My gaze locked with my own in the mirror, mirroring a figure adorned in ethereal grace. Delicate fabric flowed over me, each thread seeming to capture the moonlight and shimmer with its own celestial luminescence.
Lingerie, as they called it, was not merely undergarment; it was a second skin conjured by the fae, whispering promises of elegance and mystery.
Ana sat on the chair next to the mirror, her gaze tracing the lines of my clothes. Was she helping me in conveying its potential or was my form the true object of her scrutiny within the supposedly private confines of the dressing room? With each layer of lingerie, a flicker of hunger crossed her lips, her eyes widening like a predator sizing up its prey. Her eyes were those of the bandits, sharpening their gazes at a cart of ripe tomatoes—their greed palpable. Even for a Lithplia and Polo's sister, the intensity of her stare sent a shiver down my spine.
"Well, looks like all of it suits you," said Ana.
"I have never felt undergarments like these more comfortable than the usual ones," I smiled, moving my body across different angles.
"It's called being innovative, gal. People nowadays tend to dress simple and comfortable rather than the opposite. Unlike yours that took around multiple layers to get dressed… even for casual days, too."
"But they were in a way to grace ourselves with purity and solemnity. 'Dress for a day speaks to the worth of our day.', as the saying goes."
"You guys surely liked messing around with your senses, eh?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Whatever the fuck y'all were thinking back in that day."
".... Right."
Ana whistled aloud, and there came a woman dressed in a tailored blazer and knee-length skirt.
"We'll take all ten of these, including the one she's wearing right now," said Ana.
"Oh… that'll be… eight-hundred fifty sols," replied the woman in a tailored blazer.
"I'll take it."
Hearing that, I gasped, "Wait, eight-hundred? Is that really too much?"
"Too much? I thought a royal would've just shrugged it away."
"Such worthy undergarments could cost around three silver coins in my time, but eight-hundred…? Just what makes the world so hungry these days?"
"Relax," laughed Ana whilst pulling out a vivid talisman-like paper from her pocket. "I'm using cash here. Paper money, if you can call it."
"How can a mere paper be more worthy than gold and silver?"
"Come on, these things aren't just papers. They're officially coded, meaning that each of these are legally registered within a system."
"Coded?"
Ana rolled her eyes and heaved an exasperated sigh, "How should I explain this in your own terms?.... Y' know, it's kind of like… a seal that tells which one is real or fake."
"Right…,"
"And I won't explain you far down the rabbit hole about this since I'm not into economy kind of stuff, but just know that this is our currency here."
"So, again, you're going to afford them like some… high-ranking nobles?"
"Who knows? Sounds like living in the past is a good idea to me."
* * *
Ana had bought me twenty-five dresses, deemed suitable for 'all kinds of occasions'. Laden with five bulging paper bags, each bursting with dresses or lacy secrets, our arms groaned. Mine slicked with nervous sweat. We ambled across the bustling halls of the Blithis mall, drawing curious glances like moths to a flame.
"This really feels like… walking a caravan without some bloody carriages," I gasped. "Is there an easy way out other than this?"
"What're you talking about, gal?" replied Ana. "Renting some so-called 'carriages' sounds more taxing than this. Besides, we're only carrying a total of thirty-five clothes for you, not some thousands of apples for thousands of people."
"But their gazes—"
"Nah… no need to worry, they're just shocked how shopaholic we seem."
"Says the one who is afraid of… so-called 'male gazes'."
"Hey, there's a difference between the gazes here and the gazes before that restroom incident, eh?"
"But do they still cast the very same doubt?"
"I mean… Well, there's a fine line between someone who appreciates our status versus someone who just… I don't know… imagine wild things."
"No need to stifle your foul words, redhead. I'm a woman, not a girl."
"Appreciates our status versus loves to have their dick sucked…. There, you happy?"
I silenced, slightly grimacing.
"... Guess not," continued Ana, rolling her eyes. "Though it's inevitable for them to think like that, lessening the charm will do the work."
I giggled, "But you have a charm of some pretty wench flaunting around the hall awhile ago."
Pardon me for saying that, Lady Drea, for this offspring of yours had tainted herself with such concupiscence.
"Appreciate the compliment."
"If you would rather say so…"
Soon after, we stumbled upon a wonder of the future.
Steel well doors, once hidden within the bustling hall, swung open with a metallic sigh. A wayfarer, disc aglow, revealed a marvel within. Picture a giant lantern, crafted from moonlight, strong enough to hold two hundred apples—that was its size. As other wayfarers touched their discs, the contraption did not grow. Instead, smaller versions, like enchanted fireflies woven from the same shimmering design, darted out. No bigger than melons, they flitted around, each humming a soft blue song.
More wayfarers joined, and the smaller lanterns multiplied, forming a shimmering cloud around the central one. Each carried a capsule within its frame, like a knight bearing a squire's burden. Wayfarers gently placed their packages into these capsules, entrusting them to the magical guardians. With a final, fading hum, the entire system—the large, lantern-like carrier and its smaller, glowing companions—lifted gracefully from the gate, a celestial ballet carrying its precious cargo forward.
"Well," Ana smiled, approaching the well, then pressed the disc. "Here goes our lifesaver."
Steel doors sighed again, and with a gentle hum, a lantern woven from moonlight descended. Its frame shimmered as a glass panel slid open, revealing a compartment just our size. We unloaded our clammy burdens, entrusting them to the celestial guardian before it ascended, carrying its cargo onward.
"What are those? And where do they send it to?"
"It's called Posting Capsule, gal," she patted a creature. "They usually send to their residence… or rather, the Secure Packbox that acts like a pouch for houses and rooms except it can be opened once this bad boy comes."
"Secure Packbox? Do we have it?"
"Available as every residence in this very city. At our place, it's usually beside the windows, so there's that. Convenient, innit?"
"So a caravan? Except these oddly-looking creatures are going to do work for you?"
"Something like that," she pressed a finger on the blue glass below the edge of the screen, turning green and flew away from the well. "And there he goes."
"Wew, worth a sigh of relief."
"So what are we gonna—"
A sound of a rousing tune suddenly rang from her pockets. Her hand pulled out a glowing slate. With a flick of a touch, the tune stopped, and she placed it on her ear and said, "Hey, Aya!... Yeah… Oh, finally!.... Yeah…. Oh sweet, where's it?.... Gotcha."
She then put it back into her pocket and said to me, "Well, looks like her job's done. We'll meet with Aya at Donerreich for a lunch date."
"Donerreich? What is that? And where is it?"
She rolled her eyes, "Just follow me."