Shopping for a wedding gift was supposed to be a simple task. But when you're Leora, Queen of Organized Chaos, and you bring along your horned, mischief-loving spouse Zephara, nothing goes as planned.
I strolled through the bustling streets of the market, a mix of refined boutiques and quaint stalls brimming with trinkets and treasures.
Beside me, Zephara walked with her usual air of smugness, her red eyes scanning the wares like a predator stalking prey.
"I still don't see why we can't just give them money," she grumbled, crossing her arms.
I shot her a glare. "Because, Zephara, this is my granddaughter's wedding, not some random demon's coronation. Money is so impersonal. They deserve something thoughtful."
Zephara smirked. "Thoughtful? Like the time you gifted me that cursed dagger?"
"It was practical," I retorted, rolling my eyes. "And it worked perfectly against those pesky shadow wraiths, didn't it?"
She raised a brow but didn't argue, probably because she knew I was right.
The first shop we entered was an elegant jeweler's, the kind with glimmering trinkets that would make even a dragon drool. I browsed the cases, eyeing a delicate green necklace that matched Aeliana's eyes.
"Do you think she'd like this?" I asked.
Zephara leaned in close, inspecting it with a mockingly critical gaze. "It's nice. But wouldn't it clash with Ciara's hair? Maybe they'd fight over who gets to wear it, and we'd get a show at the reception."
I sighed, ignoring her antics. The jeweler, an elderly demon with an impressive set of horns, looked nervous as Zephara's tail swished dangerously close to the display cases.
"Zephara, if you break anything, you're paying for it," I warned.
She grinned, tapping a clawed finger against the glass. "Relax, darling. I'm just window shopping… with my hands."
The jeweler paled, and I decided it was time to leave before we were banned.
Our next stop was a boutique that specialized in luxurious home goods. I thought a finely crafted dining set might be a suitable gift. Ciara loved cooking, and Aeliana would appreciate the practicality.
Zephara, however, had other ideas.
She picked up a silver teapot shaped like a dragon, steam hissing dramatically from its nostrils. "What about this? It screams 'we're fancy but also terrifying,' just like them."
"Put that down," I said, exasperated. "They don't need a novelty teapot."
Zephara pouted but complied, her tail knocking over a stack of intricately woven tablecloths in the process.
"Oops," she said, clearly not sorry.
The shopkeeper scurried over, his face a mix of horror and outrage. "Madam Zephara, please!"
I grabbed her arm and dragged her out before we caused more chaos.
We wandered through the market, stopping occasionally to inspect something that caught my eye a set of enchanted cooking knives, a magical music box that played hauntingly beautiful melodies, a painting that shifted scenes depending on the viewer's mood.
But nothing felt quite right.
"Everything is either too plain or too gaudy," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.
Zephara, meanwhile, had discovered a stall selling cursed objects. She held up a sinister-looking mirror, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
"This one shows your worst fears," she said, smirking. "Think Ciara would like it? Might keep her humble."
I snatched it from her and placed it back on the table. "We're not traumatizing my granddaughter on her wedding day, Zephara."
"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "But you're no fun."
We moved on to a shop filled with magical plants. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, their petals shimmering with enchantments.
"What about a flowering tree that never wilts?" I suggested. "It could symbolize their everlasting love."
Zephara snorted. "That's cute, Leora, but do you really think Ciara would water it? She'd probably use it as a prop for one of her fights."
I sighed, knowing she wasn't entirely wrong. Still, I plucked a small potted plant with glowing blue flowers and added it to our growing list of "maybes."
As we continued, Zephara's antics only escalated. She tried on a ridiculous feathered hat at a clothing stall, made a vendor demonstrate how a self-cleaning broom worked by intentionally spilling dirt, and even attempted to haggle with a goblin merchant over a cursed music box.
"Zephara, focus!" I snapped after she nearly bought a miniature fire-breathing dragon.
"I am focused," she replied, grinning. "Focused on not dying of boredom."
I groaned. "Why did I bring you along again?"
"Because you love me," she said smugly, draping an arm around my shoulders.
Despite myself, I couldn't help but smile. She wasn't wrong.
After what felt like hours, we stopped at a café to regroup. I sipped my tea, pondering our options. Nothing we'd seen so far felt perfect enough for Ciara and Aeliana.
"Maybe we're overthinking this," Zephara said, munching on a pastry. "They're probably not expecting anything extravagant."
"That's exactly why it has to be perfect," I replied. "I want them to know how much they mean to me."
Zephara leaned back in her chair, studying me with an amused expression. "You're such a softie when it comes to family, you know that?"
"Only because you've made me soft," I shot back, smirking.
"Fair point," she said, raising her cup in a mock toast.
We continued our search after the break, but my frustration grew with every shop we visited. Nothing seemed worthy of my granddaughter and her bride.
"Everything is boring," I declared dramatically, throwing my hands up.
Zephara chuckled, clearly enjoying my struggle. "Don't worry, darling. We'll find something. Or we'll just cook them a feast and call it a day."
I groaned, wondering if perfection was even possible—or if I was simply doomed to shop forever with my chaotic wife by my side.
I was about ready to give up. After hours of searching through stalls and boutiques, I felt like I'd seen every trinket, bauble, and enchanted object in existence—and nothing had screamed perfect.
My patience was wearing thin, and Zephara's constant quips about how we should just gift them a pile of gold weren't helping.
"Maybe we should," I muttered, scanning yet another display of gaudy, oversized jewelry. "At least gold's useful."
Zephara smirked, leaning lazily against a pillar as though she were the queen here, not me. "I told you that hours ago, love. But nooo, it has to be meaningful. So here we are."
I rolled my eyes and turned back to the case. Another wasted effort. The vendor was explaining the significance of their enchanted brooches, but I wasn't listening. My attention was on the display, glazed with disinterest.
Then I saw them.
Nestled in a corner of the case, nearly hidden among the clutter, were a pair of rings that shimmered with an otherworldly glow. They were subtle yet stunning, the kind of craftsmanship that spoke volumes without shouting. The bands were a mix of deep gold and silver, intertwined in a way that made them seem alive, almost like they were dancing together.
The stones in each ring were unique one a violet emeraud that reminded me of Aeliana's eyes, the other a fiery garnet that burned like Ciara's fierce spirit. They pulsed faintly, as though imbued with magic that resonated with whoever wore them.
I gestured toward them, interrupting the vendor's droning monologue. "Those. Show me those."
The vendor blinked, startled, before carefully extracting the rings from the case. "Ah, an excellent choice, your majesty. These are bonded rings. They're crafted to—"
"Let me guess," Zephara interjected, grinning. "Some sentimental nonsense about eternal love and unbreakable connections?"
The vendor flushed, unsure how to respond, but I waved him off. "Ignore her. What's the enchantment?"
He cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "They're designed to resonate with the wearers' emotions. When the pair is apart, the rings emit a gentle warmth, a reminder of their connection. And when together, they glow faintly, symbolizing harmony."
I picked up one of the rings, holding it to the light. It wasn't just beautiful—it was perfect. This was what I'd been searching for.
Zephara leaned over my shoulder, studying the rings with a raised brow. "I'll admit, they're not terrible. But are you sure they're worthy of your precious granddaughter?"
I ignored her and turned to the vendor. "How much?"
He hesitated, glancing nervously at Zephara, who was now examining a nearby bracelet with what could only be described as destructive curiosity. "For you, your majesty, a very reasonable—"
"Save the flattery. Just tell me the price."
He named it, and I handed over the gold without hesitation. As I took the rings, their faint glow seemed to grow brighter, as though they knew they'd found their purpose.
"Finally," I murmured, slipping them into a small velvet box the vendor provided. "The perfect gift."
Zephara clapped her hands together, mockingly triumphant. "And it only took all day. What a success!"
I shot her a glare, but even I couldn't suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. The frustration of the day melted away as I thought about Ciara and Aeliana exchanging these rings on their wedding day.
It was exactly what they deserved something timeless, meaningful, and a little magical.
"Well," I said, slipping the box into my pocket and turning toward the exit. "Mission accomplished. Let's go home before you bankrupt us by breaking something."
Zephara grinned, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "Admit it, you had fun."
"Let's just say I survived," I replied dryly.
As we walked away, I felt a sense of satisfaction settle over me. For all the chaos, for all the teasing and bickering, I knew this gift would mean everything to them. And that, I thought, was worth every second.