A Gift of Silver and Red
Just because the southern district of Requitas was known as a pleasure district didn't mean every single shop was entangled in crime, prostitution, or drugs. For shadows to exist, there must first be light. In the middle of the day, Requitas boasted a surprisingly decent commercial street—a place kept safe by the Sewer Rats, who diligently collected their "protection fees."
Sirien and I headed out to the commercial street alone. Our goal was to buy a few changes of clothes. Currently, Isha was wearing borrowed clothes from Sirien, which left Sirien short on options. Sirien already had to carry her holy vestments everywhere, meaning her spare everyday wear was always lacking. After lending some to Isha, she didn't even have anything to wear tomorrow.
We had agreed to cooperate with Isha until we found her father. We were intrigued by the information the Sewer Rats were so eager to get their hands on, and Isha's life was in immediate danger. With the Sewer Rats' eyes plastering the streets outside, we had to be the ones to fetch the necessary supplies. Fortunately, Isha's build was only slightly smaller than Sirien's. Even if we bought clothes tailored to Sirien, Isha would be able to wear them well enough.
"Wow. There are so many clothing shops here."
"Why do you sound like you've never seen a shopping district before?"
"Because I haven't. When would I have ever visited a place like this?"
"You had plenty of clothes back at the castle."
"Back then, why would I ever need to come to a place like this? If I needed clothes, the tailors came to me to make them."
"Ah..." I was left speechless. If this were modern times, would this be the difference in mindset between a commoner and a wealthy heir?
Naturally, Sirien had possessed an abundance of clothes back at Reheim Castle. I had never once wondered where they all came from. During the day, I was busy squeezing in training with the knights, and by the time Sirien came to find me, all I did was listen to her boast about her brand-new outfits. So, I had always assumed clothes were simply things you went to a shop to buy. It seemed that for the daughter of a Grand Duke, wearing off-the-rack clothes sold in the streets was completely out of the question.
Scanning the clothing shops lining the street one by one, Sirien pointed toward a particular storefront. It bore the sign, Fairy's Thread.
"Let's start by going in there."
Her hand suddenly grabbed my arm, pulling me along. As Sirien stepped ahead, a soft smile played on her lips. I followed her into the shop without protest.
Inside, Fairy's Thread was far more spacious than its exterior suggested. The shop boasted a wide variety of garments, ranging from extravagant dresses mimicking high-society fashion to quite elegant everyday wear. From the back of the shop, a sharp-looking woman spotted us, her face instantly lighting up with a welcoming smile.
"My, what a lovely young lady we have here. Welcome. Which of you two are we dressing today?"
"I'm looking to buy a few everyday outfits for myself. I didn't bring many clothes with me."
"Undergarments as well, then?"
"...Yes. To start with."
Sirien followed the shopkeeper to begin browsing the racks. Meanwhile, I sat down on a chair provided by an assistant and waited. Watching Sirien pick out clothes felt strangely novel. Imperial law defined adulthood starting at sixteen. But back in Korea, where I used to live, it was twenty—or nineteen, if calculating by international age like they did here. In my eyes, Sirien was still a young girl who hadn't fully shed her childish innocence.
She was at an age where she would naturally want to dress up and look pretty. Furthermore, Sirien had grown up in a place where she could have as many expensive jewels and lavish dresses as she desired. Yet, everything she once held in her hands had been stripped away. On top of that, she had spent the last few years suffering alongside me, wandering from one battlefield to another. Thanks to those struggles, the Order of Hibras now had a small following, and we even had people we could call comrades—fellows we shared meals with in the mercenary group. Yet, Sirien's hands remained completely bare, devoid of even a single decent accessory.
While I was lost in thought, Sirien seemed to have made her first choice. The silver-haired, red-eyed girl stepped out in front of me in her new attire.
"How about this one? Does it suit me?"
It was a pure white dress. On her head sat a wide-brimmed hat, and the fluttering hem of the fabric was adorned with delicate lace, giving her an ethereal, airy appearance. Sirien's skin was exceptionally clear and fair, blending flawlessly with her long silver hair. Since a beautiful face is the ultimate accessory, she could effortlessly pull off just about anything.
"It looks great. White has always suited you best."
"Really? Then I'm definitely buying this one."
It seemed my compliment had hit the mark. Sirien grinned and turned back toward the changing area. Even from behind, I could tell she was in high spirits. Despite her attempts to act aloof, our lady was surprisingly easy to read.
As Sirien wandered off to browse more clothes, one of the shop assistants happened to be standing nearby.
"Excuse me, do you carry accessories here as well?"
"Is it for a gift?"
"Yes. The recipient is over there." I gestured toward Sirien with a slight tilt of my chin. The assistant offered a warm, knowing smile. For some reason, women always seemed to take gift-shopping incredibly seriously, even when the gift wasn't for them.
"I think a bracelet would be nice."
"We actually had some new arrivals just a few days ago. Would you like to take a look?"
"Yes, please."
"Please wait just a moment."
Before long, the assistant wheeled over a small cart. She opened a few luxurious-looking boxes and whispered to me.
"You can take your time choosing. Our manager will make sure she doesn't look this way. She's probably busy brushing her hair right now."
"Perfect. Could you recommend something that would suit her?"
"Of course. How about something like this?"
The bracelet she pointed out was made of delicate silver threads woven like a chain, studded with small rubies. Silver and red—the very colors that defined Sirien. Choosing colors based on hair and eye color might have been a bit cliché, but classic combinations often held the greatest power when it came to beauty.
"Since she has such a delicate frame, a thin band like this would look much better than something thick. Let me show you a few other options as well."
The assistant showed me several other bracelets, but none of them caught my eye like the first. There were pieces densely packed with flashy gems and others with intricately twisted gold threads, but they didn't feel right. I knew Sirien wouldn't care for something so gaudy. Rather than distracting the eye with a chaotic display of jewels, it was far better to let her natural beauty shine. After all, the most precious luxuries always boasted a quiet, refined elegance. In the end, I decided to purchase the first bracelet I had looked at. It cost a hefty sum, but I didn't regret it for a second. It was money I had been given for personal use anyway, and our circumstances weren't so dire that we had to pinch pennies.
"It looks like she'll be out soon. Shall I put the cart away?"
"Thank you."
"My pleasure. I wish you two a beautiful love."
"Excuse me?"
We aren't in that kind of relationship yet. No, there isn't even a "yet" to speak of.
But before I could voice my denial, the assistant had already wheeled the cart away with a knowing grin.
As I waited a little longer, Sirien emerged wearing an outfit far more daring than the last. This time, she wore a black evening gown that exposed her shoulders and dipped low beneath her collarbones. Her finely brushed hair cascaded smoothly down, and a single braid on one side added a devastatingly beautiful touch. The soft light pooled in the hollows of her sculpted collarbones. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, and the shifting contours of her body with every slight movement were utterly mesmerizing. Sirien could look incredibly alluring just by exposing her arms, shoulders, and neck. Because I saw her face every day, I usually didn't think much of it, but seeing her dressed up like this made my breath catch in my throat.
Sirien's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she looked down.
"H-how is it? Is it too revealing? It feels a bit empty with my shoulders completely bare... If you don't think it looks good, I can go change into something else right now."
"No. No, it's not. It's fine. You look beautiful. It really suits you. Yeah, it really does."
Sirien had suddenly become incredibly talkative, while I could barely stammer out a coherent sentence. Heat rushed to my head, rendering me unable to think straight. I couldn't maintain my composure. Fearing I was staring too intensely, I tried to look away, but my eyes kept drifting back to her, eager for another glimpse. Fortunately, our eyes never actually met. If she had caught me looking at her like this, she might have teased me about it for the rest of my life.
"R-really? Then should I buy this one too? Actually, I saw a few other dresses earlier, but I wanted to show you this one in particular. I even styled my hair a bit differently, since I usually just leave it down."
"Uh... yeah, let's do that. Since we're already here, you should buy whatever you like. Do you want me to take that bag? I'll carry it for you."
"Okay. Thanks."
Sirien's expression softened. Her cheeks, red as ripe apples, twitched as she fought back a smile. I saw it, but I didn't dare point it out. It was a relief that she was too flustered by the compliment to look at me properly. Unlike our usual banter, I couldn't even bring myself to look her in the eye. I had to turn away under the pretext of paying for the clothes.
It was the assistant's playful remark that finally put an end to our little comedy.
"You two must have just started dating. You're so adorable together."
"T-t-t-that's not it at all!"
"Oh, my apologies. Not yet, then? You two just look so perfect together that I couldn't help myself."
"Hic—"
Sirien let out a sudden hiccup.