Fierce Exchanges
In this isekai world, students attending the academy were usually nobles, and the academy grounds were lined with shops catering to those nobles. Clothing stores were no exception. In a world without factories or machines, all clothes were handmade crafts, and handmade naturally meant expensive. Poor commoners thus patched together fabrics among themselves and wore the same outfits for life, while wealthy nobles considered it a virtue to cycle through designer dresses every season, squandering their riches.
"This is one of the better stores around."
"'One of the better'…?"
Dragged into the clothing store by Stella's hand, I scanned the surroundings while mulling over her words. One of the better ones, huh.
This?
Suits that dazzled the eyes just to look at, Renaissance-style garments straight out of a medieval noble's wardrobe, men's sailor uniforms, and outfits so bizarre I couldn't even imagine how to wear them—they were everywhere. In my old reality, I wouldn't have spared this place a glance. To me, clothes were just something you grabbed from any store for a few bucks. Not stuff you got professionally fitted for here.
"Welcome, honored guests."
As I poked around the store, the manager rushed over, rubbing his hands eagerly. Stella waved him off dismissively.
"We'll browse on our own. Get back to work."
"Yes, ma'am. Call if you need assistance."
She shooed the manager far away like that, then told me to pick out some clothes. I rummaged through the racks, searching for anything that might suit me. But with my lacking fashion sense, I couldn't even tell if an outfit looked good on me just by eyeing it.
Stella glared at me fumbling with the clothes, then snatched what I was holding and hung it back up.
"You're not a kid—can't even pick properly? Honestly…"
She grumbled like that but started selecting outfits for me with a subtly pleased tone. Piles of incomprehensible garments stacked up, and eventually, I had no choice but to try them on with my arms full.
"Okay, this set with that draped over—then come out."
"…Yeah."
Guided by the manager to the fitting room, I changed as instructed and checked myself in the mirror.
Damn, looking sharp.
They say people always think they look better in the mirror, but objectively speaking, my face was handsome regardless. It had to be—this body wasn't mine; it was the game character, Ian Clark.
…Suddenly feeling down.
With melancholy plastered on my face, I stepped out of the fitting room. Stella, waiting, looked me up and down. After staring at my face for a moment, she nodded approvingly and called to the manager.
"Size this one down for now."
"Right away."
"Ian, change out of that and try this next."
"No, one outfit's enough…"
"Enough? Says the guy who only had his uniform."
"…"
She wasn't wrong, so I headed back in and emerged in the next set. The manager took each discarded outfit, adjusted the sizes with a magic tool to fit me perfectly, and blabbered on that returns or exchanges weren't possible once fitted.
"I'll pay for these."
"No, these are mine. I'll handle it."
"What money do you have?"
"I've got plenty now. Got a card from your dad."
"…Why'd he give you that?"
"Uh."
Hearing I'd received a card from Duke Iritz, Stella shot me a glare like why the hell did you take it? I quietly shut my mouth and pocketed the card. Explaining how I got it would drag out all sorts of stories—like refusing marriage to Stella in exchange.
"We're gonna be late."
"Why'd you take it!?"
"Let's go."
"Hey!"
I ignored her protests and headed to the dorms with my new clothes. All the while, Stella trailed behind, nagging nonstop.
* * *
"Whoa… Ian, new clothes?"
"Sharp eye."
"Duh, he always wore just the uniform."
Sheera spotted my outfit right away and knew it was new. For someone as oblivious to others' feelings as her to say that, my usual sloppiness must've been obvious.
Guess I was pretty bad.
Deep in self-reflection, I glanced at the restaurant behind her. It was a famous spot with months-long reservations, and I wondered how she'd snagged one. Noah seemed equally puzzled, her mouth agape as she bombarded Sheera with questions.
"Whoa—isn't this place super expensive?"
"Not that bad. Just popular."
"Really? I heard scalped tickets go for millions of credits."
"Scalped ones, yeah."
She led us inside. True to its reputation—strict reservations yet perpetually booked—the staff's crisp efficiency impressed me. Table settings ready before we sat, appetizers arriving the moment we did. You could tell this wasn't built overnight.
I scooped up some soup with my spoon and savored it. As expected from a top restaurant, the flavor was impeccable. A bit bland maybe, but that was just the appetizer.
"You two went to the Iritz Duchy, right?"
Sheera asked between sips, her eyes fixed on Stella—like probing if the duke's daughter visiting home hid some scandal.
Stella snorted and glared back.
"And you went to the Acacia Marquisate, didn't you?"
"Mm-hmm. Oh, this soup's delicious, right?"
"Delish~!"
"Yeah? But no refills here. Want mine if you're still hungry?"
"R-Really!?"
Sheera deflected Stella's counter with a Friend Shield via Noah. Oblivious Noah dove into the subtle, profound soup flavor she'd never tasted before, scraping Sheera's bowl clean.
While she devoured it happily, the table hosted a Sheera-Stella nerve war.
"Lady Selene rushed back to the territory… Something up?"
"Who knows? Mom's always unpredictable. How about your place?"
"Eh, normal. Not monster-prone farmland anyway—just handled natural spawns. Yours?"
"Similar."
"Iritz is the front lines, no? Yet chilling with sea beast hunts in farmland?"
"Yep."
"Wasting a 3-star summon like that? Duke's gone soft, huh."
"We're students. Marquisate must be short-staffed, assigning kids to that?"
Grazing vital spots. Their political intel skirmish targeted weaknesses.
I knew nothing of noble power plays and didn't care, so I peacefully enjoyed the course with Noah.
Nobles are such a hassle.
Unable to relax, always scheming—it sounded exhausting. Demand that of me, and I'd collapse from stress in a month. Only nobles, trained from childhood, could handle it.
No wonder rags-to-riches noble tales are rare.
A commoner suddenly ennobled couldn't outmatch lifelong experts. Only rare geniuses could—and I wasn't one.
"Ian."
"Hm?"
"Nothing happen on your end?"
Done tapping Stella's ironclad guard, Sheera turned to me, deeming no gains there.
Bad move. I knew zilch anyway.
"Nope."
"For real~?"
"Yeah."
"Then what's with the clothes?"
"Huh?"
"You couldn't even afford allowance, scraping by on cafeteria food. Where'd the cash come from?"
I'd underestimated nobles. They squeezed oil from dry land. Politicians of this world.
I fiddled with my outfit, pondering my answer. Say Stella bought them? She'd spin rumors about us. Say the duke? Bigger mess—implying approval as son-in-law material.
As I agonized, Stella spoke first.
"I bought them."
"Heh, you did, Stella~?"
"What's wrong with that?"
"Why?"
Snake tongue. Sheera was a viper, her words striking throats, injecting venom.
"Just did."
"Juuust… did?"
"Yeah, just."
But her foe was a tougher noble: duke's daughter, versed in emperor's arts from battling foes.
Stella Iritz.
"Couldn't stand him in just a uniform. Bought one. So?"
"Buying clothes together? That's your relationship?"
"Yeah. Guess yours with Ian is just sharing scraps."
"Hahaha… Rumors of Iritz lady dating a baron's kid would be awkward."
"Me? Awkward?"
Stella leaned back, arms crossed, exuding confidence. She smirked down at Sheera.
"Think this'd shake House Iritz?"
"—Not denying it, huh?"
"No need to answer every rumor."
Listening made my head spin. As I sighed softly, a poke nudged me from the side.
"…?"
"Ian—eat this!"
"…Noah?"
Sauce smeared on her lips, Noah beamed brightly and offered me meat. I speared and ate it, gazing at her.
Healing as always.
Looking at Noah relaxed body and soul, like visiting the countryside.
"Good?"
"Mm!"
"Hehe, want another?"
"…Nah, I'm good."
Couldn't in good conscience take more from this pure girl, so I sliced my meat and served her. She startled, stared, then happily ate without refusing.
Watching, Stella and Sheera muttered softly.
"That fox…"
"Vixen…"
Neither fit Noah at all, leaving me to tilt my head in confusion.