The capital city of the Kingdom of Siacan, with its grand main avenue, was a hive of activity, pulsating with life and energy on this particular day. The cobblestone street, polished smooth by years of traffic, echoed with the clatter of hooves and the creak of wheels as a procession of noble carriages rolled past, their polished exteriors gleaming under the midday sun. Each carriage bore the crest of a prominent family, their destinations all converging on a single shop located at the midpoint of the avenue. This was no ordinary shop—it belonged to Dahlia, and today was the much-anticipated day of her grand sale.
"Clatter, clatter, clatter…" The wheels of the carriages ground against the stone pavement, producing a grating sound that was quickly drowned out by the rhythmic thud of horses' hooves. A quick glance down the avenue revealed a staggering sight—over a hundred carriages lined the street, their occupants a mix of nobles and wealthy merchants, all drawn to Dahlia's shop like moths to a flame. The air was thick with the scent of polished leather, horse sweat, and the faint perfume wafting from the open windows of the carriages, mingling with the excited chatter of the crowd.
Dahlia's shop had become a sensation even before its doors opened for the day, a testament to the buzz she had skillfully generated in the weeks leading up to this event. Much of the excitement stemmed from her dramatic departure from the capital during the winter months, accompanied by none other than Catherine, the daughter of a duke. But Dahlia's true genius lay in her ability to stoke anticipation. Over the past three days, she had strategically leaked tantalizing hints about the treasures her shop would offer—exquisite wines, gourmet delicacies, and, most recently, the mysterious allure of perfumes. These whispers had spread like wildfire through the noble salons and merchant guilds, ensuring that today's sale would be nothing short of a spectacle.
Of course, the grand nobles themselves would never deign to attend such an event in person—such public appearances were beneath their dignity. Instead, they sent their sons, daughters, and trusted stewards, eager to secure the finest goods for their households. While many of these younger nobles were undoubtedly drawn by the promise of luxury items, it was no secret that Dahlia's own charm played a significant role in their attendance. Her beauty, wit, and enigmatic aura had made her a figure of fascination in the capital, and the chance to catch a glimpse of her was as much a draw as the goods she offered.
Outside Dahlia's shop, a sizable crowd had already gathered, their numbers swelling with each passing minute. The inner circle consisted of nobles and merchants, their fine silks and velvets marking them as the elite of society. Beyond them, a ring of curious commoners formed, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the proceedings, their murmurs of excitement adding to the cacophony. The shop's grand double doors, carved with intricate floral patterns, remained firmly closed, heightening the anticipation and fueling the impatience of those waiting outside.
"How much longer must we wait? Isn't it time to open the doors?" A young nobleman called out, his voice tinged with irritation as he adjusted the lace cuffs of his doublet.
"Miss Dahlia, surely you don't intend to keep us standing here all day?" Another voice chimed in, this one belonging to a portly merchant, his face flushed from the heat of the midday sun.
"Our time is valuable, you know! If you have something worth seeing, bring it out already!" A third voice added, sharp and demanding, cutting through the din of the crowd.
Dahlia stood just inside the shop, peering out through a small window beside the door, her brow furrowed as she surveyed the restless crowd. Among the sea of faces, two stood out—Kevin and Scott, two minor nobles whose reputations had taken a severe beating in recent days. Dahlia's lips tightened into a thin line as she spotted them, their loud voices carrying above the others as they shouted their complaints. She couldn't believe they had the audacity to show their faces here, especially after the events of the past week. Upon her return to the capital, Dahlia had wasted no time spreading rumors about their misdeeds, ensuring that their names were met with scorn and ridicule among the nobility. Just yesterday, when they had arrived back in the capital, they had been greeted not with respect but with derision, their social standing crumbling under the weight of public disdain.
"Silence!" A sharp, commanding voice rang out from the edge of the crowd, cutting through the noise like a blade.
"Clop, clop, clop…" The sound of hooves grew louder as a squad of armored knights parted the crowd, their polished steel glinting in the sunlight. At their center rode Catherine, her expression icy and unyielding, her eyes sweeping over the assembled nobles and merchants with a chilling intensity. Her gaze lingered on Kevin and Scott, who shrank back under her scrutiny, their bravado evaporating in an instant. As the daughter of a duke, Catherine's rank far outstripped theirs, and they knew better than to challenge her directly. Their bluster was reserved for Dahlia, whom they saw as a softer target, but in Catherine's presence, they were reduced to cowering silence.
"Hmph!" Catherine let out a disdainful snort, her blue hair cascading over her shoulders as she dismounted her horse with a graceful flourish. She strode toward Dahlia, her presence commanding the attention of everyone around her. Today, she was here to support her dear friend, to ensure that no one dared to disrupt the sale or take advantage of Dahlia's good nature. With Catherine at her side, the more unruly elements in the crowd would think twice before causing trouble.
"Catherine, you're finally here," Dahlia said, her voice tinged with relief as she opened the door to let her friend inside. She had delayed opening the shop precisely because she was waiting for Catherine's arrival. This sale was too important to risk any mishaps, and Catherine's presence was the perfect insurance against chaos.
"Open the doors," Catherine said, tossing her blue hair with a flick of her head, her voice rising just enough to carry over the crowd. "I'd like to see who dares to make a scene today."
Dahlia nodded, momentarily taken aback by the change in her friend's demeanor. Today, Catherine was not the playful, mischievous companion Dahlia was accustomed to. Instead, she exuded an air of authority, every inch the daughter of a duke, her confidence radiating like a beacon. It was a side of Catherine that Dahlia rarely saw, but one that filled her with gratitude and admiration.
"Creak!" The heavy double doors swung open with a groan, revealing the interior of the shop in all its splendor. Dahlia led the way inside, with Catherine at her side, their steps echoing on the polished wooden floor. Behind them, the nobles and merchants filed in, their voices hushed now, subdued by Catherine's commanding presence. As the daughter of a duke, Catherine carried an aura of untouchable authority, her very presence a reminder of the power and prestige of her family. To many in the room, she represented the duke himself, a figure of such influence that even the most arrogant nobles dared not cross her.
The shop's interior was designed for both function and elegance. A U-shaped counter dominated the space, its surface gleaming with a rich mahogany finish. Behind the counter, a row of tall cabinets lined the walls, their doors revealing shelves stocked with an array of goods. A team of shop assistants, dressed in crisp uniforms, stood ready behind the cabinets, their expressions attentive and professional. In the center of the hall, a large table had been set up, its surface bare for now, serving as the focal point for Dahlia's presentation. Dahlia and Catherine took their places in front of the table, facing the crowd of nobles and merchants who had gathered in a semicircle around them, their eyes alight with curiosity and expectation.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Dahlia began, her voice clear and confident as she curtsied gracefully, her skirt rustling softly. "I am deeply honored that you have taken the time to visit my humble shop today. I assure you, you will not be disappointed by what we have to offer." With a wave of her hand, she signaled to the assistants, who sprang into action, hurrying forward with trays in hand.
The assistants approached the table, their movements precise and practiced, and carefully set down their trays. Each tray held a stack of linen fabric, neatly folded and arranged in a variety of vibrant colors—rich reds, deep blues, and soft greens. The sight of the fabric elicited a murmur of confusion from the crowd, their initial excitement giving way to skepticism.
"Is this it? Just linen?" A nobleman called out, his tone dripping with disdain. "You promised us wonders, and all you show us is common cloth?"
"Exactly!" Another voice chimed in, this one belonging to a merchant with a booming voice. "We have plenty of linen already. If you have perfumes, bring them out! Don't waste our time with this rubbish."
The crowd's grumbling grew louder, a chorus of complaints and jeers that threatened to drown out Dahlia's voice. Beside her, Catherine's expression darkened, her hand twitching as if she were about to unleash a scathing rebuke. But Dahlia, ever the diplomat, reached out and gently squeezed Catherine's hand, shaking her head to signal restraint. She turned to face the crowd, her gaze steady and unflinching, and raised her voice to be heard above the din.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I understand that linen may seem commonplace to you," Dahlia said, her tone calm but firm. "But I ask you—how many of you possess linen that is several times softer and lighter than anything you've ever felt before? A fabric so exquisite that it rivals even the finest silks?"
With a flourish, Dahlia reached for a stack of red linen on the table, lifting it high for all to see. Then, with a swift motion, she shook it out, letting it unfurl across the table in a cascade of vibrant color. The fabric seemed to float as it settled, its texture so light and airy that it barely made a sound. This was no ordinary linen—it was the finest product Lord Lucas's workshops could produce, a marvel of craftsmanship that had taken months to perfect.
The nobles and merchants surged forward, their skepticism forgotten as they reached out to touch the fabric. Their fingers brushed against the surface, and gasps of astonishment filled the air. The linen was impossibly soft, its texture smooth and luxurious, devoid of the roughness that characterized even the best linens they owned. Compared to the coarse fabrics they wore, this was a revelation, a material fit for royalty.
"How much is this linen? I'll take it all!" A middle-aged nobleman shouted, his voice brimming with excitement as he waved a hand to stake his claim.
"No chance!" A portly young man retorted, his face flushed with determination. "My father, the count, must have some of this. I won't leave without it!"
"I'm here on behalf of Marquis Eldridge," Another voice called out, this one belonging to a stern-looking steward. "I've been instructed to purchase the finest linens available, and these are clearly unmatched."
The room erupted into chaos as the nobles and their representatives began to argue, each one invoking the name of their patron in an attempt to outbid the others. The air was thick with the sound of raised voices, the clinking of coin purses, and the rustle of fine clothing as the crowd jostled for position. Dahlia watched the scene unfold, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. This was exactly the reaction she had hoped for—the perfect opening to her sale, one that had firmly captured the attention of her audience.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please!" Dahlia called out, raising her hands to quell the uproar. "There's no need to argue. We have ample stock of this exquisite linen, enough to ensure that everyone here can purchase what they desire. I promise, no one will leave empty-handed."
Her words had the desired effect, and the crowd gradually quieted, though their eyes remained fixed on her, eager for what would come next. The nobles, realizing that further squabbling would only make them look foolish, straightened their postures and adjusted their expressions, striving to regain an air of dignity. Dahlia nodded, pleased with the shift in atmosphere, and signaled to the assistants once more. The now-crumpled linens were swiftly cleared from the table, replaced by a new set of trays, each one holding stacks of pale yellow sheets that shimmered faintly in the light.
The crowd leaned forward, their curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar material. Unlike the linens, which they had recognized immediately, these sheets were a mystery, their purpose unclear. Whispers of confusion rippled through the room as the nobles and merchants exchanged puzzled glances, trying to discern what they were looking at.
"Achoo!" A loud sneeze suddenly erupted from the side of the room, drawing all eyes to a nobleman who had been standing quietly near the edge of the crowd. The force of the sneeze had left him with a trail of snot dripping from his nose, and he hastily wiped it away with the sleeve of his expensive doublet, much to the disgust of those around him. Several nobles nearby grimaced, their eyes twitching in distaste at the uncouth display.
But for Dahlia, the moment was a stroke of inspiration. Her mind raced, abandoning the carefully rehearsed speech she had prepared in favor of a more spontaneous approach. Seizing the opportunity, she reached for one of the pale yellow sheets on the tray, holding it up for all to see. "My dear guest," She said, her voice warm and inviting as she addressed the sneezing nobleman, "Allow me to introduce you to something far more elegant than a sleeve. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a tissue—a perfect solution for wiping away sneezes, spills, or any other minor mishaps."
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