It was mid-morning when Mrs. Joana decided to take Elira to the market, a bustling place alive with stalls displaying all manner of garments. Sylas' mother wished to purchase a new dress and a few essentials for the young girl, whose belongings were few and rather plain. Yet more than anything, Mrs. Joana simply longed for an outing with Elira, a chance to enjoy the day together.
Meanwhile, the two young gentlemen opted to accompany the ladies, adding both amusement and mild tension to the party.
The four were seated in a modest horse-drawn carriage, making their way toward the heart of the capital, where merchants crowded the streets, their colourful fabrics fluttering in the breeze, and every kind of wares displayed enticingly.
"Why are you in such a sour mood, my son?" Mrs. Joana asked Sylas, her voice carrying gentle reproach tinged with amusement. Sylas sat directly opposite his mother, arms crossed and brow furrowed, while Elira perched beside her, eyes wide with curiosity as she gazed at the market through the carriage window.
Seated directly across from Elira, Cassian leaned back slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes and a faint smile tugging at his lips. He seemed to enjoy the mild tension simmering between himself and Sylas, though he occasionally allowed his gaze to drift toward Elira, intrigued by her curiosity and lively expressions.
"I don't know… but Cassian, must you borrow all my belongings while staying under our roof? You arrive at our house without a single thing of your own?" Sylas' voice was sharp, his glare fixed on his friend, posture rigid with irritation.
Cassian, however, responded with a peace sign and an easy, playful smile, clearly relishing Sylas' frustration. Indeed, Sylas had every reason to be annoyed: Cassian was dressed in Sylas' own grey vest with gold buttons over a pale grey long-sleeved shirt with puffed sleeves, paired with dark trousers and a brown leather belt—the very clothes Sylas had intended for the day. Sylas himself wore a black tunic with a lace-up neckline, black trousers, and boots, with brown leather bracers on his forearms and a matching belt. Both young men thus appeared strikingly similar in dark attire, a sharp contrast to the lighter dresses of their companions.
"Do forgive him, Sylas," Mrs. Joana chuckled, clearly amused by their banter. She wore a deep blue gown with a fitted jacket, a ruffled white collar, lace cuffs, and a long skirt with a ruffled hem. Her silver hair was swept into an elegant updo beneath her hat, black eyes shimmering as the sunlight caught them.
"Yes, I must agree," Cassian added, mock seriousness in his tone. "And may I ask, dear Nanny, why Sylas favours such sombre colours? Grey, black, white, brown… one could almost mistake us for guards today!" His eyes flicked toward Sylas, amusement barely contained. Indeed, their matching black attire gave the effect, while Mrs. Joana and Elira's lighter dresses offered a contrasting charm that drew Cassian's teasing attention.
Sylas remained silent, closing his eyes, jaw tight as Cassian's taunts gnawed at his patience. The carriage was alive with laughter and playful squabbles, while Elira's attention drifted to the vibrant market outside. Her left hand rested lightly on the window, lips slightly parted, golden eyes shining as she took in the sights. Her loose curls framed her face, and she wore a white blouse with embroidered sleeves, a laced burgundy bodice, and a long pale-yellow skirt tied with a matching ribbon. A red floral headband completed her ensemble.
While Cassian continued to tease Sylas, his gaze occasionally met Elira's, a faint smile softening his features as he watched her curiosity explore the passing stalls.
Upon reaching the centre of the market, Cassian stepped from the carriage first. As Elira prepared to follow, he offered his hand to her. Startled, her eyes widened slightly, but she accepted it, and he guided her safely to the ground. Their hands parted reluctantly, and Elira felt a soft flush of awkwardness at the sudden intimacy. Cassian, too, felt his cheeks warm, quickly looking away as he tried to compose himself. The softness of her hand lingered in his thoughts, heart fluttering, even as Sylas busied himself assisting their mother.
As the four decided to take their lunch in a fancy restaurant before strolling down the capital streets, they settled at a round table for four. Beside Mrs Joana sat Elira, while the girl herself was placed between Cassian and Mr Joana. Cassian took his seat next to Sylas, and Sylas, of course, beside his mother.
"So, shall we order? Cassian, have you already chosen something?" Mrs Joana asked warmly, as the prince studied the menu with casual ease.
"I'd rather have roast capon, roasted carrots glazed with honey, and a glass of light red wine. That will do." Cassian declared, his tone princely as the waiter jotted down his order first.
"You'll pay for that," Sylas remarked coldly.
"Of course, yes! I am richer than you," Cassian teased, smirking. The statement needed no proof—after all, he was the crown prince.
Elira, watching the two bicker, let out a soft chuckle. She bent her hand with curled fingers to cover her mouth, her eyes squeezed shut in delight at their childish quarrel.
"I'll have chicken broth with herbs and egg yolk, and only sweet cider," Sylas ordered curtly, his words clipped.
Mrs. Joana followed with her calm choice: "Meat pasties, pickled onions and beets, and an herbal infusion."
With three orders already placed, the waiter finally turned to Elira. Her face was almost entirely hidden behind the menu, her fingers clutching it tightly. She felt the sting of shyness in her chest—each dish was costly, nearly three to five silver coins. 'If I were to sell my bracelets, it wouldn't even cover one plate,' she thought anxiously, her eyes darting across the page without settling.
"Elira, dear, are you having trouble choosing your food?" Mrs. Joana asked gently.
"N–no, it's just… the food is so expensive," Elira murmured, lowering the menu at last. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she gripped her skirt with both hands, her head bowed low, gaze fixed upon her lap.
Mrs Joana reached over, patting her head tenderly, a smile of comfort on her lips. "Poor girl… you've no need to be shy. Order whatever you like, I'll treat you." Mrs. Joana knew well that the girl's shyness came from the costly dishes—luxuries beyond her status as a commoner who had never been accustomed to such a fancy restaurant.
"Yes! You are part of our family now. After all, Mrs. Joana's husband is far richer than her poor son—right, Nanny?" Cassian grinned cheekily.
Boogsh!
"Ouch! That hurt, Sylas!" Cassian exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head where Sylas had smacked him. The prince closed his eyes and adjusted his sleeve with a frown, as if such a blow were entirely beneath his dignity.
"S-soft wheat rolls with honey glaze and… some orange juice," Elira said timidly, lowering her menu, her head still bowed. She clearly hated the thought of burdening Mrs Joana with too costly a bill.
Sylas noticed at once that she had chosen nothing substantial, and before the waiter could leave, he cut in firmly, "Please add grilled chicken and pasta, and some chocolate sweet tarts for four." His tone was cold, but his intent plain.
Elira's golden eyes widened, her face aflame as she looked at him in shock. Mrs Joana, however, understood. Sylas wanted to make sure the girl would eat well, and so she smiled faintly, reaching out to hold Elira's hand.
"Don't be shy, my dear. Eat your fill," she said with motherly warmth.
Elira startled at the touch, then met Mrs Joana's gaze, her eyes glimmering. "Yes… thank you."
And with that, the four waited together for their meals to arrive.
As the four of them finished their lunch, they stepped onto the bustling streets, alive with joyful crowds, market stalls, and dress shops—the very heart of the capital. Mrs. Joana wrapped her right hand around Elira's left, guiding her through the maze of vendors, pointing out what was fine and beautiful, while the two gentlemen, Sylas and Cassian, followed behind with calm, measured steps.
"Look, Elira, that's the shop where I used to buy my daughter the loveliest dresses," Mrs. Joana said with delight, tugging Elira gently towards the entrance. Cassian and Sylas remained outside, the boutique devoted entirely to dresses, leaving them to their private browsing.
"Cassian, was the Empress aware that you're here?" Sylas asked, leaning against the wall beside the shop. His arms were crossed, his gaze sweeping over the passersby, every movement careful, restrained. Cassian, meanwhile, sank into a squat, balancing on the balls of his feet, back straight yet relaxed, fingers tracing the cobblestones like a restless child waiting for his mother to finish shopping. Though he might have appeared bored, being near Elira seemed to ignite an invisible energy within him. Sylas, however, moved with deliberate composure; his only reason for accompanying his mother and Elira to the outing was duty, a quiet sense of responsibility that tempered any enjoyment. Yet he remained alert—should anything happen to Cassian while under his watch, the crown prince himself could be at risk.
"Of course, yes! Had I not sought permission, Devito would have fetched me straight away," Cassian replied, his bored expression betraying a faint glimmer of amusement. Sylas turned his gaze skyward, observing the bright expanse above, until Mrs. Joana emerged from the shop, three paper bags clutched in her arms.
"Here, Sylas, could you hold these for me?" she asked, and both young men straightened, regaining their composure. Sylas took the bags carefully, while Mrs. Joana fumbled in her own bag, searching for her purse.
"Nanny, what troubles you?" Cassian inquired, stepping closer with quiet concern.
"I can't find my purse… I think I may have left it at home," Mrs. Joana said, a furrow of confusion marring her face. Sylas guided his mother gently, helping her search through the bag.
"And where is Elira?" Cassian asked, glancing around,
Just as Elira emerged from the shop, the two gentlemen's eyes fell on her, struck silent. The red velvet bodice hugged her gently, the square neckline and puffy sleeves adorned with ribbons drawing their gaze. The skirt flowed full, crimson florals over pale fabric, echoing her fair skin. Soft brown waves framed her face, gathered loosely at the back, wispy bangs brushing her cheeks, and a tiny ruby necklace glimmered at her throat. Cassian and Sylas, usually composed, couldn't help but watch, utterly mesmerised by her beauty.
Elira, however, felt anything but confident. The dress seemed far too extravagant for her; she was unaccustomed to such finery and feared it made her appear foolish. Little did she know, the two gentlemen were completely captivated by her elegance.
"Ah, here! This fits perfectly… you three wait outside; let me pay for Elira's dress," Mrs. Joana said, finally locating her purse. She left the three of them outside, the air filled with the quiet anticipation of a moment frozen between admiration and embarrassment.
Elira stepped out, cheeks flushed, fingers fidgeting at the hem of her gown. Cassian's eyes softened, a rare, warm smile tugging at his lips, while Sylas instinctively shifted closer, just enough to flank her protectively. Every sway of her dress, every hesitant step, seemed to draw their attention, unspoken admiration lingering in the air. Elira felt exposed, self-conscious in the finery, yet the gentle, steady presence of the two gentlemen beside her made her shoulders ease, a quiet comfort threading through her nerves.