They lingered just beyond the shop, where the air was touched with the scent of fresh cloth and perfume from passing ladies. Elira stood with her cheeks flushed a tender rose, her eyes lowered in bashful grace. Both hands clutched at the folds of her new dress, as though the fabric itself might steady her trembling heart.
"H-how… how is it?" Her voice broke upon the hush, delicate and uncertain, a sound too fragile for the bustle of the street.
Sylas found himself robbed of words. A storm of unfamiliar warmth pressed against the cold armour he wore about his heart. He turned aside, jaw tense, eyes fixed stubbornly on the other direction, while his fingers sought refuge at his neck. He could not speak—yet her gaze, shy and hopeful, rested on him first, waiting for his voice to fall like rain upon silence.
But it was Cassian who answered. His deep blue eyes, bright as sapphire fire, did not falter. He breathed deeply, as though steadying the air between them, and spoke with a softness that lingered.
"You are beautiful, Elira."
The words carried both truth and reverence, and his smile, warm and gentle, reached her like sunlight. Elira's eyes widened, startled by the sweetness of his praise. She had thought—no, she had wished—that Sylas would be the one. Yet Sylas remained turned away, his silence heavier than a hundred spoken lines. Was it shyness that held his tongue, or the strangeness of beholding her dressed in splendour that eclipsed all others?
In that moment, she seemed to outshine every lady who passed upon the street.
The shop door creaked open, and Mrs Joana stepped forth with joy bright upon her face. Her hand, motherly and warm, found Elira's shoulder.
"So, boys, how does she look?"
Cassian chuckled lightly, bowing his head in jest. "You've turned this girl into a fine lady, Nanny."
"You silly boy." Mrs Joana laughed, shaking her head with affection. "Come now, let us call at the shoemaker's. A pair of shoes will make her whole."
At once, Elira's blush deepened, crimson stealing across her cheeks like twilight upon pale stone. She shook her head, her lips stumbling into protest.
"N-no… the dress is already too much, Mrs Joana. It would not be right to trouble your husband, the Commander, with such expense."
But another voice cut gently across her hesitation.
"I will buy them."
They turned, startled, for it was Sylas who had spoken. His tone was cool, yet within it lay a quiet strength that made their hearts pause. Cassian's smile softened into silence; Elira, wide-eyed, could scarcely breathe. She had forgotten—how strange—that Sylas was no mere youth, but a captain of the king's own guard.
Her gaze brushed his, timid yet luminous, and in that fleeting moment, the world stilled. He turned away swiftly, as though her eyes had burned through the frost of his composure.
"Let's go," he murmured, already striding forward, the parcels of Mrs Joana's purchases weighing lightly in his hands.
Cassian lingered behind, a faint curve of amusement at his lips, before he cast one more glance towards Elira. And so, beneath the dimming sky, the four of them walked on, their shadows lengthening upon the cobblestones, carrying with them words left unspoken and hearts quietly stirred.
The four of them had already stepped into the shoemaker's shop, one of the most renowned in the capital. Luckily, there were only a few customers wandering about, giving the space a calm, almost private air. Sylas drifted slowly among the displays, his eyes scanning, perhaps searching for something that might catch his interest. Meanwhile, Mrs Joana busied herself with selecting several styles that might suit Elira perfectly.
Elira stood somewhat frozen, unsure of what to choose. She had never before beheld such flamboyant shoes in her life; the idea that she could even set foot in such a place seemed almost impossible to her.
At last, her gaze settled upon a single pair displayed elegantly on a stand. Light peach ballet flats, adorned with delicate lace overlay, trimmed with beads, and finished with a tiny cluster of fabric flowers and rhinestones at the toe. Her eyes sparkled with delight. She reached out, almost reverently, to examine the price—yet the sight of it sent a jolt through her.
Her face froze into a look of utter shock, her breath catching.
"Forty silver coins!?" she murmured to herself, hastily lowering the shoes back onto the stand, her attention immediately drifting to another display. She dared not linger; she feared Mrs Joana might notice and insist on buying them for her. The thought of imposing such expense on the kind woman made her cheeks flush with embarrassment. The dress alone had already been more than enough.
Yet Sylas had been observing all along. A faint, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He found himself quietly entertained by her reaction to the shoes, noting her hesitance with quiet fondness. As Elira moved out of his line of sight, he silently approached the very pair that had captivated her attention. Gently, he brushed his fingers over the delicate surface, thinking to himself, "So, this is the type of shoes she desires…"
As Cassian stepped away from the pile of women's shoes, his eyes were set on finding a pair that would perfectly complement Elira's dress for the day. He had no need for a new pair himself—after all, the palace already overflowed with shoes of every kind. Yet one pair caught his eye among the plain, simple designs: shiny red patent leather ballet flats, each adorned with a small ribbon. He lifted them carefully in his hands.
"This should fit," he murmured to himself, glancing up briefly to meet the quiet curiosity in Elira's eyes, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.
After strolling around the store, searching for her among the aisles, he finally spotted Elira seated on a wide chair. She had looked every which way, her gaze flicking nervously from one costly shoe to another, and, overwhelmed by the extravagance, she had chosen to sit and wait for the others to finish browsing.
"Hey, Elira…" Cassian called softly from a few paces away. Immediately, her attention flicked to him, and she noticed the pair of shoes he carried.
"Take a look," Cassian said, holding the red flats towards her.
Elira's eyes lit up, her voice bright with innocent curiosity. "What beautiful shoes! Cassian, are these for your mother?" she asked, utterly unaware of his true intention.
Cassian's lips curved into a subtle, wry smile—a touch of irritation hidden beneath quiet amusement at her misunderstanding.
"Hahaha, no… these are for you," he said, kneeling suddenly before her. "Let me help you try them on."
Elira's breath caught, startled and flustered. "N-no… Cassian! You're the crown prince! You shouldn't kneel before a commoner like me," she stammered, her cheeks burning.
Cassian only smiled warmly, a cheerful reassurance in his eyes."I'm Cassian, not a prince here. for this day I'm not in the palace ahaha," he said softly.
Elira could do nothing to resist the persistent prince. Gently, he lifted a small portion of her skirt to slide the delicate shoe onto her right foot. He offered his arm gracefully as he held the shoe, and once again helped her into it. Elira's heart fluttered, her breath catching. She had never imagined a crown prince would kneel so elegantly just to help her wear a pair of shoes.
"See? Perfect, isn't it?" Cassian said, his dearest smile brightening his face. Elira glanced down at the shoe he had helped her into—it fit her perfectly, the colour and style complementing her small, delicate feet. She returned his gaze with a shy, radiant smile.
"Thank you, Cassian," she said softly, and the warmth of her expression struck him unexpectedly, a quiet delight sparking in his chest. He looked away, gently helping her with the second shoe, mindful of every careful movement as the pair settled snugly on her feet.
"Oh… such lovely shoes, they suit you perfectly, Elira," Mrs Joana said suddenly, appearing just in time to witness the moment. Both of them started, startled by her sudden appearance. Elira quickly looked away, her gaze flicking in another direction, while Cassian rose from his kneel and said,
"Isn't it, Nanny? I picked them for her," he said with gentle pride, though he carefully hid the faint embarrassment at having knelt before Elira.
"How much are they?" Mrs Joana asked, reaching for the register.
"No, let me pay for them, Nanny," Cassian interjected, already striding to settle the purchase for the pair of shoes Elira now wore. Elira remained stunned, barely able to comprehend that Cassian had bought them for her.
Cassian allowed himself a faint, private smile. He had not expected that she would love the choice he had made for her. The shoes paid for, he felt a quiet satisfaction.
Meanwhile, in a shadowed corridor, Sylas had seen the entire scene unfold. Cassian had knelt before Elira with impeccable posture, guiding her gently into the shoes he had chosen. For Sylas, it was the first time he had witnessed Cassian kneel for another with such delicate care. A flicker of irritation stirred in his chest—but he chose to ignore it. Cassian was his friend, and he knew well even though Cassian was a prince, here he was just himself, showing care and devotion to Elira as any ordinary person might.