I looked around while walking with Vionette and the others.
It was a beautiful, clean, and lively city—far greater than Thalaor. The buildings were somewhat identical to modern ones, yet not quite. It was as if someone had taken a memory of another world and gently stitched it into fantasy stone. Glass met carved marble. Clean lines curved into ornamental arches. Modern and magic stood side by side like old friends who had learned to share the same table.
This was the Elyndor Kingdom's capital city—Veylith.
"This is the place," Vionette said proudly, placing her left hand on her waist before turning toward me. The wind caught her hair slightly, as if even the breeze agreed with her sense of grandeur.
The building stood at the heart of the street, its facade gleaming in pristine white with subtle gold trim along the cornices. Large arched windows framed the entrance, allowing passersby to glimpse the elegant displays within. Polished marble steps led to double doors of frosted glass etched with delicate motifs of threads and needles—a subtle nod to the art of tailoring.
It was slightly grander than the surrounding shops. Not loud, not arrogant—just confident. Like a noble who didn't need to announce their status.
Small, tastefully arranged planters flanked the entrance, adding a touch of green to the crisp palette.
Ting-ting-ting.
The bell above the door chimed as we stepped inside.
"Welcome! Oh my, it's Princess Vionette!"
A warm voice greeted us near the entrance.
A dark elf approached—white hair falling smoothly behind her shoulders, sharp gold-brown eyes observing everything with composed precision. She wore a fitted black suit with a crisp tie, black pants, and a white long-sleeved shirt. Professional. Elegant. Meticulous. She looked like someone who could judge a person's measurements and character in a single glance.
"Hello, Nymira," Vionette said, waving casually as if she owned the building.
Nymira came closer, smiling politely.
"So what kind of request do you have today?"
"I want some good outfits for my partner and his family."
Her gold-brown eyes shifted toward us.
I stood next to Vionette. Mom and Lina were behind us, flanked by the knight and the green-haired doctor. For a moment, I felt like livestock being presented at an auction.
If she laughs at us seeing our clothes as commoners, I'm going to…
"You really are far from ordinary, Princess Vionette," Nymira said gently. "But that man is even more."
She smiled—calm, confident, and entirely unreadable.
"Okay then. Let's get started."
She raised her hand.
Clap.
"Guys, we have three important customers!"
Employees gathered around us almost instantly, excitement flashing across their faces like sparks catching dry grass.
"Ohh! Special customers indeed! Look at that cute girl!"
"I want to put every matching fit on her!"
"The man looks good. If he gets a new haircut he'll be so handsome."
"I wonder if the newly made dress will work on the lady."
Murmurs surrounded us. They wore uniform business attire, but they were from every race imaginable—elves, humans, beastfolk, even demons.
Wait. Demons?
They just hang out here?
Before I could process that revelation, it became clear.
We were test subjects.
We were guided to the second floor as employees floated garments through the air using magic. Fabric moved like obedient spirits, hovering neatly in place. Nymira led the procession.
Apparently, this place wasn't just a boutique. They made custom clothing, handled hairdressing and styling, and even borrowed ideas from otherworlders working here. This wasn't just fashion.
This was warfare.
Inside, the space was bright and airy. High ceilings, large windows pouring in sunlight, white marble floors gleaming beneath crystal chandeliers. Golden accents warmed the interior while velvet seating invited customers to linger.
Everything whispered refinement.
Mom leaned toward me.
"Isn't this a bit too exaggerated?"
She looked overwhelmed—as if she had accidentally stepped into a royal ceremony instead of a clothing store.
"Don't worry," I said with a smile. "Just enjoy it like Lina. This is payment for saving me."
Her expression softened. That faint smile of hers always felt like something fragile but precious.
Nymira gestured dramatically.
"This is where our salon is. Guys, they're all yours."
bruh.
---
On the second floor, Vionette sat elegantly at a table prepared just for her, sipping tea like a bored aristocrat waiting for entertainment. She crossed her legs, pretending not to care—but her eyes were sharp.
"Wow! It looks so good!"
"That haircut matches perfectly!"
Hearing the excited chatter, I looked toward where they were pointing.
Noa ran a hand through his hair as he stepped out.
His hair down the middle, the black strands on top falling in slightly tousled layers on either side of his face. The sides were shaved clean in a sharp undercut, emphasizing the length and volume above. The longer strands weren't styled—they simply draped naturally, framing his face with an effortless, slightly rebellious elegance. The middle part gave his messy look a hint of symmetry, balancing carelessness with intentionality.
His body had filled out over the years; broad shoulders, lean muscle built naturally rather than through bulky training. He wasn't overly thick or exaggerated—just balanced. Strong arms, a defined torso beneath the fabric, and long legs that gave him a solid, grounded presence.
He wore a fitted black shirt left untucked, the fabric falling freely past his waist. Over it rested a dark purple coat that extended just slightly past his hips, tailored close to his frame without restricting movement. The inside was plain deep purple, clean and sharp. On the left sleeve, a stylized purple snake tattoo design coiled upward across the fabric, subtle but striking against the black.
Slim black pants fit close to his legs, reinforced at the thighs with two strap details on one side. The material looked flexible but durable. Black boots with faint purple accents completed the outfit, sturdy enough for combat but sleek enough to pass for modern streetwear.
Wow indeed, I thought, watching him adjust the coat casually as if he hadn't just walked out of a fashion magazine.
For a moment, I forgot to blink.
I would've argued about the all-black look lacking style.
But it fit him.
His eyes made the darkness look intentional.
"So, how much?" he asked, stepping closer and adjusting his sleeves.
"10/10. Looking good."
It wasn't flattery.
He held my gaze for a fraction longer than usual and smirked.
"Well, let's wait for the other two. I think Lina will get a lot of time. The employees are putting every dress on her."
He sat down, accepting tea from an employee like he belonged here.
To our surprise, the next one to step out wasn't his mother.
It was Lina.
Lina's pink twin-tails fell past her shoulders in soft waves, tied neatly with sleek black ribbons. A small braid traced delicately along the left side of her hair before blending into the twin-tail, adding a subtle touch of elegance. Her bright blue eyes were wide and expressive, sparkling with warmth and playful honesty that made her natural cuteness impossible to ignore.
She wore a soft white upper dress with lightly puffed sleeves trimmed in small black ribbons, flowing into a vivid red skirt layered with gentle white frills beneath. A bold black ribbon tied neatly at her waist pulled the outfit together.
Around her neck rested a thin black choker layered with a delicate chain holding a small golden star pendant and a tiny red heart charm. Colorful bead bracelets mixed with a silver charm band adorned her wrist, completing her look with playful charm.
"Young miss, you look adorable!"
"Yes~!"
"That dress is perfect!"
The room practically melted.
Sara, the employee who had poured us tea earlier, leaned toward me.
"Uhh… pardon me for asking this but, Princess… is that your child?"
My brain froze.
"W-what are you saying!?"
Do I look that old to bear a child?!
And—
That bastard is trying to hold in his laughter.
"Oh, my apologies," Sara bowed quickly. "It's just that… she looks just as beautiful as you are."
I slowly turned to her.
"Really?"
"Really!"
I placed the tea down carefully.
"Well, you can say she is my sister."
I lifted my chin proudly.
Yes. That's right.
After Lina devoured the cake given to her without mercy, the final curtain call began.
Noa's mother—
Wait. What should I call her? I can't just say 'Noa's mother' forever.
Ahem.
Finally, auntie stepped out.
Silence fell.
Her figure was perfectly balanced—graceful, youthful, refined. She looked no older than twenty-five. Her long brown hair flowed in soft waves down her back, gathered into a simple braid that swept over her left shoulder and fell in front, the end tied neatly with a dark red hairband. Loose strands framed her golden-brown eyes, warm and attentive.
She wore a flowing, layered dress with a deep crimson base and a soft black overlay. The left side of the dress was cut from her lower thigh, giving her freedom of movement while adding a touch of modern flair. Sleeves were fitted with a gentle flare at the cuffs, ending just above her wrists, and a thin dark belt at her waist subtly highlighted her natural silhouette.
On her feet were black high-heeled shoes, elegant yet refined. Minimal accessories—a delicate chain bracelet with tiny charms—added small, playful movement whenever she lifted her hand.
Every detail of her hair, dress, and posture gave her an air of maternal grace, refined elegance, and youthful beauty. If she had golden hair, she would've been mistaken for nobility.
Looking at her reflection, she fidgeted slightly.
"Um… isn't this…a bit too much?"
No one answered.
Not because it was bad.
But because it was devastating.
One by one, we raised our thumbs.
That was all we could manage.
"Wow! That countryside cloth really took away your beauty," Noa muttered beside me.
"Totally agree," I replied before I could stop myself.
And just like that, our quiet family outing turned into a fashion revolution.
The capital of Elyndor didn't just polish appearances.
It revealed them.