As expected, the VIP room was breathtaking. The moment you step inside, you’ll see the beautiful chandeliers designed to look like fireflies caught in a beautiful dance. The walls were painted to resemble the Canto Forest, an enchanting place found south of the empire. Legends say that it was once home to the elves—an ancient enigmatic civilization, once at the pinnacle of advancement.

  Every piece of furniture blended seamlessly into this captivating setting. The sofa, shaped as if it was carved into a tree, was looking sturdy and inviting, while the mushroom table looked so tasty I wanted to take a bite out of it.

  Lev and I went into separate dressing rooms to have our measurements taken and right when we had just finished doing that, Sienna went inside and announced herself.

  “Young Miss, Young Master, I have come with the catalogs,” She said, standing at the entrance trying to pull off a polite smile, though the lingering shock from earlier wasn’t making that easy.

  I took one of the catalogs from her hands and sat down—elegantly, of course—while swiftly flipping through the pages. I barely even acknowledged Sienna not because I don’t like her or anything, but I’d rather not be irritated by her obviously scrutenizing eyes.

  Dresses of various styles and colors were showcased in it, whole collections were shown, but before I could narrow down my preferred styles and colors, Sienna spoke up again.

  “Oh do forgive me for asking this late, Young Master, Young Miss, but… What musical premiere are you attending?”

  Wait…

  What?

  Lev and I turned to each other.

  Right.

  We don’t even know what kind of musical we were going to watch.

  Sienna blinked at our lack of response then awkwardly cleared her through, “Ahem. It should be on the tickets you were given…”

  Lev reached into his pocket and pulled out the two envelopes my mother handed him. They were crumpled—of course they were, they’d been in his pocket after all.

  Smoothing them out, he read aloud “It’s a stage adaptation of Florian and Laurel, huh. A classic piece of literature. I didn’t know they were making a musical out of it.”

  A soft snicker interrupted him.

  “How would you?” Said a woman whos trolled in with amusement twinkling in her eyes. “You find out about what’s been circling around high society and the media six months after unless its brought up to you.”

  She nudged him with her elbow but he didn’t react. Though, it was clear that he didn’t particularly mind the gesture either.

  I found that… odd. But I only took note of it for now.

  Lev responded flatly, “I don’t see the point in taking an interest in such things. And how is the title of the musical even relevant to picking out our clothes.”

  Where have I heard something like this before?

  Oh… right…

  Years ago, when our parents had all four of us—Yves, Yvonne, Yvon, and me—coordinate outfits for the founding celebration, their smart eldest had insisted on wearing an all black outfit, clothes and accessories, to the event. ‘Why should the color matter when the clothes look fine?’ that was his arguments. Our parents had a hard time explaining to him why dark and gloomy clors weren’t the best choice for a festive occasion because to him, it was just a color—nothing more, nothing less. He was twelve then so our parents chalked it up to childhood stubbornness.

  “And that explains why you and my brother are friends…” I muttered.

  “The title is relevant because they’ll be basing our clothes on it. Just like how you wouldn’t wear bright colors to a funeral, maybe it's also not a good idea to wear an obnoxiously bright color like yellow to play about a child documenting her life all alone in the wilderness after escaping captivity from Namorian soldiers—all while fully aware she’ll be dead in a matter of days, leaving behind only her journal as a trace of her existence, don’t you think?”

  “You’ve read The Journals of Frtiz Finch?” Lev asked.

  I let out a short laugh, “No, Yvon did. Repeatedly. He read it aloud so many times that I have chapters of it unwillingly memorized.

  “I see,” He picked up a cup of tea that had been set on the table for us.

  “Perhaps you should handle these—” He said as he gestured to the dresses and suits going in and out of the room, “—types of matters. I’m not ignorant on it, but you are more knowledgable than I.”

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  I took a sip of my own cup of tea, smirking. “Obviously. If I let you take care of it, cleaning up the media’s twisted tales about us will become my job by default because you’d be to uninterested in taking care of how we appear in public. It’d be a nightmare to step in high society. And plus, that also gives me the excuse of dressing you up to my heart’s content.”

  Lev chuckled, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk—one so effortlessly charming it nearly made me swoon.

  Nearly.

  “Oh no, poor me,” he said sarcastically, amusement dancing in his voice, “Whatever shall I do? My wife is planning to turn me into her doll.”

  I tilted my head, eyes brimming with mischief.

  “That’s right,” I said cheekily, “My handsome doll of a husband and I are going to have so much fun, aren’t we?”

  His smirk remained as he leaned back slightly, “For you, it’ll be fun no doubt. But I’m not sure what I’ll get out of this.”

  I flipped through the catalog absent-mindedly, speaking to the staff members attending to me while continuing to tease him. “You’ll get one very happy wife, that’s what.”

  Lev let out another chuckle.

  “A happy wife, huh? Then… I look forward to being your little dress-up doll.”

  He and I looked into each other's eyes, the banter felt so natural that I couldn’t help but smile and I could see that he couldn’t help but smile too.

  Then I noticed how quiet the room was.

  All around us, the boutique staff who had been attending to us—Sienna, the woman from earlier, the head tailor, and a few others—were flushed. Some hid behind their clipboards, others busied themselves pretending to straighten out dresses and fabrics.

  Sienna, looking like she was trying very hard to remain composed, finally cleared her throat and stammered, “A-Ah! I see! These are the kinds of clothes you like! We will have your clothes ready as soon as possible! Should you require assistance or need anything, do not hesitate to call us! Please enjoy your t-time here at T-Tissu!”

  I took another sip of my tea, immensely pleased with myself. What a shame my brother wasn’t here to see this

  ?

  Despite still being full, I nibbled on the refreshments out of courtesy, though I had to pair the snacks with tea—my least favorite beverage, making me contemplate whether or not I should start bringing a container of hot chocolate with me wherever I go. Lev on the other hand had sipped his tea quietly with that same composed expression he wore.

  The room was quiet, save for the occasional click of equipment, yet despite that some of the boutique’s staff decided to gossip in a quiet room with us, the people they were gossiping about.

  Honestly, were they even thinking?

  Their hushed voices carried just enough for the two of us to overhear.

  “Are they really engaged?” a woman whispered.

  “Probably,” a man replied. “But it must be for political reasons. I mean, It has to be! Otherwise, why would the Young Master be engaged to her of all people?”

  I smirked, unsurprised at their reactions.

  “It’s most likely for political reasons, but what is it to us? It’s their lives, not ours. If they want to get married they should. We don’t have a say in what they can and can’t do. They don’t do that to us, why should we do that to them? We’re just outsiders looking into whatever their relationship is. And besides, didn’t you see the look on the Young Master’s face earlier? That was genuine hilarity!” Another man said.

  Well, at least someone has tact.

  The woman lowered her voice as if she was about to share something profound, “Maybe he’s agreeing to this marriage because you know… she reminds him of Her Radiance.”

  “I mean, look at her! Sure her hair is pink rather than magenta and her eyes are a lighter shade of green but she looks so much like her!” she added. “You know if that was the case then I can relate because if I can’t have the man I want, someone similar is the next best thing.”

  The other man muttered, “What kind of mindset is that?”

  Now that was amusing.

  Before I could listen even more to them, Lev’s voice cut through the room.

  “Everyone out until Sienna returns. Out. Now.”

  Their chatter ceased immediately. The staff scrambled to their feet, nervous glances darted toward Lev before they quickly scurried out.

  Now it was just the two of us.

  I turned to him, an eyebrow raised.

  “You know that you didn’t have to send them out, right?”

  “I’d rather not be gossiped about to my face,” he said as he leaned back against his chair, his tone impassive.

  “Oh, but I was actually enjoying their conversation,” I said, swirling my tea around, “They shared something valuable to me.”

  Curiosity flickered in Lev’s usually unreadable gaze. “Which is?”

  “Their opinions.”

  His brow arched slightly, “And why does that matter to you?”

  I placed my cup down and sat straight, elegantly presenting myself. “Many will have comments about us. Most will probably say something similar to what they just did.”

  “Does that bother you?” He asked.

  “Personally? No,” I answered, meeting his gaze head-on. “Not really. I couldn’t care less about what people say about me, I haven't had for a while. They can compare me to a vortan for all I care and I still wouldn’t bat an eye. I've heard practically every insult the ladies of Vreqiseon’s high society have to offer.”

  “However… Public opinion matters when it comes to governing. You and I both know that cracks in ruling families can lead to the downfall of entire territories—empires even. We've seen too many examples of that in the last twenty years. The Namorians, the Albiorens, and the Luthavienne’s are just some of them.”

  Assessing my words, Lev curled his lips slightly—not quite a smile but close enough. “What do you suggest we do, then?”

  I couldn’t stop a playful smile from forming on my face reminding myself of Yvon, I guess we’re more similar than I care to admit.

  I pressed a finger to my lips, tilting my head with exaggerated thoughtfulness.

  “Well… How about you start falling in love with me?”

  Lev, who’d been drinking tea, suddenly coughed after hearing me say that. I caught him off guard, nearly choking him as a result. His eyes were glued to me as he blinked, utterly dumbfounded.

  I burst into laughter, “HAHAHAHAH! Oh, you should see the look on your face! This is golden!”

  I clapped my hands together gleefully, unable to stop laughing at my fiancé who was stunned, “I am going to have so much fun teasing you! Oh! HAHAHAHA! This is going to be a blast!”

  Lev shook his head, biting his lower lop as if to restrain a laugh of his own. “First a cash grab, then a dress-up doll, now a jester? My wife sure is going to put me to work.”

  I leaned toward him slightly, “You sure are already comfortable calling me your wife.”

  “It’s what you’ll be by the end of the month. Might as well get used to it soon. Or is my bride having second thoughts?”

  I returned the question to him, “Are you?”

  “No,” He answered immediately.

  “Good,” I said smiling, “Neither am I.”

  I took another sip of my tea and then with a mischievous glint in my eyes said, “And you really sure smile more, you know? You’re more handsome when you do.”