Amelie walked with her usual poise, arms folded behind her back, her long coat fluttering slightly. Noah, hands in pockets, scanned the passing storefronts — bakeries, barbers, tailors, and a few more upscale boutiques decorated with polished wood and brass trims.
Noah glanced around "Alright, guide me, fashion expert. I need something that doesn't make me look like a clown."
Amelie snorted. "A bit late for that, don't you think?"
He rolled his eyes. "See, this is why I don't take you out more often."
"You literally begged me to come," she said, smirking.
"I said you're a noble, you probably know fancy clothes, not please save my life."
"Same energy," she shrugged.
Noah tilted his head. "You know what? I'm starting to think you're not here to help. You're here for entertainment."
Amelie grinned. "Exactly. Now stop whining and pick a shop before I drag you into the frilliest one I see."
"Touché," Noah muttered, scanning the row of storefronts. "Let's get this over with before I'm broke and humiliated."
They stepped into the first boutique on the corner — bells jingling softly as the door closed behind them.
The boutique was clean and full of sunlight, with mannequins wearing overpriced outfits and mirrors on every wall like some kind of narcissist's temple. Soft instrumental music played in the background, and a bored-looking attendant gave them a nod before returning to folding trousers with surgical precision.
Noah looked around like he'd just walked into a trap.
"So… which of these makes me look less like a servant and more like someone who can afford lunch?" he whispered.
Amelie hummed thoughtfully, already picking through a row of blazers. "This one's not bad. Dark navy, sharp shoulders, high collar. You'd look halfway competent."
"Wow. Compliment and insult in the same breath. Impressive."
She tossed him the jacket. "Try it on."
He did. It was tight. Not in the flattering way.
"Okay, I can't breathe, and I think I lost circulation in my left arm."
"You're being dramatic."
Noah yanked it off and threw it back on the rack. "I've worn armor more comfortable than that."
Next came a brown suit with gold accents.
"Absolutely not," Noah said the moment he saw it.
"You didn't even try it."
"I refuse to look like someone's rich uncle at a wedding."
They went through three more outfits. Nothing fit right. Nothing felt right. And Amelie's laughter only got louder each time he stepped out of the changing room looking like a misplaced noble's son.
Eventually, Noah sighed, rubbing his face. "This is hell."
Amelie leaned against a shelf, grinning. "I'm having a great time."
Noah stepped out of the changing room one more time, wearing a simple black suit. The fabric draped just right, sharp at the edges but soft enough to move in. Understated. Clean. It looked... good. Too good, maybe.
Amelie looked up from the bench, where she'd been lounging with one leg crossed over the other. Her usual teasing smirk was gone.
"That one," she said quietly. "That's the one."
Noah turned to the mirror, tugging lightly at the collar. "Yeah," he murmured. "Looks expensive."
She shrugged. "Well, you wanted something nice. Welcome to the noble life."
He smirked faintly, but the look didn't quite reach his eyes. After a moment of silence, he glanced at her reflection. His voice came a little lower this time.
"Hey… how have you been lately?"
Amelie blinked. "Huh?"
"You know," he said, facing her now, "the past few days. You've seemed… a bit off."
She tilted her head. "Is that why you asked me to come along?"
"Partly," Noah admitted. "The shopping was real. But… yeah. I noticed you were kinda down. Figured you wouldn't say anything unless I gave you a reason to get out."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I know we don't know each other that well, but—if you ever need to talk or anything. I'm around."
Amelie's expression softened.
"Thanks, Noah," she said. No teasing this time, no jokes. Just honest gratitude.
He gave a casual shrug. "Don't mention it."
A comfortable silence settled between them for a beat, broken only by the soft hum of the shop's music and the quiet city noise outside.
Then Noah pulled out a coin pouch and tossed it to the clerk. "Alright. Wrap it up. I'll take it."
Noah stepped out of the shop with the boxed-up suit under one arm and Amelie walking just beside him. The sun had started to dip slightly, casting warm tones across the cobbled street. The city buzzed with casual chatter, the clatter of carts, and the occasional magical hum from one of the floating delivery runes zipping past overhead.
They strolled along slowly, still chatting about nothing in particular.
"Noah, you really spent all your coin on that suit?" Amelie asked with raised brows.
He sighed, flicking the edge of the box. "Pretty much. I'm almost broke again."
She laughed. "You could've gone for something less dramatic."
"I don't do half-measures, Amelie. If I'm crashing a fancy place, I'm crashing it loud."
As they turned a corner into a quieter street lined with cherry blossom trees, Noah's expression shifted. His eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the alleyways and rooftops.
"...Hold up," he muttered.
Amelie followed his gaze. "What is it?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he stopped walking and turned on his heel, looking up at a second-floor balcony across the street.
"Yo, you planning to follow us all day or what?" he called.
There was a pause.
Then, awkwardly poking her head out from behind a wooden post, was Lys Everin — unmistakable with her short blue hair and the little star ornament gleaming in it. She blinked twice, then stepped out fully as if nothing strange had happened.
"Oh," she said, clearing her throat, "fancy meeting you two here."
Noah sighed.
"You suck at stealth," he said bluntly.
Amelie squinted. "Wait—were you seriously tailing us?"
Lys smiled nervously. "I was just… passing by! Coincidence."
Noah arched a brow. "Wearing the same clothes you had yesterday, Lys."
Her ears turned red. "T-That's not important."
A silence stretched between them.
Then Noah sighed again, exaggerated and theatrical.
"Well," he said, adjusting the box under his arm, "since you're already here... might as well come along."
Lys lit up a little, then tried to tone it down immediately. "I-I mean... sure. If you insist."
Amelie looked between the two of them, raising one unimpressed eyebrow.
"This is going to get weird, isn't it?"
The three of them found a quiet corner in a small food stall tucked between two shops. It wasn't fancy—just a few wooden benches, a counter, and the smell of fried meat and roasted peppers hanging in the air. A far cry from the usual noble restaurants, but Noah preferred it that way. The food was cheap, warm, and filling.
Lys sat across from him, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. Amelie was beside her, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the tension.
"So," Lys finally asked, leaning forward slightly, "what were you two doing?"
Noah didn't even flinch. "Buying a suit."
Lys blinked. "A suit? For what?"
"For a event next month," he replied, stretching out his legs. "Can't show up looking like I just got out of training grounds."
"...And you didn't think of asking me to come along?"
Noah smirked. "You've been busy. Weren't you assigned to community service or something after turning the training grounds into a disaster zone?"
Lys's expression twitched. "True…" she mumbled, suddenly deflating a little.
She looked down at the menu, playing with the corner of the paper.
Noah raised a hand toward the old woman working the counter. "Order whatever you want. My treat."
Amelie glanced around. "This doesn't look expensive."
"It's not," he said flatly. "I just dropped a hundred gold on a suit. I'm on life support."
Lys let out a tiny laugh.