Lady Solemn stood rooted in place, her entire body rigid, her pride crumbling faster than she could hold it together. Never in her life had she felt humiliation so sharp, so consuming, as in this moment—standing before not one, but two princesses. One, with dark turquoise hair spilling freely, laughing carelessly as though she owned the room; the other, with light purple hair, her gaze sharpened into a dagger aimed at the woman across from her.
Then Aquila's eyes cut to her—cold, unflinching. She didn't speak a single word, yet the weight of that glance was louder than thunder.
Get out of my sight.
Lady Solemn's knees weakened. Trembling, she gathered the folds of her skirt and fled the boutique with clumsy haste, her head lowered, humiliation burning her throat until she thought she might burst into tears on her way home.
"Hm." Zuleika's gaze flicked lazily toward the retreating figure, then back to Aquila, who now sat composed, accepting a teacup from one of the trembling staff. Her crimson eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of it.
"Is power and authority truly held in such weight here in Feltogora?" she asked coolly.
"That is how order is kept intact," Aquila replied without opening her eyes, her tone calm yet carrying finality. She lifted the porcelain cup to her lips. "Without it, you will be pushed around like any common stone on the road."
"Crazy," Zuleika muttered, leaning back against the cushioned seat, her crimson gaze settling lazily on Aquila, though her words carried disdain.
The shopkeeper, pale with nerves, stepped forward and bowed low. "We beg Your Highnesses' forgiveness for the earlier disturbance."
Zuleika's eyes drifted toward him, unreadable, her thoughts sharp and cutting.
What a hypocrite.
Only a moment ago, they looked at her as though she were dirt beneath their boots. Now, with the truth unveiled, they offered smiles and bowed spines, eager to worship with the flick of her fingers.
"The dresses. Show me," Aquila commanded, her voice as steady as iron.
The shopkeeper flinched, then quickly motioned to his staff, who scrambled with forced smiles, rushing to bring forward armfuls of gowns.
Moments later, the boutique glittered with fabric—silks and velvets, soft linens and flowing chiffons, dyed in every hue of wealth. The air seemed to hum with the shimmer of gold-thread embroidery, delicate pearls, and jewels stitched into bodices. All of it screamed extravagance, the kind of luxury only royalty or the highest nobility could dare to wear.
Aquila's eyes traced each dress with her usual seriousness, her posture sharp and her gaze focused, as though she were choosing battle strategies instead of fabric. Zuleika, watching her with her chin propped lazily in her hand, stifled a laugh that slipped past her lips anyway.
Aquila's brows knit immediately. "What is so amusing?"
"Why are you always so serious?" Zuleika teased, her crimson eyes gleaming.
"Because I do not have the time to play around like you." Aquila's tone was clipped, her silver gaze returning to the gowns. Without a flicker of hesitation, she gestured from the first dress to the last in one sweeping motion. "I'll take all of them."
The shopkeeper nearly choked, eyes bulging, before stumbling into a deep bow. "Y-Yes, Your Highness!" He spun to order his staff, his voice quivering with both excitement and panic.
Zuleika's lips parted in mock disbelief, her gaze narrowing in playful mischief. "You haven't even tried them, yet you're going to buy everything?"
Aquila tilted her head, calm as ever. "Why not?"
Zuleika gasped, covering her mouth with one hand as though she had discovered a scandal. "Don't tell me… you have this thing called… impulsive buying?"
Aquila's eyes snapped to her, cold as a blade. "I do not."
"You do."
"I said I do not."
"You do." Zuleika's voice sang like a child insisting on winning an argument.
Aquila pressed her lips into something resembling a smile, though it carried no warmth—more the kind of smile someone made when they wanted to slap the innocence off another's face. She exhaled through her nose, a sharp sigh.
"If you only wish to see me in these dresses standing in front of you, Zuleika," she said coolly, leaning back in her seat, "just say so. You do not need to sugarcoat it with your lousy insults."
Zuleika leaned closer, crimson eyes glittering with delight. "Hmm… that would be a nice idea."
Aquila froze, her composure cracking for half a second. Of all the answers she expected, that was not one of them.
She dragged her gaze away, muttering under her breath, "Unbelievable…" Her face, however, clearly screamed she was done with the princess seated across from her.
Behind her, the head maid's lips curved in a secret smile. She reached for a gown—one with soft, flowing layers of pale blue silk trimmed with silver thread. Bowing slightly, she held it out.
"Why not try this one, Your Highness?" the maid offered gently, her tone respectful yet carrying a hint of knowing amusement.
Aquila's brows furrowed, her gaze flickering between the maid's calm smile and Zuleika's barely restrained laughter. Her teeth pressed together as if she were holding back a retort.
Zuleika, of course, could not resist. "Yes, Aquila," she chimed, her voice dripping with mock sweetness, "do try it on. Surely the great Ice Princess won't melt from a little silk?"
Aquila closed her eyes, counted silently to three, then rose from her seat with regal precision. "Fine."
Her voice was low, dangerous, yet laced with resignation. "But only to silence the two of you."
Zuleika clapped softly, clearly enjoying herself. "Oh, this will be entertaining."
Aquila entered one of the dressing rooms while Zuleika watched her disappear behind the curtain.
Minutes slipped by.
Zuleika drummed her fingers on the armrest of the couch, her crimson eyes flickering to the head maid who was busy discussing the prices with the shopkeeper. She let out a dramatic sigh.
"What is taking her so long?" Zuleika muttered, leaning back.
Her maid, Cess, who stood dutifully behind her, tilted her head. "Where are you going, Princess?" she asked as Zuleika rose from her seat.
"I will check on Princess Aquila," Zuleika replied breezily. "She's taking far too long. At this rate, if she were on a date, the poor man would've dumped her already."
Cess pressed her lips together, half in amusement, half in worry. But before she could argue, Zuleika had already padded across the polished floor and stopped in front of the curtain.
With a mischievous smile, she tugged it slightly open. "Princess, you're taking your sweet time so long. If you were on a date with a man, he'd have dumped you for changing way too long." She laughed lightly, eyes closed in her own amusement.
Silence.
Zuleika blinked, then opened her eyes—only to find herself face-to-face with Aquila's sharp, narrowed gaze.
The Imperial Princess stood half-dressed, the gown draped around her but not yet tied at the back. Her pale skin was bare, hair cascading like liquid frost down her shoulders. She was struggling with the laces, her movements stiff with irritation.
Zuleika froze. Once. Twice. Thrice. Her lips pursed. "…Oh."
Aquila arched a brow. "Well? Are you just going to stand there gawking?"
Zuleika coughed into her hand, forcing a grin. "Oh, do you… need help?"
Her tone was innocent, but her eyes betrayed the way they couldn't help but flicker over Aquila's form.
"Yes," Aquila said simply.
The bluntness caught Zuleika off guard. She jolted, cheeks twitching. "Oh. Uh. Okay."
Gathering herself, she slipped fully inside, tugging the curtain shut behind her. The space wasn't too small, but close enough that she could feel the faint warmth radiating off Aquila as she stepped forward.
She stepped closer, fingers brushing the laces. The silk was smooth beneath her hands, and she tugged carefully, threading the ribbons into place.
"Hm… tighter? Or would Your Highness prefer to breathe while walking?" Zuleika teased.
"Tighter," Aquila replied curtly.
Zuleika smirked. "Of course. Nothing says elegance like suffocating in silk."
Her fingers moved deftly, pulling the gown snug. Each tug drew the fabric closer around Aquila's form, and Zuleika leaned forward unconsciously, her breath ghosting against the back of Aquila's neck. Aquila's shoulders stiffened.
"Do you always chatter while assisting someone?" Aquila asked, her voice calm but edged.
"Yes. Silence makes things awkward."
"…This is already awkward."
Zuleika chuckled softly, tilting her head. "Not for me."
As she worked the laces, her hand brushed Aquila's hair aside, letting it fall gently over one shoulder. Her gaze lingered at the smooth line of her back—until she noticed something at the curve of her nape.
"Oh, you have a mole here," Zuleika murmured without much thought, fingers pausing near it.
Aquila shifted her eyes to the mirror before them, where their reflections stood close together. "Where?"
"At your nape," Zuleika said, still tugging at the stubborn ribbon while trying not to focus too much on the intimacy of the moment.
"Hm." Aquila's reply was faint, but her eyes didn't stay on her own reflection—they slid instead toward Zuleika's figure in the mirror. The way her brows furrowed in concentration, lips slightly pursed as she wrestled with the lace.
The Imperial Princess said nothing, but her gaze lingered, unblinking.
"Is it still not done?" Aquila asked, voice calm but carrying that edge of impatience.
Zuleika frowned, tugging at the stubborn ribbon. "Almost, I just need to… urgh, tie this one." Her fingers worked with determination, pulling the silk tight.
Aquila's eyes didn't leave the mirror. She wasn't watching herself—no, her gaze was fixed on Zuleika's reflection, the way crimson eyes narrowed in focus, the warmth of those slender fingers brushing against her back.
And suddenly—unbidden—the memory returned. The Duke's estate. That insane moment when Zuleika had suddenly claimed her lips without warning. Aquila's brows furrowed as her lips pressed into a thin line. What a crazy, ridiculous woman…
Yet, despite herself, she couldn't deny it. That kiss had felt… a little too good.
It wasn't like it was her first kiss. In her teenage years, she had entertained a few noble men—passing indulgences, their mouths clumsy, tasteless, dull. None had left her stirred, none worth carrying beyond a fleeting encounter. She had grown bored before they could ever lead her into deeper intimacy.
But with Zuleika? One reckless kiss had lingered. Burned.
Aquila felt something sharp curl in her chest, vicious, teasing, dangerous—something she herself would never have expected to think. Her lips curved into the faintest smile, sly and knowing.
"There. It's all done," Zuleika said softly, her breath brushing warm against Aquila's nape as she gave the final knot a firm tug.
Then she smiled—innocent, unguarded—straight at Aquila.
Zuleika's smile faltered when her gaze shifted to the mirror. Aquila—usually sharp and severe—was smiling. Not fully, not openly. Just the barest curve at her lips, subtle but undeniable.
"What?" Zuleika asked, confusion slipping into her voice.
Aquila didn't answer. Instead, she turned, her silver eyes catching Zuleika's. The movement drew Zuleika's attention lower—down to the pale line of her collarbone, where another small mole rested, one she hadn't noticed before.
"What is it?" Zuleika whispered, voice soft without meaning to, her crimson eyes locked on Aquila.
Then—unexpected, unhesitating—Aquila stepped forward.
Zuleika instinctively leaned back, only to feel her shoulders press against the wall behind her. Her breath hitched, her head tilting in confusion. What is she doing—?
Before the thought could form fully, Aquila rose onto her toes, closing the last sliver of distance.
Her lips met Zuleika's.
Zuleika's eyes widened, heart slamming into her ribs. Her hands twitched helplessly at her sides, her body frozen as Aquila's soft lips pressed against hers—unhurried, deliberate. The faint brush of Aquila's long lashes ghosted her cheek, and for one dizzying second, Zuleika forgot how to breathe.
Then—just as suddenly as it happened—Aquila pulled back.
Zuleika's lips parted, trembling in the lingering heat of the kiss. She could only stare, dazed, at the woman in front of her. Mischief glimmered in Aquila's silver eyes, playful and sharp. Her pale fingers brushed against her own lips, as though considering.
"…Hmm." Aquila hummed lightly, thoughtful. Almost as if she were rating the moment, weighing it with wicked curiosity.
"It really is different," she murmured to herself.
Her eyes flicked once more to Zuleika's lips, still parted in shock, before curving into the sweetest, most disarming smile. Without another word, she turned, parting the curtain and slipping out of the dressing room, leaving only the ghost of her warmth behind.
Zuleika blinked once. Twice. Her face flooded crimson as the reality finally crashed over her.
Her hand shot up, the back of it pressing against her lips, trembling. "W-w-w-what… what just—" she stammered, her voice breaking with panic as her reflection in the mirror mocked her with flushed cheeks and wide, flustered eyes.
Her heart was racing, her lips tingling, her thoughts an incoherent mess.
And for the first time in a long time… Princess Zuleika Livia Yekosta Vasiliou was utterly, hopelessly undone.