Beasté Élegance Boutique

The moment I stepped inside, I was ambushed.

"Hello, dear customer!" a girl with a high ponytail beamed, appearing in front of me like she had been summoned.

"What are you looking for?" another with high pigtails chimed in, already circling me like I was a limited-time offer.

"Would you like to browse our latest magazine?" a bob-cut girl added, shoving a sleek tablet into my line of sight, filled with outfits that probably cost more than my dignity.

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

Nothing came out because they kept talking.

And talking.

And talking.

I can’t even understand what they’re saying anymore.

"—we also have—"

"—this season’s trending—"

"—custom fittings are available—"

’I am going to leave.’

I was one second away from turning around and walking straight back into the comfort room and accepting my fate as a permanently hidden individual when—

"Ladies."

One word yet terrifyingly effective.

The three salesladies froze like someone had just pressed pause on their existence. Then, in perfect synchronization, they stepped aside.

’...Impressive.’

"Please allow the young miss to speak. Have you already forgotten your manners?"

I looked past them and saw her.

She walked toward me with effortless elegance, every movement were refined. If grace were a person, it would probably ask her for lessons.

The three girls bowed instantly. "We’re sorry, miss."

’Miss?

Oh they were talking to me. ’

The elegant woman turned to me with a warm, practiced smile. "Please do forgive them. They are still learning."

’Learning what? How to overwhelm customers into submission?’

"And you are—?" she prompted gently.

"Blanca," I said slowly. "Blanca Frostine."

Her smile deepened. "Miss Blanca. What a lovely name."

She placed a hand over her chest and gave a graceful bow.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Laurel Elegancia. And these three—" she gestured lightly behind her, "—are Bubbles, Blossom, and Buttercup."

I stared at them.

’What?’

Then back at her.

’Seriously?’

Then at them again.

’Is that really their names?’

All three smiled brightly at me like this was completely normal and I was the weird one for thinking that question.

"...They have lovely names too," I said finally, choosing peace over confusion.

All three beamed like I had just handed them a promotion.

"Thank you, Miss!"

"You’re so kind!"

"We like your vibe already!"

I was immediately their favorite customer.

’Amazing.’

"Nice to meet you," I continued, forcing the conversation back on track. "But I’m just looking for something to cover my eyes. Preferably something I can still see through."

Laurel’s expression shifted. Her eyes sharpened slightly, like I had just presented her a rare commission.

"What an unusual request," she said thoughtfully.

She had that look where she either says ’we don’t have that or we absolutely have that but it costs your soul.’

"It’s okay if you don’t have anything like that," I said quickly, already taking a small step back. "I can just find another bou—"

"Nonsense!"

Before I could process what just happened—

I was sitting on a couch.

Somehow.

’When did I sit down?’

’Why was I sitting down?’

Curtains had been drawn around the area, separating me from the rest of the boutique like I had just entered a VIP section I did not sign up for.

Laurel stood before me, already in full designer mode.

"While we don’t have a ready-made sample," she continued smoothly, "I can personally create one for you."

I blinked.

"Please," she pulled out a tablet, "describe exactly what you’re looking for."

I hesitated for a while before deciding that if I was going to be trapped here, I might as well commit.

"It’s made from delicate lace fabric," I began, gesturing vaguely in the air like that would somehow help, "something see-through, but not too obvious. With embroidery—flowers, maybe swirls... something elegant."

Laurel nodded along, fingers moving quickly across the tablet.

"Lightweight... breathable... concealing, yet revealing..." she murmured like she was decoding a secret formula. "I see the vision."

’Do you?

Because I barely do.’

"And what colors do you prefer?" she asked.

"Please make at least five black and five white."

’Why did I say five?’

’Why not one?’

’Why am I like this?’

"In different designs."

’Why did I add that... I’m not the same filthy rich heiress I used to be...’

Laurel froze for half a second then clapped her hands excitedly. "Perfect!"

I flinched.

"I’ll prepare a sample first and present it to you for approval," she said, already halfway turning away. "I can have it ready in an hour."

’An hour?’

"Please relax," she added brightly. "Have some refreshments while I work on your request!"

And just like that, she disappeared behind the curtains like a magician who had just accepted a challenge.

I sat there, processing what just happened as I slowly leaned back into the couch. "...I only needed one," I muttered to myself.

A tray suddenly appeared in front of me.

One look at it and I know the snacks and drinks were screaming expensive.

I didn’t question it anymore. I just accepted my fate and reached for a drink.

From behind the curtain, I could hear faint excited whispers.

"She ordered ten!"

"Miss Laurel is going all out!"

"Should we prepare the premium thread?!"

I sighed and leaned back into the couch, staring at the ceiling like it had answers.

’Should I sign an IOU... or should I just make a run for it?’

Because at this point, both options sounded equally valid.

I glanced at the refreshments in front of me and took another sip.

"...Okay but if I run, I’m taking this drink with me."

Just as I was mentally calculating how fast I could escape a boutique filled with overly enthusiastic staff—

clink.

Something lightly tapped my foot.

When I looked down, an energy stone had rolled right up to me like it had somewhere important to be and I just happened to be in the way.

"...Huh?" I frowned, slowly reaching down to pick it up.

The moment my fingers touched it, I froze. ’This is my carving...’

The carving, the structure, and most importantly—

I turned it slightly, angling it toward the light, looking for the tiny engraving near the edge.

B.F.

My signature.

"...How did this even—" I stopped.

Something wasn’t right.

I stared at it, turning it slightly in my hand. "...Why is it cracked?"

Thin fractures ran across the surface, like glass that had been pushed just a little too far before breaking.

Cracked energy stones weren’t normal.

Not unless—

Agatha’s voice echoed faintly in my mind.

"If an energy stone starts to crack, it means the user’s energy is too much for it. It can’t contain it."

I stared at the fractures again then slowly shifting towards the curtain beside me.

"...Uhmm, excuse me?" I called out.

No response.

I shifted a little closer. "Hello? You dropped your energy stone."

Still nothing.

The boutique, moments ago filled with chatter and excitement, suddenly felt... quieter.

Or maybe—

this side of the curtain just felt louder.

I hesitated before leaning in slightly.

Just enough to listen.

There was someone breathing uneven, deep, and ragged, like someone was trying very hard to stay in control.

My body stiffened.

Nope.

Nope, nope, absolutely not.

I immediately took a step back, clutching the energy stone.

That was not normal breathing.

That was bad.

Very bad.

Dangerously bad.

Agatha’s voice echoed again in my head:

"If you happen to see beastmen who are acting weird or have trouble controlling their breathing, run as far as you can, they’re currently suffering from Hysteria."

Right.

Good advice.

Great advice.

Advice I was definitely going to follow.

Decision made.

I am leaving.

Right now.

I extended my arm toward the curtain, holding the stone as far away from my body as possible.

"Hey, mister?" I called carefully. "I don’t want to be rude or anything, but I’m just going to drop your energy stone on the floor for you to pick up, okay?"

No response.

Perfect.

I crouched slightly and carefully rolled the stone toward the gap beneath the curtain.

It slipped through smoothly, disappearing into the other side.

I finally did a good deed for today.

Time to go back to pretending I don’t exist.

I started pulling my hand back.

And then—

A hand shot out from behind the curtain.

It was too fast.

It suddenly grabbed my wrist.

"What the—?!"

My breath hitched as I was yanked forward, the curtain parting violently as I was pulled inside.

And just like that, I was pulled into the other lounge.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Vesphyr was gripping the energy stone so tightly his knuckles had long since turned pale.

As if that alone—pressure, force, stubborn refusal—could keep it from breaking any further.

As if it could keep him from breaking.

It didn’t.

The cracks had already spread, thin fractures branching across the surface like veins under glass, like a reminder that the stone could no longer contain him.

His breathing came out uneven. Each inhale scraped against his chest, each exhale trembling with restraint.

’This was a mistake.

A massive one.

Coming to the Capital had been a mistake.

Why had he even agreed?’

Ah.

Right.

Sykelion.

That insufferable, smiling bastard.

"But Duke, it’s been so long since you’ve visited the Capital!"

"You’ll be fine. You have the energy stone, don’t you?"

Vesphyr’s jaw clenched.

’Fine?’

’Does it look like I’m fine right now?’

The very thing meant to stabilize him was currently cracking in his hand like cheap glass.

And where was Sykelion now?

Gone.

Vanished.

Probably arguing over fabrics or insisting on "a full wardrobe refresh" like this was some leisurely outing and not a disaster waiting to unfold.

They could have called the tailor instead.

They always called a tailor.

Measurements taken. Clothes delivered. Minimal exposure to the public.

Simple, controlled, and safe.

But no.

Sykelion insisted.

"We should go in person!"

"Less money spent and you’ll be updated on the trends happening on the Capital!"

Vesphyr dragged a hand across his face that he didn’t notice the energy stone slipped from his grasp because his control was also slipping with it.

A low, strained sound left his throat as he brought his hand up to his mouth and bit down hard on his palm.

He needed something—anything—to anchor himself before the Hysteria fully took over.

Before instinct drowned reason.

Before—

"...Uhm, excuse me?"

His eyes snapped open.

Someone was on the other side of the curtain.

A beastwoman.

His vision sharpened instantly, senses heightening despite the haze clawing at his mind.

No.

No, no, no.

This was bad.

Very bad.

He was supposed to be alone.

He made sure of it.

Or so he thought.

If a civilian got hurt because of him—

His jaw tightened but he stayed silent.

He couldn’t risk speaking. ’Please... just go away...’

"Hello...? You dropped your energy stone."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, breathing uneven.

’Leave.

Please just leave.’

"Hey, mister?" she called again, softer this time, cautious but polite. "I don’t want to be rude or anything, but I’m just going to drop your energy stone on the floor for you to pick up, okay?"

There was a small pause before he saw a delicate and slender hand extending beneath the curtain, placing the stone within reach.

The moment he smelled her, something snapped.

It cut through the chaos in his mind and then made it worse.

The restraint he had been desperately clinging to shattered in an instant and before he could stop himself, his hand shot forward as he grabbed her wrist and pulled.

The curtain parted violently as she was dragged inside, the space between them collapsing in an instant.

She stumbled forward into him.

Vesphyr’s breathing hitched sharply, his grip tightening as he stared down at her, his vision flickering between clarity and something far more dangerous.

’I’m sorry...I’ll take responsibility.’

Whether it was a promise—

or a warning—

even he didn’t know anymore.