For several seconds, nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody breathed.

Well.

Most people breathed.

Kael hoped.

The inn lobby remained silent as Seraphina stared at the blue dress in her hands.

The merchant watched.

The crowd watched.

Even the bride-to-be from earlier watched.

Which felt excessive.

Seraphina looked down at the collar again.

Then the sleeves.

Then the embroidery.

Then the merchant.

"You made this?"

The merchant nodded.

"My family did."

Family.

Interesting.

That explained a lot.

She looked at the dress again.

The confidence from earlier was gone.

Not completely.

But reduced.

Tempered.

Because this wasn’t bad work.

Bad work was easy.

Good work was difficult.

Very difficult.

Changing something good without ruining it was far harder than fixing something broken.

The merchant noticed her hesitation.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"You don’t know what to change."

The crowd shifted.

Some looked disappointed.

Others looked interested.

Kael immediately disliked where this was heading.

Seraphina’s pride disliked it even more.

"I know what I would change."

"Then why haven’t you?"

A fair question.

An annoying question.

The worst kind.

The truthful kind.

Seraphina glanced at the dress again.

Then said something nobody expected.

"Because I’m not sure if it would make it better."

Silence.

The merchant blinked.

The crowd blinked.

Kael almost smiled.

Almost.

That answer was probably the smartest thing she’d said all week.

The merchant studied her carefully.

Then—

For the first time—

His expression softened slightly.

Only slightly.

"Most people would’ve started cutting already."

Seraphina looked horrified.

"That’s insane."

The merchant stared.

"You were literally doing that yesterday."

"Those clothes were asking for help."

The dress in her hands wasn’t.

And that was the problem.

The merchant folded his arms.

"Then what would you do?"

Now the question had changed.

Not:

Can you improve it?

But:

How do you think?

Much more dangerous.

Seraphina turned the dress around slowly.

Thinking.

Actually thinking.

Not performing.

Not showing off.

Thinking.

Then she pointed.

"The sleeves."

The merchant raised an eyebrow.

"What about them?"

"They’re made to look elegant when standing still."

"...Yes."

She nodded.

"I don’t like standing still."

The merchant stared.

The crowd stared.

Kael stared.

"That is your reasoning?"

"Part of it."

She continued examining the dress.

"If someone dances in this, the sleeves lose their shape."

The merchant’s eyes sharpened.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Because she was right.

The crowd didn’t notice.

Most customers wouldn’t notice.

But a craftsman would.

And the merchant was a craftsman.

The room became quieter.

Not because of drama. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Because people were listening.

The merchant slowly took the dress.

Examined the sleeves.

Then looked back at her.

"You noticed that?"

"I annoyingly notice lots of things."

Kael nodded.

That part was true.

Unfortunately.

The merchant remained silent for several moments.

Then handed her the dress again.

"Show me."

This time it sounded different.

Not a challenge.

A request.

The atmosphere shifted immediately.

The crowd felt it.

Kael felt it.

Even Seraphina felt it.

For the first time—

The merchant wasn’t trying to prove her wrong.

He genuinely wanted to see what she’d do.

Which somehow felt more stressful.

Seraphina moved toward a nearby table.

The wife from the clothing stall stepped forward immediately.

"I’ll help."

The husband followed.

Still looking confused about how his normal workday had transformed into this.

Needles appeared.

Thread appeared.

Cloth appeared.

The crowd gathered closer.

Then closer.

Then even closer.

Kael eventually had to push several people back.

"Personal space exists."

Nobody listened.

A woman actually moved closer.

Traitors.

Seraphina ignored everything around her.

The noise.

The crowd.

The attention.

All of it faded.

The dress sat before her.

And for a brief moment—

A memory surfaced.

Not a full flashback.

Just a feeling.

Late nights.

Scrolling endlessly.

Saving designs.

Sketching ideas nobody would ever see.

Thinking:

Maybe someday.

The feeling disappeared quickly.

Leaving only determination.

Her fingers moved.

Carefully.

No rushing.

Which was probably the strangest thing she’d done all month.

Minutes passed.

Then more.

The crowd grew restless.

Whispers spread.

Predictions.

Arguments.

Doubts.

One old noblewoman finally spoke.

"She looks too young."

A merchant nodded.

"Exactly."

Another joined.

"Maybe yesterday was luck."

Interesting.

The mood was changing.

Not everyone supported her anymore.

Good.

Conflict.

Real conflict.

Much healthier than worship.

Kael noticed something else.

The merchant wasn’t defending her.

He wasn’t helping her.

He wasn’t encouraging her.

He simply watched.

Judging.

Waiting.

Exactly as he should.

Then—

Finally—

Seraphina stepped back.

The dress was finished.

Silence filled the room.

She lifted it carefully.

The changes weren’t dramatic.

No giant redesign.

No flashy transformation.

Small adjustments.

Subtle improvements.

The kind most people wouldn’t notice immediately.

Which became a problem.

The crowd stared.

Then stared some more.

Then one man frowned.

"That’s it?"

Ouch.

A direct hit.

Several people nodded.

They had expected something spectacular.

Something obvious.

Something dramatic.

Instead—

The dress looked mostly the same.

The old noblewoman crossed her arms.

"I preferred the original."

The room stirred.

Agreement spread.

Not everyone.

But enough.

For the first time since discovering fashion—

The crowd wasn’t on Seraphina’s side.

And for one brief second—

Doubt appeared in her eyes.

Tiny.

Almost invisible.

But real.

Kael saw it immediately.

The merchant saw it too.

Then something unexpected happened.

The bride-to-be stepped forward.

"May I try it on?"

Everyone turned.

The merchant nodded slowly.

The woman disappeared behind a divider.

The crowd waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Then she stepped out.

Silence.

A completely different silence.

Not awkward.

Not uncertain.

Surprised.

Because now people could see it.

The movement.

The flow.

The balance.

When she walked, the dress looked alive.

When she turned, the sleeves maintained their shape.

When she moved, the design finally made sense.

The crowd froze.

The old noblewoman froze.

The merchant froze.

The bride herself looked stunned.

Then slowly—

Very slowly—

She smiled.

"I like this one more."

And suddenly—

The argument truly began.

Because half the room immediately agreed.

And the other half absolutely did not.

The inn exploded into debate.

And Seraphina realized something important.

Fashion wasn’t about being right.

Fashion was about making people argue.

Which was, admittedly,

the most villainess profession she had discovered so far.

Far outside the town—

A black crow took flight.

As if carrying the news somewhere.

To someone.

Someone who had been searching for a silver-haired troublemaker for a very long time.

The argument lasted twenty-three minutes.

Nobody counted.

Except Kael.

Because Kael counted everything when chaos appeared.

And chaos had definitely appeared.

"This version is better."

"No, it isn’t."

"It moves better."

"It looks worse."

"It looks elegant."

"It looks strange."

The debate spread across the entire inn.

People started forming groups.

Then those groups started arguing with other groups.

At one point two merchants began drawing diagrams.

Nobody knew why.

Not even them.

The bride-to-be stood in the center.

Looking increasingly overwhelmed.

"I only asked which dress looked nicer."

"You started a war."

Kael informed her.

She looked devastated.

Meanwhile—

Seraphina was watching.

Not speaking.

Watching.

Which was somehow more concerning.

The merchant noticed.

"So?"

She looked at him.

"So?"

"What do you think?"

Seraphina glanced at the arguing crowd.

Then at the dress.

Then at the bride.

Then back at the merchant.

Finally she shrugged.

"I think both sides are right."

Silence.

The merchant blinked.

That answer surprised him.

It surprised Kael too.

The old Seraphina would’ve declared victory immediately.

This one didn’t.

The merchant folded his arms.

"Explain."

"The original dress is beautiful."

The merchant nodded slowly.

"And?"

"The modified version works better for movement."

Another nod.

Seraphina pointed toward the crowd.

"They aren’t arguing about quality."

Everyone looked at her.

"They’re arguing about preference."

That stopped several conversations.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The merchant remained silent.

Then—

For the first time—

He smiled.

A small smile.

But real.

"You understand faster than most professionals."

Seraphina immediately straightened.

"Obviously."

There she was.

Normality restored.

The merchant sighed.

Too soon.

Far too soon.

Then a young noblewoman suddenly pushed through the crowd.

Expensive clothes.

Expensive jewelry.

Expensive attitude.

She looked at Seraphina.

Then the dress.

Then Seraphina again.

Her expression immediately became unpleasant.

"That’s the designer?"

Ah.

One of those.

The room grew quieter.

The noblewoman crossed her arms.

"I expected someone older."

Seraphina smiled.

"I expected someone nicer."

Kael nearly choked.

The merchant looked away.

The bride looked away.

Several customers suddenly became fascinated by nearby walls.

The noblewoman narrowed her eyes.

"My family purchases clothing from the capital."

"Congratulations."

"You don’t seem impressed."

"I am trying very hard."

The merchant coughed suspiciously.

Definitely hiding laughter.

The noblewoman pointed at the modified dress.

"This isn’t fashion."

Interesting.

The crowd immediately reacted.

Not because of the insult.

Because some agreed.

Some disagreed.

Conflict.

Again.

Good.

Stories needed conflict.

Seraphina tilted her head.

"What is fashion then?"

The noblewoman looked confident.

"Fashion is refinement."

"That’s vague."

"It’s elegance."

"Still vague."

"It’s status."

Now Seraphina frowned.

Actually frowned.

Because that answer bothered her.

The noblewoman continued.

"Fashion exists so people know who matters."

The room became quieter.

The merchant’s smile disappeared.

The wife from the stall looked uncomfortable.

Even Kael’s expression changed slightly.

Because that wasn’t fashion.

That was hierarchy.

Seraphina stared at her for several moments.

Then unexpectedly—

She laughed.

Not mockingly.

Genuinely.

The noblewoman looked offended.

"What is funny?"

Seraphina pointed at the crowd.

"The bride."

The woman blinked.

"What about her?"

"She smiled."

The noblewoman frowned.

"So?"

"The merchant."

The merchant raised an eyebrow.

"What about me?"

"You smiled too."

The wife laughed softly.

The husband nodded.

Several customers looked embarrassed.

Because they had smiled as well.

Seraphina folded her arms.

"If clothing only exists for status, why did all of you smile?"

Nobody answered immediately.

Because they couldn’t.

The noblewoman’s confidence cracked slightly.

Only slightly.

But enough.

The merchant looked at Seraphina differently now.

Not as a challenge.

Not as competition.

As someone worth remembering.

Then—

A loud crash echoed outside.

Everyone turned.

A cart had overturned in the street.

Several crates rolled across the road.

People rushed toward the windows.

The argument instantly forgotten.

Humanity remained wonderfully distractible.

Kael stepped closer to the window.

Then froze.

Only for a second.

A very small second.

But Seraphina noticed.

Because she always noticed things involving him.

"What?"

Kael didn’t answer immediately.

Bad sign.

Very bad sign.

He looked outside again.

The overturned cart wasn’t important.

The crowd wasn’t important.

The crates weren’t important.

Someone else was.

Across the street.

Standing beside a building.

Watching the inn.

Watching them.

The figure wore a dark cloak.

Nothing unusual.

Except—

When the figure realized Kael had noticed—

They immediately turned away.

And disappeared into the crowd.

Kael’s instincts tightened.

Not danger.

Not yet.

Recognition.

As though he’d seen something familiar.

Something he couldn’t place.

"Aina."

His voice was quieter than usual.

She immediately became serious.

"What?"

"We’re leaving tomorrow."

She blinked.

"We already planned that."

"No."

He kept watching the street.

"This time I mean it."

That answer made her pause.

Because Kael almost never sounded like that.

The joking disappeared.

The sarcasm disappeared.

Only caution remained.

And suddenly—

The fashion business.

The arguments.

The customers.

The excitement.

All felt a little less important.

Because somewhere beyond the crowd—

Someone was watching.

And unlike the customers—

They weren’t interested in dresses.

They were interested in Seraphina.

And Kael was beginning to suspect that wasn’t a coincidence.