[13] Hungry Eyes

Cyrus adjusted his grip on the mountain of bags and boxes threatening to spill onto Orario's cobblestone streets. The sun had begun its descent, painting the white marble buildings in shades of amber. Street vendors called out their final sales of the day while adventurers trudged back from the dungeon, their pouches heavy with valis.

"¡Mira! One more shop!" Quet pointed to a storefront adorned with gleaming weapons.

"No." Cyrus shifted another precarious package higher in his arms. The silk of his new shirt caught the light.

"But mi sol-"

"My arms have filed a formal protest." He nodded toward the teetering tower of boxes. "And my wallet's funeral was about an hour ago. Very sad affair. Few attended."

Quet's emerald eyes sparkled as she stepped closer, reaching up to straighten an imaginary wrinkle in his collar. "Such dramatics. We've barely started."

"Three clothing shops say otherwise."

"Necessities." Her fingers lingered at his throat, adjusting the beads she'd insisted on.

"A jeweler."

"Important accessories." She tilted her head, golden hair catching the light.

"Two shoe stores."

"A warrior needs options." Her smile widened. "And you look magnificent in boots."

"And somehow a pottery shop."

"Those vases spoke to me." She patted the topmost box, her touch gentler than her usual exuberance suggested. "They were lonely."

"They'll have plenty of company in our empty vault."

"Valis flows like water, mi sol." She spun in a graceful circle. "It comes and goes."

"Mostly goes, in our case." The boxes shifted dangerously as he readjusted his grip.

"Such pessimism!" She clapped her hands together, the sound drawing attention from passing merchants. "But you're right, we should head home. These need proper places in your wardrobe."

"Our three wardrobes weren't enough?"

"Four now." Her smile turned brilliant. "The delivery men should have installed the new one by now."

Cyrus nearly lost his grip on a particularly precarious bag. "When did you-"

"This morning, of course." She waved a hand as if conjuring furniture was perfectly normal. "I had to make room for everything."

"Of course you did."

A group of female adventurers passed, their eyes lingering on Cyrus despite - or perhaps because of - his package-laden state. Several whispered behind raised hands. Quet's smile sharpened, gaining an edge that had nothing to do with shopping.

"Although..." She tapped her chin, emerald eyes tracking the women's progress. "Perhaps we should look at one more shop. That weapon store has such lovely displays."

"My arms have progressed from protest to outright rebellion."

"Practical." She straightened his emerald collar again, positioning herself between him and the passing adventurers. "A goddess must protect her investments."

"With jewelry?"

"With style." Her fingers smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from his shirt, her touch possessive. "Though perhaps you're right about the shopping. We wouldn't want to tire you out before tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" He raised an eyebrow at her suddenly innocent expression.

"Mhm." Her smile turned secretive. "But first, take these home and make sure everything is properly stored. I have some business to attend to."

"Business?"

"Divine matters." She patted his cheek, her touch lingering. "Nothing for my precious child to worry about."

"That's exactly the kind of vague statement that causes worry."

She laughed, the sound drawing more attention from passersby. Several men walked into each other, too busy staring to watch their path. "Smart boy. But unnecessary. I simply need to speak with some old friends about new opportunities."

"That clarified nothing and added several new concerns."

"Trust your goddess." She began backing away, still smiling. "I'll return before moonrise."

"Quet-"

"¡Hasta luego, mi sol!" She blew him a kiss and disappeared into the crowd with the fluid grace only a goddess could manage.

Cyrus stared after her, arms straining under his fashion burden. "That woman..."

The walk home proved interesting with his limited visibility. He nearly collided with three different people, two carts, and what might have been a minotaur. The last one seemed unlikely in the middle of Orario, but he couldn't see past the boxes to confirm. The cobblestones didn't help, each uneven surface threatening to send the entire tower tumbling.

He kicked open their front door, boxes swaying dangerously. "This is ridiculous."

The new wardrobe dominated their bedroom wall, its polished surface gleaming in the late afternoon light. Dark wood with gold accents - exactly Quet's style. He dumped the packages onto their bed, rolling his shoulders against the lingering ache.

"Four wardrobes." He shook his head at the massive piece of furniture. "For two people."

The boxes refused to sort themselves, no matter how long he stared. With a sigh, he began the process of finding homes for Quet's "necessities." Each item had specific requirements - this shirt needed cedar hangers, those pants required precise folding techniques, these accessories demanded specialized drawers.

An hour later, he slumped against the wardrobe. "She's going to rearrange everything anyway."

His reflection caught his eye in the wardrobe's mirror. The new clothes did look good, even he had to admit that. The emerald beads at his throat matched Quet's eyes perfectly. Subtle as a hammer, he thought.

The setting sun reminded him of more practical matters. He needed supplies before tomorrow's dungeon run, whatever Quet had planned. The Blue Pharmacy would still be open.

"At least my wallet might survive that trip," he muttered, heading for the door. "Might even get a discount if I ask nice enough."

The streets had quieted somewhat, though plenty of adventurers still made their way home from the dungeon. Several called out greetings as he passed. He returned them with nods, noting the various states of their equipment. Good hunting day, from the looks of it.

The pharmacy's bell chimed. Cyrus breathed in the familiar blend of herbs and alchemical reagents, each step silent on the worn wooden floor. Late afternoon sun painted the shelves of bottles in amber hues, their contents casting tiny rainbows across the polished counter.

Tessia looked up from her ledger, quill pausing mid-stroke. Her golden hair caught the light like spun silk, framing features that reminded him why elves were considered the most beautiful race. A few strands had escaped her careful braid, curling against her neck. The fitted blue apprentice robes highlighted curves that defied the typical elven build, cinched at the waist with a silver cord bearing Miach's emblem.

"Welcome to the Blue-" Recognition sparked in her turquoise eyes. "Oh! You actually came!"

"Said I would, didn't I?" Cyrus approached the counter, cataloging the items on the shelves. "Your potions pack quite a punch. Saved me from some nasty scratches yesterday."

Her fingers toyed with the quill's feather, the movement drawing attention to delicate hands stained with alchemical residue - a craftsman's badge of honor. "What kind of supplies did you need? We just finished a fresh batch of healing potions."

"The basics for now - health, mana, the usual suspects." He gestured at the rows of bottles. "But I'm curious what else you've got hidden away."

Pink touched her pointed ears. "Let me show you!" She practically bounded around the counter, nearly upending a stack of inventory forms. Her robes swished against the floor as she moved between shelves. "We have different potencies available for various situations."

Her hands darted between bottles. "These red ones are our standard healing potions - perfect for cuts, bruises, anything that won't kill you immediately. The blue one boosts mind recovery. And the purple-" She caught his amused look and stopped short. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"Don't stop on my account." Cyrus leaned against the counter, watching how she seemed to glow when discussing her craft. "Information's worth its weight in valis in this city."

Pride straightened her spine, adding an inch to her height. "I make most of these myself now. Lord Miach teaches me the formulas, but the actual brewing..." She lifted her chin, confidence replacing her earlier shyness. "That's where art meets science."

"Time well spent then." His eyes tracked her movements, noting how she'd erased all traces of that poison's effects. No hesitation in her steps, no lingering weakness. "Your hands know their work."

"Yes, though there's always more to learn." Her fingers traced the shelf edge in an unconscious gesture. "Lord Miach knows hundreds of recipes. Some take years just to understand the theory behind them."

"Tell me about the theory." He shifted, giving her his full attention. "Five days in Orario means everything's valuable intel."

She brightened visibly, shoulders squaring as she slipped into lecture mode. "Perfect! Then you'll definitely want to know about dungeon-specific potions. Different monsters have unique effects that require specialized countermeasures."

"Like what those bandits used?"

Her hand pressed against her side, where the wound had been. The movement pulled her robes tighter. "You... remember that?"

"Hard to forget carrying someone while they turn interesting colors. Five miles feels longer with purple spreading up someone's neck."

She looked away, cheeks darkening to match the healing potions. "That was... not my finest moment."

"Three bandits against one potion-maker?" He shook his head. "Those odds would give anyone trouble."

"No, but I should've been more careful. More aware." Her voice dropped, shoulders curling inward. "Haven't left the city since then."

"For ingredients?"

"For anything." False cheer strained her tone. "Plenty to do here in the shop."

"But you're still an adventurer."

"Barely." The word escaped like a confession. "Level one, never been past floor three. I know I need to go deeper, but..."

"What's stopping you?"

She met his eyes briefly before studying her hands. "It's foolish."

"Try me."

"I keep thinking about..." She drew a shaky breath, fingers twisting in her robes. "What if something worse happens? Naaza can't come with me, not since her arm, and alone..."

"Partner up."

Her head snapped up, hair fanning out like a golden curtain. "What?"

"I need reliable potions." He straightened, rolling his shoulders. "You need backup in the dungeon. Simple logistics."

"You'd..." Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "You'd really do that?"

"Makes tactical sense. Save valis on supplies, gain an experienced potion-maker's knowledge." His amber eyes held her turquoise ones. "Unless you're not interested."

"Yes!" She caught herself, smoothing her robes with trembling hands. "I mean, I'd like that. If you're certain."

"Wouldn't offer if I wasn't." He glanced at the setting sun painting the windows gold. "Tomorrow afternoon work for you? Got business in the morning first."

"Tomorrow!" She nodded eagerly, loose strands of hair bouncing. "I'll prepare everything tonight."

"Start small." His voice gentled. "We'll build from there."

"Of course." She clasped her hands together to still their shaking. "Meet here?"

"Works for me." He tapped the counter. "For now though, about those supplies..."

"Ah, yes!" She hurried behind the counter, professional mask slipping back into place though her eyes still shone. "Let me get you our adventurer's package. Twenty-five percent discount, naturally."

"Buying loyalty with discounts?"

Pink touched her ears again. "Is it working?"

"We'll find out tomorrow, won't we?"

She wrapped each bottle with practiced care, movements precise despite her obvious excitement. Their fingers brushed during the exchange, causing her blush to deepen and spread down her neck.

"Thank you for shopping with us." Her formal tone cracked. "And for... you know."

"Tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow."

The bell chimed his exit. Through the window, he caught a glimpse of Tessia touching her fingers where they'd brushed his, a small smile playing on lips that could launch wars. The setting sun painted her in shades of gold, turning her hair to living flame.

He tucked the package under one arm, mind already mapping out tomorrow's expedition. Floor three wasn't much of a challenge, but it would let him gauge her abilities without pushing too far too fast. Better to start slow and build confidence than rush and risk setbacks.

The streets had begun to empty as the sun sank lower, though plenty of adventurers still made their way home from the dungeon. Several called out greetings as he passed. He returned them with nods, noting the various states of their equipment. Good hunting day, from the looks of it.

His thoughts drifted back to the pharmacy. Tessia's enthusiasm for her craft was infectious, her knowledge impressive for someone so young. And those eyes... turquoise wasn't quite right. More like the heart of a glacier touched by sunlight, with depths that could drown the unwary.

Focus, he chided himself. Tomorrow was about building an alliance, nothing more. Still, he couldn't help but remember how she'd felt in his arms during that desperate run to the city, even with poison turning her veins purple. Light as a feather, yet solid enough to be real.

The memory of her smile followed him home, bright as the setting sun.