Chapter 33 – Shopping, Struggles, and Dwarven Distractions

It was a Saturday morning, and the sun had barely crept over the rooftops of the academy district when Elara Wyrmshade found herself being shaken awake by an all-too-familiar voice.

"Rise and shine, sleepy princess," Mira cooed, tugging the blankets off Elara with practiced mischief.

Elara groaned and squinted against the sunlight. "Mira, it's the weekend... I was going to sleep in."

"And waste a perfectly good shopping day? I don't think so. Besides, I brought the good brushes. You know, the ones that don't catch every five seconds."

Despite her protest, Elara allowed herself to be pulled into a sitting position. Mira wasted no time brushing out her hair, parting it expertly and starting an intricate braid.

"You should let me style your hair more often," Mira said, half to herself. "You have no idea how unfairly silky it is."

"Unfortunately, I do," Elara muttered. "And I hate that I like it."

Mira grinned. "Admit it—you love the way you look."

Elara rolled her eyes. "I tolerate it."

With her hair done and a casual-yet-flattering outfit selected—a high-waisted skirt, soft blouse, and her current favorite black suede heels—Elara followed Mira through the bustling morning streets toward the high-end shopping district.

The stores were already open and alive with chatter. Mira immediately dragged Elara to her favorite boutique: a gleaming place with enchanted mirrors and a red carpet that made every customer feel like royalty.

"Try these first," Mira said, handing Elara a pair of wine-colored stiletto heels with delicate lace trim.

Elara raised an eyebrow. "A bit much for daywear."

"A bit perfect," Mira countered. "Come on."

Reluctantly, Elara slipped into the heels and took a few cautious steps. She paused.

"...Ugh. These feel incredible."

Mira laughed. "I knew it!"

That set the tone for the next few hours. Mira gleefully dragged Elara from shelf to shelf, piling more and more shoes into her arms—silver pumps with intricate filigree, deep violet stilettos with gemstone-studded heels, sky-high lace-up boots, strappy sandals that shimmered like moonlight, and a pair of absurdly tall pink platform heels that would terrify anyone without Elara's unnatural balance.

To Mira's delight and Elara's internal torment, each step felt not only comfortable but exhilarating. The arch, the balance, the way her legs looked—Elara found herself grinning each time she tried on a new pair. She wasn't just comfortable in heels anymore; she was addicted. She needed more. Needed variety. Needed height.

By the time she finished modeling the fifth pair, she was breathless—not from exertion, but from the sheer thrill of it. She twirled absentmindedly in a mirror, admiring the way her calves looked in the current pair of shimmering blue stilettos.

After the third round of shoes, Mira gave her a sly grin. "So... where do you even keep all of these? I know your dorm isn't exactly the shoe palace."

Elara gave a sheepish look. "Tolan bought a warehouse for storage. I don't know if I'm horrified or impressed."

Mira blinked. "Wait—seriously?"

"Yep. Every Monday morning, someone swaps out the selection in my room so I don't get bored."

Mira burst out laughing. "Oh gods, you are royalty now."

"Don't say that."

They moved on to clothes. Mira, of course, insisted on full makeovers. Elara tried on sleek skirts with blouses, thigh-high boots with hotpants and cropped jackets, dresses with scandalous slits and off-shoulder cuts.

In each outfit, Mira squealed in delight.

"You're a menace, Elara," Mira said, adjusting the collar of a leather-trimmed blouse. "Do you even know how insanely good you look in this stuff?"

Elara, looking at herself in the mirror, sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. I wish I could hate it."

"But you don't," Mira sing-songed.

"Not anymore," Elara admitted. "I still hate that I don't hate it."

Their spree continued through several more boutiques. Some owners recognized Elara, but most simply saw a refined girl with expensive taste. The compliments flowed freely, only reinforcing Elara's confusion about how easily she slipped into this new identity.

It was mid-afternoon when a wave of murmuring washed through the streets.

Elara paused at the next store entrance, ears perking up. "What's going on?"

Mira, standing on her toes to look past the crowd, gasped. "That's... a dwarven caravan!"

Elara's eyes widened. True enough, a line of intricately built wagons rolled through the main avenue, pulled by sturdy rune-powered constructs. Dwarves in layered armor marched alongside them, their beards braided with beads of iron and copper.

The entire street shifted to watch them. Vendors left stalls, nobles peeked from balconies. A group of palace guards even moved to flank the convoy as a courtesy.

Elara folded her arms. "Well. Looks like someone just got a new diplomatic headache."

"The King's probably on his fifth cup of tea by now," Mira snorted.

"Good. Glad it's not my problem."

Still, Elara couldn't help but feel a twinge of anticipation. Dwarves meant metal, ore, rare materials—and potential. She'd have to schedule a visit. Later.

As evening settled, the girls made their way back to the academy. Their arms were full of bags, and Elara was starting to regret the sheer number of purchases.

Back at the dorm, Sylv and Lyria were lounging by the mirror.

"And?" Sylv asked with a mischievous grin.

"She owns half the district now," Mira said proudly.

Lyria clapped. "Show us!"

Elara gave in, modeling several outfits to hoots and whistles. When she stood in a red dress with an open back and matching heels, Sylv gasped.

"Your reflection might sue you for being too gorgeous."

"Don't say that," Elara groaned.

"You do know you look amazing, right?" Lyria added.

Elara looked down at herself. Her posture was perfect. Her face, framed by styled hair and subtle gloss, seemed to glow. Her figure moved with a confidence she didn't remember choosing.

"I know," she whispered. "That's the problem."

And yet, she smiled.