Chapter 285: The Best Room, A Forgotten Fox, and the Disguise That Fooled Everyone
Chapter 285: The Best Room, A Forgotten Fox, and the Disguise That Fooled Everyone
Elyn’s POV
I hummed softly, still taking in the sheer scale of the place — the carved beams, the painted lanterns, the foxes watching from every surface — when a fox demon approached us.
She moved with the same quiet grace as the others, her footsteps barely audible against the woven mats. Her fur was a striking shade of deep purple, rich and velvety, like twilight had decided to take physical form. It covered her ears, her forearms, and the four tails that swayed gently behind her — each one a slightly different shade, from lavender at the tips to deep amethyst at the base.
Her eyes were the colour of honey, warm and sharp at the same time, and her hair was dark — almost black — pulled back from her face in an elegant arrangement held by silver pins shaped like tiny foxes.
She wore the same deep red robe as the other staff, but hers had silver threading along the collar and cuffs, marking her as someone with authority.
She stopped before us and bowed deeply.
"Welcome to the Silver Fox Pavilion," she said, her voice smooth and polished. "I am Velvetta. How may I assist you today?"
Zayrion stepped forward immediately, his glasses catching the light.
"We’ll take the best room you have," he said.
Velvetta blinked.
Her ears twitched once then again.
Then she straightened, her expression shifting into something carefully apologetic.
"I am afraid that is not possible," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "The best room is reserved for guests of the duchess or duke. Or, of course, for members of the royal family." She offered a small, polite smile. "I can offer you our finest available suite, but the Celestial Chamber, which is our best room, is not accessible to general customers."
Zayrion’s frown deepened.
"The duchess is my mother," he said simply.
Velvetta stared at him.
Her honey-coloured eyes moved across his face. She studied him carefully then she shook her head.
"I know the duchess’s son," she said. "I have seen the young master many times when he visits with Lady Aurelixa. And..." she paused, tilting her head, "he looks nothing like you."
Zayrion’s ears flattened slightly.
"I am standing right here," he said.
"You are standing somewhere," Velvetta agreed politely. "But you are not the young master."
Zorathys chuckled.
It was a low, lazy sound, the kind that suggested he was enjoying this far more than he should.
"It seems," he drawled, gaze on Zayrion, "that you may not be able to get us VIP seats after all."
Zayrion’s tails flicked with irritation.
I sighed.
"Zorathys," I said, turning to him, "stop messing with the child and remove the disguise you cast on us."
He stared at me.
His ruby eyes held mine for a long moment, clearly debating whether he could argue his way out of this.
Then he sighed as dramatically as he normally did.
His eyes rolled skyward like he was asking the ceiling to bear witness to his suffering.
But he did it, and the veil was lifted, but only on Zayrion.
Velvetta blinked.
Then she blinked again.
Her ears shot straight up.
Her tails flared behind her in obvious shock.
"Oh," she breathed.
She looked at Zayrion.
"Young Master," she said, and her voice had completely changed — all the polished formality replaced by genuine embarrassment. "I... please accept my deepest apologies. I did not recognize you."
Zayrion’s ears lifted slightly.
"It’s not a worry," he said, and there was a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"No, no," Velvetta insisted, bowing again, lower this time, her forehead nearly touching the backs of her hands. "I should have known. I should have seen past the —" She gestured vaguely at the air where the disguise had been. "Please forgive my rudeness."
"You weren’t rude," Zayrion said. "You were just doing your job."
Velvetta straightened, looking relieved.
"Thank you, Young Master." Her gaze moved to the rest of us. "Please. Allow me to escort you to the Celestial Chamber."
She turned and began walking toward the back of the store.
Zayrion fell into step behind her, his tails high.
I glanced at Zorathys as we followed.
"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" I murmured.
He said nothing.
But his shadows curled around his feet in a way that suggested he was sulking.
Velvetta led us past the main floor, past the sliding doors painted with foxes, past a hallway lined with more lanterns, until we reached a staircase.
The stairs were made of that same dark wood, polished to a gleam, and the walls beside them were covered in paintings — foxes in various seasons, foxes in various moods, foxes in various stages of mischief. One painting showed a fox stealing a hat from a sleeping demon. Another showed a fox lounging on a pile of cushions while servants fanned it with large leaves.
The children stared at them as we climbed.
"That one is funny," Azerion said, pointing at the hat-stealing fox. "Reminds me of the raven."
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me. If Rin had been here, Azerion wouldn’t live to say his next words.
When we reached the top of the stairs, Velvetta stopped before a set of doors.
They were massive. Taller than any door I had seen in the store so far and carved from that same dark wood with gold veins. But the carving on these doors was different.
Two foxes faced each other, their bodies forming a mirror image. Their tails intertwined in the center, creating a pattern that looked like a knot.
"These are the Guardian Foxes," Velvetta said softly. "They have protected this room for over a thousand years."
As she spoke, the foxes’ eyes flared with white light.
Then, slowly, the doors slid open to the sides, disappearing into the walls like they had never been there at all.
The room beyond was breathtaking.
It was larger than I had expected.
VIP indeed.
The ceiling was high, supported by wooden beams carved with the same intricate patterns, but here the foxes were larger, more detailed, their fur painted in gold and silver that caught the light.
Paper lanterns hung in clusters, their soft glow warm and golden. Some were shaped like full moons, others like crescent moons, and a few were shaped like foxes mid-leap.
The walls were paneled in that dark wood with gold veins, but here, the veins were thicker, more deliberate, forming patterns that looked like waves or wind or perhaps something else entirely.
Woven mats covered the floor, softer than the ones downstairs, thicker, their edges bound in gold thread. Cushions were scattered across them in inviting clusters, each one made of silk in shades of deep red, rich plum, and soft gold.
A low table sat at the center of the room, carved from a single piece of wood that gleamed like amber. A small vase sat at its center, holding a single branch of white flowers that seemed to glow faintly.
Against one wall, a row of sliding doors led to what I assumed were dressing rooms. Their panels were painted with more foxes, these ones in more intimate poses: sleeping, grooming, nursing their young.
And along the other wall, rows and rows of clothes.