Chapter 297: Pink Shorts, Buried Fox Demons, and the King Who Asked for It
Chapter 297: Pink Shorts, Buried Fox Demons, and the King Who Asked for It
Elyn’s POV
His voice was still lingering in my ear, that deep tenor sending tremors down my spine, when I finally found my own voice.
"Why are you behind me?" I asked, not turning around.
"Because I like being behind you," Zorathys said simply.
I rolled my eyes and jabbed my elbow backward — a sharp, deliberate movement aimed directly at his stomach.
I hit nothing.
Zorathys had already moved, just slightly, just enough that my elbow passed through empty air. His chuckle brushed against my ear, warm and amused.
"You’ll have to try harder than that, Firefly."
I ignored him.
"Pick out everything you want me to try," he said again, his voice softer now, almost patient.
I turned to face him.
He was close — much closer than I had realised. The distance between us was very little. With just a small movement, closing the gap, I could kiss him. His lips were right there. His ruby eyes were looking down at me, half-lidded, patient, waiting.
But I didn’t move. I wasn’t even certain Zorathys was as interested in me as I was beginning to be in him.
"You’re not going to complain that you’re too tired, right?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Because I don’t want to hear it. Not after you agreed to this."
Zorathys tilted his head slightly, his earrings swaying.
"I’m already tired," he said.
I knew it.
"But I’m doing this because it’s you." His voice was quiet, almost casual, like he was stating something obvious. "And I’m willing to do it because it’s you."
I stared at him.
"That’s the same thing," I said finally.
He shrugged.
"I don’t care."
The distance between us felt smaller now. Smaller than it had been a moment ago, though neither of us had moved.
Or maybe we had.
Maybe I had leaned in without realising it.
Maybe he had.
I turned back to the racks.
"Alright," I said, my voice slightly too bright. "You asked for it."
He didn’t say anything in reply.
I ignored his presence behind me as I made myself focus on the clothes, on the fabrics, on the colours. I reached for the first thing that caught my eye — a light pink shirt, soft and flowing, the kind of thing I had never seen Zorathys wear. He always wore dark colours. But I wanted to see him in something different.
I held it up.
Then I found shorts to go with it.
Light pink shorts.
I chuckled as I picked them up, and Velvetta appeared at my side immediately, her hands extended to receive the clothes. Behind her, two other fox demons stood ready, and I continued picking clothes.
The pile grew.
A deep burgundy lounge gown, soft and flowing and impossibly elegant. It was technically for lounging, but on Zorathys, it would look like royalty.
A pair of trousers with long sleeves attached — a strange design, but the fabric was beautiful, deep blue with red threading that matched the ruby in his earrings.
A shirt with short sleeves, loose and casual, the kind of thing someone might wear on a summer evening.
A chest-open shirt — the front cut low, held together by thin ties that would reveal part of his chest if the ties loosened. I stared at it for a moment, imagining how it would look on him, and then added it to the pile without comment.
Another backless design — this one even more daring than the first, the opening larger, the embroidery more intricate. The silver patterns traced down his spine like falling stars.
Trousers that flared at the bottom, dramatic and elegant.
Clothes that hugged. Clothes that flowed. Clothes that I didn’t even have names for but knew, somehow, that they would look devastating on him.
I picked and picked and picked.
I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t stop.
Every time I reached for something, I imagined him wearing it. Every time I handed a garment to Velvetta, I pictured his face — his half-lidded eyes, his lazy smile — and when I finally turned around, my eyes widened in shock.
The fox demons were buried beneath the mountain of clothes.
Velvetta stood at the front of the group, her four tails barely visible beneath the mountain of clothes in her arms. Behind her, two attendants had stacks so high I couldn’t see their faces.
I had picked too much.
Way too much.
The pile of clothes looked like it could dress an entire army. Or maybe an entire kingdom. Or maybe just one demon king who had made the mistake of telling me to pick out everything I wanted him to try.
I turned to Zorathys and noticed he was staring at the clothes.
His expression was... unreadable.
His shadows had gone quiet around him, like they were too overwhelmed to move.
"You don’t have to try all of it," I said quickly. "I got carried away. We can save some for another time—"
He gave a resigned sigh, interrupting me.
"No," he said. "I said I would do what you want. I’ll try them."
My heart did something complicated in my chest.
"All of them?" I asked.
"All of them."
"Zorathys, that’s—"
"I know what it is, Firefly." He glanced at me. "Don’t worry."
His shadows moved then.
They flowed across the room like a dark tide, wrapping around the piles of clothes, lifting them carefully.
The fox demons sagged with relief as the weight was taken from their arms.
Velvetta stepped back, smoothing her robes, her tails swaying in obvious gratitude.
The shadows carried the clothes toward the dressing room.
Zorathys watched them for a moment, then turned back to me.
"Sit down," he said.
I blinked, but before I could reply, his shadows wrapped around me and placed me down on a cushion.
"Sit your pretty self down, Firefly, and wait for me. You wanted a show, I’ll give you one."
He told me.
I could not argue with that.
Zorathys’s lips curved into a small smile.
Then he turned and walked toward the dressing room.
The room fell into silence, and then within five minutes, the dressing room opened and Zorathys walked out and oh my days... what was going on?