Chapter 286: Silk, Snacks, and the King Who Found a Corner
Chapter 286: Silk, Snacks, and the King Who Found a Corner
Elyn’s POV
The clothes were even more than I had ever seen in my previous life — more than the department stores back in my previous life, more than anything I could have imagined.
Racks upon racks lined the walls, organized not by colour or size but by something else entirely — fabric weight, perhaps, or season, or maybe just the chaotic logic of foxes. Silks shimmered in shades I didn’t have names for. Velvets pooled like liquid. Brocades gleamed with threaded gold and silver that caught the lantern light and scattered it across the room like tiny stars.
Velira gasped.
Then she ran.
Her small feet barely touched the woven mats as she darted toward the nearest rack, her purple wings fluttering with excitement. Thalira was right behind her, light blue hair streaming, her pale gown whispering against the floor as she moved.
"Don’t destroy anything!" I called after them.
Whether they heard me or not, I couldn’t say. Neither slowed down.
The doors opened then — sliding apart with that same quiet ease — and fox demons poured in.
They moved with the same measured grace as Velvetta, their footsteps soft, their expressions pleasant. Most had four or five tails, ranging in colour from deep amber to pale cream to rust red. Their ears twitched as they entered, taking in the room, assessing where everything should go.
There were six of them.
Three carried trays — large, lacquered trays piled high with snacks and drinks. The snacks were arranged in careful spirals and towers, some glazed and gleaming, others dusted with powders that sparkled faintly. Tiny cups clustered together, their contents shimmering in shades of pink, gold, and deep berry.
Azerion’s eyes lit up.
I watched him track the trays across the room, his small body tensing like a predator about to pounce.
I cleared my throat.
He froze.
Then he looked at me with an expression of pure innocence that fooled absolutely no one.
"Behave," I told him.
He nodded once, very seriously.
Then he immediately began walking toward the fox demon who was setting the trays down on a low table near the window.
I sighed.
The other three fox demons approached me, their heads bowed.
"We are here to assist you with anything you request," one of them said. She had five tails, cream in colour, and her voice was warm. "Garments, accessories, measurements — whatever you need, simply tell us."
"Thank you," I said.
Velira appeared at my elbow, bouncing on her heels.
"I want to try on some clothes," she said happily. Then she grabbed my sleeve and tugged. "Can we? Please? There’s a gown I want to try and even one for you too."
I opened my mouth to answer, then paused.
I turned, scanning the room for one demon who was now awfully quiet.
Zorathys was not where I expected him to be.
I looked again.
Then I spotted him.
He had made a safe space for himself in the corner, the corner farthest from everything, behind a tall screen painted with foxes chasing moons. One wouldn’t even notice him if they weren’t looking. His shadows had coiled around him, dark and soft, forming a cocoon that blended into the dim light.
And I knew without even being told that Zorathys was sleeping.
While surrounded by children.
While I stood here trying to figure out what to do.
I sighed, then I turned back to Velira.
"You can try on clothes," I said. "But calm down first. Let everyone get settled."
Velira nodded, still bouncing, but she stayed where she was.
I looked around the room, taking stock of where everyone had scattered.
Azerion had reached the snacks table.
He was talking to one of the fox demons — his mouth full as he did so, crumbs escaping onto his chin. The fox demon was nodding politely, her expression a careful mask of professionalism, but I could see the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth.
As I watched, Azerion’s hand slid casually toward a small snack on the edge of the tray.
Then another.
Then another.
He was sneaking them into his pockets.
Brixton was standing near a rack of dresses.
Not the children’s section but the adult section. He was examining a long gown made of deep blue silk, his head tilted, his expression thoughtful. His ears were slightly red, but he didn’t look away from the fabric. His fingers hovered near the sleeve, not quite touching, like he was afraid he might damage it.
Aziren was looking around the room, his amber eyes moving slowly from face to face. His flames were low and calm, barely flickering. He seemed to be searching for something — or someone.
Zorathys, probably.
Zayrion was...
I squinted.
He was near the corner opposite Zorathys. He had a small cloth in his hand — where he had gotten it, I had no idea — and he appeared to be wiping down the woven mats, like he was trying to remove a stain that only he could see.
Retheris was playing with a small bubble.
It was floating near the ceiling, translucent and shimmering, catching the light in rainbow fragments. He was staring up at it, his hands raised, clearly trying to pull it closer with his magic.
Thalira had abandoned the clothes rack and was now standing beside him, her arms crossed, her expression stern.
"Don’t," she was saying. "Retheris, don’t."
"I’m not doing anything," he said.
"Don’t use your powers here."
"Shut up, nothing is going to happen."
I watched them for a moment, then looked up at the ceiling, then back at the children scattered across the room.
I sighed.
Then I clapped my hands.
Once.
The sound cut through the room, and every child froze.
I didn’t know I had this much authority over them. Quite shocking.
"Gather up," I said.
And like they had all just received a command, like someone had flipped a switch, they rushed toward me.
They gathered around me in a loose circle, their eyes bright, their expressions expectant.
I looked down at them.
I took a breath.
And then I asked them the question that would determine how this part of the trip would go:
"What do you want to do?"