My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Ria was never one for keeping things simple. Every sentence that came out of her always hid another way it could be conveyed, usually veiled behind a thick layer of sarcasm.

Give a person a few minutes, and they'll come to learn quick that conversations with her were essentially just a vocalized rendition of tic-tac-toe, and most of the time, they'll find themselves attaining more losses than they do wins… provided Ria was on her A-game.

For some reason, I don't think that was the case here. So quick to stifle the conversation shut, didn't even do a roundabout to throw it back in my face somehow - no attempt of evasion was as brazen as this one. She wanted the discussion dropped fast.

How did I know?

Well if the five sets of apparels left unworn by the benchside weren't proof enough, then there was also the added bonus that Adalia was attempting to hide away such incriminating evidence by the wayside, and by wayside I meant she just slid them right behind herself.

Subtle, Adalia, subtle.

Still, even Adalia could sense something was amiss, if anything, she could read the air like no one else and if the air could indeed speak, they would tell me that Ria wanted out.

Very generous of her to aid Ria in that aspect.

Seems even the bold and brash have some things she would rather not talk about.

Noted, clear and loud.

"You paying or am I?" I asked, hauling out a big bundle of bills from my pant pocket.

Ria raised her hands up in front of her. "Your money now, remember?"

"Ah yes… you know, I never did thank you, did I?"

"You're welcome," She flashed a smile. "Now go on and make the clerk an offer he can't refuse."

It took quite a bit to sort out the mess that was the pile of trial and tested clothes to the side, but eventually, we got it all sorted out quite nicely with a little help from the store assistants.

Ria insisted on me keeping on the newly acquired clothes I had on then. Said I should get as comfortable as I can get with them. For the sake of not starting up a futile argument where I would inevitably end up losing and she gloating, I consented with her request.

What I did not consent to, however, was the vile act of chemical warfare Ria was doing on my sense of smell.

She sprayed another dosage - another heavy dosage of the dreaded stench of perfume sprinkled onto every inch of me.

"Now it smells like you too," was the reasoning to justify such heinous torture

Something tells me that argument wouldn't hold up in court.

Couldn't even be bothered by then to even put up a fight. Moving on, moving on - the end was nigh upon us, and boy, did I yearn for that end… I needed a long hot shower after everything.

Haven't reached that end yet though, unfortunate to say… we still had a piper that needed paying.

The total amount amassed in the name of fashion soared up to the triple digits. Seriously, I thought the cash register was bugged when I saw the price, it took a few affirmations from the clerk to finally accept the notion that the two mythical beings on either side of me just had really expensive taste.

I can only imagine what a dinner at a restaurant would entail, financially speaking. Pretty sure even Jeff Bezos would raise an eyebrow at that bill.

Regardless though, I paid in full, and when the clerk asked whether it'd be in card or cash, I let the resounding echo of the stack of bills slamming against the countertop answer for me.

Wasn't intentionally flexing on him, I just didn't have any other place to put the money on. Despite my heritage, I wasn't born with three hands, after all. Don't think it was a perk in either Mom or Dad's genetic pool, so sadly I have to make do with just two.

"Five fifty-one… five fifty-two… Alright five-five-three and fifty cents," I proclaimed, smiling like all was right in the world.

The cashier with his dubious gaze, luckily spoke no questions, and promptly ringed us up, bagged everything else, and bid us a happy afternoon as we strolled away to the outside world once more.

By the way, that everything else that was bagged? Apparently, while I was busy playing model, Ria, with a bit of aid from her pale friend, picked up a few selections for Ash too.

Selections that, as it turns out, I couldn't get privy with, just as my curiosity went peeking into the bag, Ria swiped it away from view like a paranoid detective holding some vital document for a conspiracy.

"There's a saying," Ria said, glancing at me like I just committed the biggest taboo in mankind's history. "The groom doesn't get to peek on the wedding dress until his bride-to-be is wearing it in all its glory."

So glad we weren't walking across the street just then, because hearing that made me freeze up on the spot in sheer disbelief.

"Well, didn't know you already had me engaged," I said, slowly recovering. "Who the hell am I practicing my 'I do's' to?"

"Silly questions deserve silly answers. Do you want a silly answer?"

I sighed. "Ash is just a friend."

"Sure," Ria nodded. "In the same way that chickens are actually just dinosaurs, yeah I guess so."

"You're losing me with your metaphors now…"

A red light in a crosswalk had Ria turning a glance my way.

"Face it, Romeo, you practically killed yourself saving your Juliet and she in return could have killed herself saving you. I mean, just what is the ultimate profession of love if not having to kill yourselves over one another?"

The light turned green and we began to cross.

"You're scaring me, love detective, you really are," I muttered. "Hope this date of yours doesn't involve either one of us going on a trial to test how much we love each other or something."

"Ooo, idea!"

"Shit."