Chapter 177: Beautiful (2)
Anya didn't blink.
She stared at the kneeling woman with her face locked in indifference. "This entity is behaving erratically and my target assessment is unstable."
"I have the perfect clothes for this little girl!" Madame Vesper shrieked, completely ignoring Anya's robotic dialogue.
Before Anya could even process the threat, the large woman reached out with both hands, snatching the little Shinigami up by the waist and hoisting her into the air like a prized trophy.
"We are going to do a full fitting! Frills! Lace! Tiny winter boots with fluff! Little ribbon hats!" the owner babbled maniacally, spinning around and practically sprinting toward the dressing rooms in the back of the shop, carrying the six-year-old away.
For one of the first times since Klaus had met her, Anya's clinical composure completely shattered.
As she was carried away into the depths of the frilly, lace-filled dressing rooms, Anya looked back over the woman's shoulder toward Klaus.
Her purple eyes widened in a rare display of genuine childish annoyance, and she reached her small hand out toward him.
"Papaaaaa~!" Anya dragged out the word, her melodic voice whining with actual adorable distress.
Klaus stood in the center of the shop, staring at the little Shinigami being swallowed by the racks of flamboyant dresses.
He didn't step forward to save her.
Instead, Klaus threw his head back and let out a deep laugh that echoed warmly throughout the entire boutique.
"Have fun." Klaus chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "You're on your own for this one."
He shoved his hands into his pockets, still smiling broadly, as he, Mirela, and Tasha followed the enthusiastic shop owner deeper into the colorful store.
…
The interior of Madame Vesper's Garments & Threads was a sensory-overloading explosion of color and magic.
It stood in stark, almost absurd contrast to the rugged snow-covered, blood-stained reality of the outpost town just beyond its heavy wooden doors.
The air inside smelled of crushed lavender, enchanted fabric softener, and warm incense.
Floating crystal orbs drifted lazily near the high ceiling, casting a warm golden illumination over endless racks of heavy winter furs, shimmering magical silks, and polished leather armor.
Klaus stood near the front counter, his muscled frame completely out of place among the delicate mannequins and frilly displays.
He crossed his broad arms over his dark shirt, leaning his back against a polished mahogany pillar.
His newly trimmed shoulder-length silver hair caught the light of the floating crystals, making him look like a descending sovereign waiting patiently in a mortal's shop.
On his left shoulder, the tiny Lightning Fairy, Sparky, materialized with a soft bzzt, sitting cross-legged with her arms folded over her woven tunic.
On his right shoulder, Valeria, the miniature Crimson Sharpshooter, faded into view, resting the barrel of her tiny sniper rifle against her collarbone.
"This place is excessively bright," Sparky complained, her glowing blue eyes squinting at a rack of neon-pink winter coats. "And it smells like crushed flowers. It lacks the sharp crisp scent of atmospheric ozone."
"You lack the refinement to appreciate high society aesthetics, spark-bug," Valeria shot back smoothly, a smug smirk on her ethereal face. "The King requires his retinue to be dressed in a manner befitting his divine station. You wouldn't understand, considering you wear a potato sack…"
"IT'S A WOVEN TUNIC!" Sparky shrieked, her spiky yellow hair bristling with high-voltage static. "I'll fry your ectoplasm right now!"
Klaus let out a low amused sigh, ignoring the bickering on his shoulders.
His glowing silver eyes were fixed on the row of velvet-curtained dressing rooms at the back of the massive boutique.
"Master!"
The velvet curtain of the first dressing room was pulled back, and Mirela stepped out onto the showroom floor.
Klaus's eyes naturally drifted toward her, and an appreciative smirk touched his lips.
Mirela had selected a brand-new magical maid uniform, completely replacing her torn, road-worn clothes.
The dress was crafted from deep navy-blue, enchanted arachnid-silk, lined with subtle silver runes along the hem that automatically regulated thermal temperature.
The bodice hugged her generous, flawless curves tightly, while the skirt flared out just enough to allow maximum mobility in combat.
A pristine white ruffled apron was tied securely around her waist, and a pair of sleek black thigh-high boots completed the look.
Her dark goat tail swayed contentedly behind her, completely unhindered by the expertly tailored fabric.
She did a small graceful twirl, her eyes shining with pride as she looked at him. "How do I look, Master?"
"Perfect," Klaus drawled smoothly, giving a firm nod of approval. "It suits you. The lining means you won't freeze when it's snowing without the ring."
Mirela flushed a brilliant happy pink, her goat ears twitching with delight.
She clasped her hands together, walking over to stand proudly by his side. "Thank you, Master! I made sure the fabric is reinforced against slashing attacks as well."
Inside the second dressing room, Tasha Morningstar heard the deep sound of Klaus's praise.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Tasha bit her lower lip with her heart hammering wildly against her ribs.
She was currently wearing the oversized white singlet that belonged to him, but scattered across the dressing room bench were dozens of outfits Madame Vesper's assistants had aggressively shoved into her arms.
'He complimented Mirela without hesitating…' Tasha thought with her hands clenching into small fists. 'I... I need to show him I can look just as good. No, I need to look breathtaking.'
Tasha's mind was a chaotic swirling mess of grief, survival instincts, and a massive overwhelming crush on the silver-haired god waiting outside.
Her Father was dead… Her noble estate was bankrupted… She had nothing left to her name except her father's sword and the infant lightning spirit currently buzzing cheerfully beside her ear.
Klaus had saved her life, fed her, trained her, and given her the power to fight back.
She wanted to be useful to him.
But more than that, looking at his impossibly handsome face and broad, divine physique, she desperately wanted him to look at her the way a man looks at a woman.
She wanted to make his breath hitch.
Tasha took a deep breath, her light blue eyes hardening with fierce feminine determination.
'I will…'
She tossed the oversized singlet aside and reached for the boldest an most alluring combat outfit on the bench.
Ten minutes later, the velvet curtain of the second dressing room slowly slid open.
Tasha stepped out into the warm golden light of the shop.
She had chosen an outfit that perfectly blended magical defense with undeniable allure.
She wore a sleek midnight-blue combat corset forged from flexible, enchanted wyvern leather that cinched her waist tightly, aggressively pushing up her modest but firm cleavage.
Below, she wore tight form-fitting black leather leggings that hugged the athletic tone of her thighs and hips, paired with knee-high, fur-lined combat boots.
A stylish silver-clasped half-cape was draped over her right shoulder, giving her a regal noble flair.
Her light-blue hair fell perfectly around her face, framing her flushed, pale cheeks.
Her infant lightning spirit hovered near her shoulder, adding a dramatic crackling blue ambiance to her entrance.
Tasha struck a subtle confident pose, resting one hand on her hip, pushing her chest out slightly.
Her heart was beating so fast she was terrified Klaus could hear it.
"K-Klaus...?" Tasha called out with her raspy voice trembling slightly despite her attempt at confidence. "What... what do you think of this one?"
Klaus turned his head, his silver eyes sweeping over her new outfit.
Tasha held her breath.
She waited for his eyes to widen. She waited for a smirk, a low whistle, or even a heavy stare lingering on her exposed collarbone.
On Klaus's shoulder, Sparky narrowed her glowing blue eyes. "Tsk. She's trying way too hard… She looks like a desperate tavern dancer trying to get a discount on a room."
"For once, spark-bug, I agree with your assessment," Valeria added smoothly. "The human's attempt at seduction is painfully transparent. The King is far beyond such basic mortal parlor tricks."
Klaus ignored the chibis. He looked at Tasha, opening his mouth to give a reply.
"It looks—"
"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
A deafening eardrum-shattering squeal of ecstasy suddenly erupted from the deepest dressing room at the back of the shop.
The shriek was so loud and sudden that Tasha physically jumped with her hand flying to her father's sword hilt.
Several other customers browsing the shop dropped their items, and three of the shop assistants gasped, turning their heads toward the back.
The heavy velvet curtains were violently thrown open.
Madame Vesper emerged with her flamboyant, multi-layered dress swishing wildly as she fell to her knees on the polished floor, tears of pure artistic joy streaming down her cheeks.
Her hands were clasped together in prayer, her face locked in an expression of religious worship.
"I have done it..." Madame Vesper wept loudly with her voice trembling. "I have achieved the absolute zenith of my tailoring career... I can die happy... Behold! The pinnacle of cuteness!"
Stepping out from the dark dressing room, walking with slow measured and silent steps, was Anya.
The entire shop instantly went dead silent.
Every single customer, every mercenary buying cloaks, every worker folding silk… they all stopped exactly what they were doing and stared.
Anya had been completely transformed.
Madame Vesper hadn't put her in a standard winter coat.
The eccentric shop owner had dressed the six-year-old Shinigami in a breathtaking, painstakingly detailed, custom-tailored Gothic Lolita dress.
The gown was a stunning masterpiece of deep midnight-purple and pitch-black velvet, layered with cascades of pristine snow-white lace frills along the hem and collar.
Anya wore tiny, perfectly fitted black leather boots with silver buckles, and pristine white ruffled stockings that stopped just below her knees.
Her waist was tied with a wide, elegant black ribbon woven from shimmering shadow-silk.
Her long pristine silver hair had been expertly brushed and styled, falling perfectly around her shoulders, topped with an adorable miniature black velvet bonnet decorated with a single, dark-purple rose.
To complete the aesthetic, the shop owner had placed a tiny functioning parasol made of black lace into Anya's small hand.
Anya stood in the center of the shop, her striking purple eyes scanning the room with deadpan indifference.
The complete lack of emotion on her flawless porcelain face only amplified the aesthetic.
She looked like a living, breathing and incredibly expensive magical doll that had just stepped out of a fairy tale.
The devastating gap-moe between her terrifying identity as a spatial-manipulating Shinigami and her current adorable appearance was a weapon of mass destruction.
"Oh... my... god..." a hardened scarred mercenary whispered from across the shop with a single tear rolling down his rough cheek. "She's so cute... I want to adopt her..."
"Look at the frills!" a female customer squealed softly, clutching her chest as if experiencing a heart attack.
Tasha stood frozen in her sleek sexy combat corset, completely and utterly forgotten.
Her carefully planned heart-pounding entrance had been entirely nuked from orbit.
On Klaus's shoulder, even the antagonistic Sparky's jaw dropped.
"Okay... You guys know I hate everything... but that is objectively the most adorable thing I've ever seen in my whole existence."
"Target has been dressed in restrictive complex fabrics," Anya reported flatly with her melodic voice carrying through the silent shop.
She looked directly at Klaus, tilting her head slightly as the tiny black bonnet shifted on her silver hair.
"Father. This outer shell restricts optimal combat mobility by twelve percent… Requesting permission to incinerate it."
Klaus didn't sigh.
For the first time all morning, a genuine fatherly smile broke across Klaus's impossibly handsome face.
Klaus walked across the shop, completely ignoring the staring crowd, and crouched down in front of the little Shinigami.
He reached out his large calloused hand, gently adjusting the tiny black bonnet on her head, before warmly ruffling her silver hair.
"No incinerating the dress, Anya," Klaus chuckled softly, his silver eyes filled with genuine affection. "You look great. It suits you."
Anya blinked.
Her purple eyes widened a fraction of a millimeter.
A nearly imperceptible pink blush dusted her pale cheeks, and she clutched the handle of her tiny lace parasol a bit tighter.
"If Father deems the aesthetic acceptable," Anya murmured softly, looking down at her tiny boots. "then I