The boutique stood apart from the surrounding shops, its entrance framed by tall glass panels and soft golden lighting that spilled outward, giving it an air of quiet luxury, while inside, the space was arranged with careful elegance, rows of finely tailored garments displayed with deliberate spacing, each piece illuminated just enough to highlight its craftsmanship without overwhelming the eye.
As Damon stepped in with Sahira, a female attendant approached them almost immediately, her posture straight and her smile professional yet warm.
"Welcome," she said smoothly, her voice carrying a practiced grace, "please feel free to look around, and let me know how I may assist you."
Damon gave a small nod in acknowledgment before gesturing toward Sahira without hesitation.
"Show her whatever suits her."
The attendant's gaze shifted to Sahira, her eyes briefly scanning her from head to toe, taking in her frame, posture, and current attire in a single, trained glance before her smile softened slightly.
"Of course," she said, turning toward Sahira, "would you please come with me?"
Sahira hesitated for just a moment before nodding lightly, following the attendant deeper into the boutique, her steps quieter now as she disappeared behind one of the inner sections where selections were likely more personalized.
Damon remained near the entrance, shifting slightly to the side where he was less noticeable, his posture relaxed as he waited, his gaze occasionally drifting across the store but never settling on anything in particular.
Moments passed.
Then—
The doors slid open again.
Another customer entered.
A young man stepped inside casually, his eyes moving around the boutique as if searching for something, before he began walking further in without paying much attention to his surroundings.
Damon's gaze followed him for a brief second.
Then—
He moved silently.
Positioning himself directly behind the young man without a sound.
So it was this bastard… huh.
He reached out and tapped the man's shoulder.
The reaction was immediate.
A click of irritation.
"Tch."
The young man brushed the hand off without even turning, his voice dismissive.
Damon tapped him again as the same reaction followed.
Another dismissive motion.
Another annoyed tone.
"Don't disturb me… I'm doing something important."
Damon's lips curved slightly.
"Is that so?"
The voice changed everything.
The young man froze completely.
His body stiffened as if something had locked into place, and slowly—almost mechanically—he turned around, his expression shifting the moment his eyes met Damon's.
"B-boss!"
Eric's orange pupils trembled visibly as he stared, his entire demeanor collapsing into nervousness within seconds.
Damon tilted his head slightly, one brow raising as his expression remained calm.
"What important work are you doing?"
Eric swallowed hard.
"Hehe… h-hey boss…" he stammered, his voice unsteady as his hands moved awkwardly, "I-I just wanted to buy something for my d-dead grandfather… y-you see…"
Damon cracked his knuckles slowly.
One by one.
The sound alone was enough to make Eric stiffen further, his posture tightening as panic flickered across his face.
"I-I was just wondering…" Eric continued hurriedly, his words stumbling over each other, "w-who is the wo-woman m-my b-boss is on a date with…"
Then, without waiting—
His expression changed abruptly.
"I just remembered!" he said quickly, stepping back, "I-I need to buy some candies… see you tomorrow, boss!"
And just like that—
He slipped away.
Disappearing into the crowd outside almost instantly.
Damon watched him leave for a second before shaking his head slightly, a faint sigh escaping him as he turned back toward the interior of the boutique, the quiet bustle continuing as if nothing had happened.
From behind him, another attendant's voice could be heard greeting a new arrival.
"Welcome, Miss… what would you—"
But Damon had already moved, walking deeper inside toward the section where Sahira had gone.
Damon's gaze drifted across the boutique interior as he walked further in, his eyes briefly scanning the rows of clothing and the quality of fabrics on display, noting the fine stitching, the subtle mana-infused threads woven into certain pieces, and the overall refinement that set this place apart from the ordinary market stalls outside.
Soon, he spotted the same attendant who had taken Sahira inside.
She noticed him as well, approaching him.
A faint, knowing smile curved on her lips, something slightly ambiguous in the way her eyes lingered on him before she raised her hand and subtly pointed toward the changing rooms behind her.
Then—
She winked.
"You will definitely enjoy it…"
Damon's brows furrowed slightly at that, a trace of confusion crossing his expression as he watched her walk away without further explanation.
…What is that supposed to mean?
With nothing else to do, he moved toward a nearby couch and sat down, picking up one of the magazines scattered across the table in front of him, flipping through it absentmindedly while waiting.
Moments passed.
Then—
The door to one of the changing rooms slid open.
"Y-young master…"
The voice was soft ,embarrassed.
Damon looked up and froze.
Sahira stood there, hesitantly stepping out, dressed in a stylized nurse-themed outfit that was clearly designed more for display than function, the white fabric tailored far too closely to her body, with a shortened hemline and a fitted bodice that emphasized her curves rather than concealing them, while the neckline dipped lower than any practical uniform would allow, making the entire outfit feel less like attire and more like a deliberate exaggeration of one.
Damon stared.
Eyes widened.
Mouth slightly open.
For a brief moment, his usual composure simply… vanished.
Sahira's face burned red the instant she met his gaze.
Her entire expression flustered.
And before another second could pass—
She retreated.
The door slid shut again.
"I-I will wear something else…!"
Her voice came from inside, hurried and panicked.
Damon coughed lightly, forcing his expression back into place as he looked away, blinking once as if to reset himself.
A few moments later—
The door opened again.
And—
This time, the outfit leaned into something even more overtly theatrical, resembling a decorative maid-style attire but stripped of its practicality, the fabric hugging her form more tightly, the skirt shorter and layered in a way that drew attention with every small movement, while the neckline and sleeves were altered just enough to shift it from uniform into something unmistakably meant to be eye-catching rather than appropriate.
Damon's eyes narrowed slightly as realization dawned.
"…You will definitely enjoy it…"
So that's what she meant…
His gaze shifted briefly, his thoughts clicking into place.
Did seeing her in a maid uniform give that woman some completely wrong ideas or what…
He looked back at Sahira.
Her face was even redder now, her posture stiff, her hands nervously gripping the edge of the fabric as if unsure what to do with herself.
Damon exhaled slowly.
"Just… wear your maid uniform," he said, his voice steady but edged with restraint, "I'm sure there's nothing normal in there… we'll look for something else."
His fists clenched slightly at his sides as he turned his gaze away, taking a deeper breath, blinking a few times as he tried to settle the faint agitation rising within him.
Then—
From inside the changing room—
A hesitant voice followed.
"Y-young master… c-can you come here?"
Damon moved instantly the moment he heard her voice, his expression sharpening as his thoughts turned alert in an instant.
Is something wrong?
Did someone get in?
Another assassin—?
He didn't hesitate as he stepped forward and opened the changing room door, slipping inside quickly and shutting it behind him in the same motion, his senses briefly scanning the enclosed space before his gaze landed on her.
Then—
He paused.
"What are you doing… standing here half naked?"
Sahira stood there awkwardly, her back partially turned toward him, the earlier outfit halfway removed, the fabric loosened but still clinging in places where it refused to come off, her hands struggling near her back where the zipper had gotten stuck midway, leaving her in an in-between state that was far more revealing than she probably intended.
Her shoulders tensed the moment he spoke.
"T-this chain is stuck…" she said, her voice small and embarrassed, her face already flushed as she avoided looking at him, "c-can you… help?"
Damon turned his gaze slightly away almost immediately.
Control yourself…
Don't do anything stupid…
If you lose control here—
He exhaled quietly, lifting his hand as he stepped closer, his fingers reaching carefully toward the stuck zipper, his posture stiff with restraint as he tried to focus only on the task.
The zipper didn't budge.
He applied a bit more force.
Still stuck.
He adjusted his grip and tried again—
"Aah…Ohh"
A soft sound escaped her lips.
"Umm…"
Damon's brows twitched slightly, irritation flickering across his face.
"Stay still" he muttered, his tone high but strained.
"B-be gentle…" she replied immediately, her voice trembling as she stiffened slightly under his touch.
Damon looked away again, his jaw tightening as both his hands worked more carefully this time, trying to ease the stuck chain without pulling too hard, his movements restrained yet slightly awkward as he adjusted his angle again and again, the zipper resisting stubbornly.
Outside, faint voices filtered through.
"Hmm… is that young master gone…?"
"Ohh… miss, do you need something?"
Damon's expression darkened slightly.
This is definitely because of that attendant…
He focused again, adjusting his grip one last time before applying a controlled pull—
And finally—
The zipper slid down.
"It's done."
His voice came out lower than usual, his body faintly glistening with heat as he stepped back immediately, creating distance without looking at her again.
Without waiting another second, he turned and opened the door, stepping out into the open space as if escaping the confined air inside.
"Just meet me at the exit."
He didn't wait for a response.
He walked away as time passed.
And after a while, Sahira emerged as well, her face still flushed a deep red, her head lowered as she walked quietly through the boutique until she reached the exit.
Damon was already there waiting.
A few bags rested in his hands.
"I picked these up for you," he said simply, his tone back to normal, "you can look at them once we're back at the dorm."
Sahira nodded quietly.
And without another word—
The two of them left together, walking side by side in an awkward silence that neither of them broke.
***
"You didn't tell me who it was… how was I supposed to know it!"
Damon's voice carried a restrained edge as he stood facing the holographic projection, his gaze locked onto the figure before him, refusing to yield even slightly despite the pressure that naturally came with it.
The figure of Duke Valecrest stood tall within the projection, his presence composed yet undeniably oppressive, his golden eyes fixed on Damon with a cold, unwavering intensity as he responded without raising his voice.
"If you continue with your shenanigans… do not use the name Valecrest anymore," he said, each word measured and deliberate, carrying a weight that did not need to be emphasized, "you will meet that girl tomorrow, you will apologize to her, and within a week, you will take her out to dinner."
There was no room for negotiation.
No space for argument.
"I hope I won't hear anything different," the Duke continued, his tone sharpening just slightly, "or next time… it won't be just a warning."
The projection remained for a brief moment longer before the connection ended, the figure dissolving into empty space, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than before.
Damon stood still.
His hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides, the tension in his body rising as his jaw tightened, his thoughts moving rapidly beneath the surface.
I need to move soon…