Keela creaked her eyes open at the peek of dawn, still tightly wrapped in Velka’s arms. Noticing this, she quietly and carefully freed herself, tiptoeing to the training room. Naturally, Bertaut was already there, peering over some papers, looking like he had had a great night and was in the same stoic mood as usual. Looking up from his papers, he looked at her for a second.

“Rough night?” he asked, politely eyeing her.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I was planning on doing some training but honestly I don’t even want to do anything mildly straining”, she replied, her head aching badly this early in the morning, her side still numb from scarring.

“Let’s go out shopping then.”

“...what?”

Without another word, he got up and headed outside, donning his cloak. Keela hurried after him, doing the same. The door opened, the sunlight making her wince. Pulling her hood up, she followed, putting a bit of shade over her eyes. They started walking, heading to the fairgrounds’ market district -- which Keela hadn’t ever stepped foot in -- Bertaut walked confidently and Keela followed along like a scared goblin, hiding from the sunlight. Bertaut’s attention was caught by a shop to the side and started making a b-line for it, saying they would start there. Keela followed without looking up and noticed the sign at the entrance that read “No Elves”.

“Come on, what are you waiting for?” asked Bertaut, waiting in the entrance, looking at her.

She silently followed, dragging her hood down. The store carried heaps of clothing, from royal garments to more conventional everyday attire. Keela had never seen such a store and felt a bit overwhelmed, silently looking at the selection with a dumbfounded look. The clerk came up to Bertaut who striked a casual conversation, sneakily putting his false wedding ring on his left hand behind his back, well in sight of Keela, who quickly did the same under her cloak.

“I’m looking for some clothes for my wife, both for soirees and for everyday comfort as well as training”, said Bertaut, keeping a haughty look to play the part of the rich and noble.

“Of course we can do that. If we could just get her measurements, she can step in the back and we’ll do the measuring and tailor something for her”, said the clerk, smiling.

Keela came up next to Bertaut and pulled her hood down, unbuckling her cloak and folding it in her hands. The two clerks immediately changed their expressions, going from inviting smiles to disgusted glares.

“Is there a problem?” asked Bertaut, looking down on them.

“We don’t serve elves here sir”, replied the clerk with a somber look.

“You’re serving me, I’m making the request, surely there’s no problem then?”

“We don’t trust that backstabbing race. Ever since they decided to break the concord and decimate the dwarves, we refuse to serve them.”

“Does she look like she killed dwarves? Do I look like I care?”

“It’s not about you, sir. It is a policy we cannot go over.”

“So you’re going to hold a disaster made by an entire army over the head of one girl and refuse to make money just because of it?”

“We—”

“I could stand with you in the measuring room if you’re that terrified of her backstabbing you.”

The clerk paused, eyeing Bertaut up and down. Keela was sheepishly staring at the ground, slightly embarrassed at this display. Bertaut smiled and poked at his heavy coin purse, making it jingle. The clerk sighed for what seemed like a dozen seconds before rolling their eyes back.

“Fine. But you’re coming to safeguard”, they said, inviting them to follow to the back room.

With a coy smile, Bertaut invited Keela to walk in front of him, and the trio walked to the back room. It was much less grand than the front of the store but had a stand in the corner for measuring and tailoring, in front of a huge mirror. The clerk motioned Keela to stand on it and undress to a minimum. Keela obeyed, blushing slightly and eyeing Bertaut who politely looked to the side. The clerk came up to her with a measuring strip of leather that had markings on it. They noticed her dagger strapped to her thigh and grimaced, but abstained from commentary, their expression softening as they noticed the Ivory Razor scar. Silently, they pulled their sleeve up a bit, showing Keela the scar on their forearm and acknowledged her with a nod. She awkwardly smiled and waited as her measurements were taken. After a few minutes, Keela was allowed to put her clothes back on and they both exited the store, paying and being let know that the clothes would be ready for the next day. As soon as they were out of earshot, Keela whipped around towards Bertaut.

“What was ANY of that?” she said, a touch too loudly, attracting the attention of some bystanders.

“We bought you clothes? I very well can’t keep giving you servant’s clothes and getting lucky with dresses. So we bought you a full wardrobe. If you’re going to keep posing as my wife you need to look the part” he replied, looking into the distance, avoiding eye contact.

“The store clearly said they didn’t serve elves. Why were you so insistent?”

“Well, for one, they’re the best store that makes that amount of custom made clothes. And secondly, I don’t lower myself to hating elves for the act of their nation. You can’t have been in the government and decided on the fates of those dwarves. That was only a few.”

“...sure. That was still extremely embarrassing.”

Bertaut flashed her a rare warm smile that seemed genuine and dragged her along as they went about for the rest of the day, visiting most of the market district. Food stalls, pretty fabrics, endless baubles and gear were served up by the stands along the streets. Keela was enjoying her time when suddenly, her mind blanked and an image was imposed into it. A wide desert, winds of glass sweeping through. Corpses littering the ground to the end of view, tainting the pristine sand with stains of crimson. The scalding sun making sweat pearl off the forehead of a nearly dead elf messenger. The messenger noticed her and stretched out a hand towards her with pleading eyes.

“Come back…” they muttered before the vision was abruptly wrenched out of her mind, making her lightheaded and nearly trip from the shock.

Keela quickly asked Bertaut to head back home and furrowed her brow. She had some thinking to do, if only to understand what she had just seen.