Isis approached Beacai, catching sight of her disheveled skirt. Without hesitation, she reached out to straighten it, all the while muttering, “If you want to impress me, you could at least wear the dress properly. This mess won’t do.”
She had considered escaping, but seeing the hopeful expression on Beacai’s face, she hesitated. It wasn’t because of Beacai, of course. If she fled during the fitting, Beacai would surely catch her quickly. The consequences of that would be far worse.
So, she decided to stay. That’s what she told herself, anyway. Isis fussed with the decorations on Beacai’s skirt, smoothing it out, while Beacai leaned against her, her pale cheeks flushing with a soft blush. Her gaze was fixed on Isis’s hands, her delicate fingers brushing against the skirt’s trimmings, stirring a sweet, alluring feeling within her. It was the first time her mother had ever helped her with her dress.
“Does Mom know a lot about this kind of dress?” Beacai asked curiously.
Of course, Isis didn’t. Apart from arranging a few decorations, she knew nothing about the intricate ties and details. After all, she had never worn a princess dress. Such youthful attire was hardly suited for her. But if she didn’t help Beacai, the sight of her was simply unbearable, so she turned to the store clerk with a smile. “I’m sure the clerk is more experienced with this than I am.”
“Oh, you’re too kind, miss! It is my job, after all, so of course, I’m familiar with it. Let me show you how to tie the laces…”
The clerk’s smile reached her ears as she hurried over to Beacai, finishing the last of the laces. Isis nodded approvingly, pleased with how everything had been done. Beacai, now perfectly dressed in her princess gown, stood with her hands at her waist, her eyes sparkling with an uncommon joy, like a princess who had received her heart’s desire, elegant and exceedingly beautiful.
“Mom, do I look pretty?” Beacai asked gracefully, like a true princess. Isis instinctively crossed her arms and looked away, replying coolly, “You look all right.”
Despite finding Beacai quite charming in the dress, Isis couldn’t admit it. Their relationship was far from mother and daughter, and any admission would mean she was falling for the evil god’s scheme, changing her view of the gods. That was unacceptable to her. Evil gods were always evil, their chaotic nature unchangeable.
The clerk, surprised by Isis’s lukewarm response, whispered, “Miss, you sure have high standards. If my daughter were that adorable, I’d be hugging her tight right now!”
Unlike the clerk, Beacai’s eyes twinkled with delight at Isis’s comment. She knew it was the highest praise Isis could offer. Anything more would be saved for later. Beacai opened her arms to Isis, hoping for the hug the clerk had mentioned, but instead, received a new dress.
“Keep trying on the clothes.” Isis smiled, handing her the new dress, breaking the moment. Beacai, without a word of protest, took the dress and happily went into the fitting room. Despite trying on countless outfits, her enthusiasm didn’t waver. Isis, seated nearby, sighed deeply. Beacai wasn’t tired, but Isis was.
The fitting room was near the window, and from her seat, Isis could see the changing light outside as the day turned to dusk. People bustled along the street, and the sunlight filtering into the shop flickered. Suddenly, Isis spotted two men in yellow coats dragging a young elf girl into an alley. The girl, perhaps five or six, clung to one man’s hand, clearly unwilling, her eyes red from crying. One man pulled her into the alley, while the other, heavier-set, blocked the view of passersby.
Thinking of the many elves enslaved after losing her protection, Isis clenched her fists and stood up, leaving the store clerk bewildered. “I’ll be right back, just stepping out for a moment.”
“Huh? Miss?”
****
In the dim alley, the man with a scar on his left cheek pulled the girl’s hand, his grin unnerving, as if he’d won a precious prize. Beside him, the fat man licked his lips, his intentions unclear. The elf girl, trapped between them, was helpless, trying to pull away but too weak to break free. She seemed on the verge of tears.
“Let go of her! What do you want with her?!” Isis called out from the alley entrance, her arms crossed, her face stern. She longed for her former power, to drive away anyone threatening the elves. But time had passed, and now she could only stand at the entrance, ready to call for help if needed. Without power, she had to be cautious. This realization left her feeling strangely awkward.
The scarred man noticed her, and upon seeing her elf-like ears, he sneered, “Another elf meddling in our business? Leave, or you’ll be sold as a s*ave too!”
“Hey, boss, why don’t we just grab her? No one’s around to see.” The fat man looked around, his eyes glinting with malice as he slowly approached Isis. Seeing their determination, Isis stepped back, ready to flee the alley, calling out, “This city has laws, doesn’t it? Don’t you fear me calling for help? Even if it’s secluded, someone might hear!”
In the holy city of Prelli, governed by the Blood Church, Beacai had spoken of nothing but happiness and beauty. But now, Isis saw a different truth.