Lys stepped out of the changing room and tugged at the collar of his new shirt. It was simple, plain blue linen, nothing fancy, but it didn't have holes in the sleeves like his old one. He rolled his shoulders, getting used to the feel of clean fabric against his skin.
He walked back to the counter where Harlan sat hunched over a pile of notes. The old man scratched his beard with one hand and scribbled with the other, ink staining his fingers gray.
"This fits all right?" Harlan asked without looking up.
"Yeah. Feels good."
Harlan grunted. "Of course it feels good. Been making shirts since before your ma was born." He finally lifted his head and squinted at Lys. "You want the rest in two days, right? Shirts, pants, and that coat you kept yapping about?"
"Right."
"Gonna cost extra for rush. You good?"
Lys reached into his pocket and placed a few silver coins on the counter. Harlan glanced at them, then back at Lys. He raised one bushy eyebrow.
"That's all?"
"Yeah, That's the deposit. Rest when you're done."
Harlan scooped the coins into his palm and dropped them into a drawer without counting. "Fine. Two days. Don't come knocking earlier, I won't answer."
Lys smiled. "Got it, no knocking."
He turned to leave, but Harlan's voice stopped him at the door.
"Hey. That girl with the silver hair earlier. The fancy one."
Lys looked back. "Yeah, What about her?"
Harlan shrugged, picking up his charcoal again. "Nothin'. Just that she doesn't come around here often. And when she does, folks usually end up with headaches. So watch yourself."
Lys stared at him for a second. Harlan was already back to his notes, done with the conversation.
"Thanks," he said, and pushed through the door.
-----
Lys stepped out onto the dusty street, the shop door creaking shut behind him. Just as he came out, his stomach growled, but he pushed the hunger aside, along with Harlan's cryptic warning about that silver-haired lady. ‘I've got enough on my plate without worrying about some uppity stranger. Lets focus on what is in front of me right now.’
He weaved through the crowd, nodding at a few familiar faces, while the bag of old clothes bumped against his hip. The walk home wasn't long, but the smells from the bakery and the tavern made it feel endless. By the time his hut came into view, with a simple thatched roof, smoke curling from the holes of the roof, he could already catch the rich aroma of stew bubbling inside.
Pushing open the wooden door, Lys stepped in, and the warmth wrapped around him like a blanket. The small room was cozy, lit by sunlight filtering through the single window. Elara stood by the hearth, stirring a big pot with a wooden spoon, her apron dusted with flour. Mira was setting the table, her red hair tied back in a loose braid, humming a little tune.
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"Oh, look who's back!" Mira exclaimed, dropping a spoon with a clatter and rushing over. She circled him like an excited puppy, tugging at his new shirt sleeve. "Oh, Lys, these clothes! You look... almost handsome. Not like the scruffy brother I know. Where'd you get them? Did you come from buying them just now?"
Lys chuckled, setting his bag down by the door. "Just from Harlan's shop. Nothing special. Figured it was time to stop looking like I rolled in the mud."
Elara turned from the pot, wiping her hands on her apron, a warm smile lighting her face. But her eyes flicked over him appraisingly, then to the table where their neighbor Mitsu sat quietly, hands folded in her lap.
Mitsu looked up, her cheeks flushing a bit under his gaze. She was in a faded green dress, patched at the hem but cleaner than the rags he'd seen her in earlier that morning. ‘She must've tried to dress nicely with what she had,’ Lys thought, admiring how the fabric hugged her gentle curves, her dark hair falling softly over one shoulder. She was pretty in that quiet way, like a flower blooming in the shade.
"Well, don't just stand there gawking," Elara said, her voice teasing but with a hint of something sharper. She ladled stew into bowls, the steam carrying hints of thyme and onion. "Sit down before it gets cold. And Mitsu, dear, pass the bread, Lys, you're just in time."
Mitsu nodded shyly, sliding the loaf toward him as he took his seat across from her. "Thanks for having me over, Miss Elara."
Mira plopped down next to Lys, still buzzing. "Why did you come so late? Mitsu came so long ago. We were waiting for you to come back to start lunch."
Elara shot Mira a quick look, serving everyone before sitting herself. “It’s okay. We just finished, too. Well, it's nice to have a full table for once." She glanced at Lys, noticing how his eyes kept drifting to Mitsu.
A twinge of jealousy stirred in her chest, her boy, all grown up, eyeing another woman, but it faded just as quickly. After all, Mitsu was sweet and hardworking. If anyone, better her than some village flirt.
They dug in, the stew was hot but very tasty, chunks of meat melting on the tongue. Lys savored a spoonful, then caught Mitsu's eye again. She was picking at her bowl delicately, like she didn't want to seem too hungry.
"So, Mitsu," Lys said casually, breaking the comfortable silence. "What do you do around here? For work, I mean."
Mitsu paused, her spoon halfway to her mouth. She lowered it, voice soft and a bit hesitant. "Oh, um... I help out at the local tavern. You know, the one by the square."
Lys leaned in a little, curious. "Yeah? Like serving drinks or...?"
But before she could answer, Elara cleared her throat pointedly, her eyes locking on Lys with a subtle shake of her head. ‘Don't pry too deep,’ that look said. Mitsu fidgeted, glancing down. "Uhh, Just... odd jobs, really."
Mira jumped in to lighten the mood, waving her bread around. "Ohh, this stew is killer, Mom! Did you use those wild mushrooms again? It tastes even better than last time."
Elara smiled, grateful for the shift. "A few, yeah. And some of Mitsu's herbs that she brought with her, which gave it that extra kick."
They chatted on like that, easy talk about the weather turning cooler, Mira rambling about a funny mishap at the market where a goat knocked over a stall. Mitsu laughed quietly at the story, her eyes lighting up, and Lys found himself stealing more glances, appreciating her soft smile. Elara watched it all, a mix of fondness and that lingering jealousy bubbling under the surface.
Soon enough, bowls were empty. Mitsu pushed back her chair, standing with a polite nod. "That was wonderful, Miss Elara. Thank you for inviting me. But I should head out, dinner rush at the tavern starts soon, and the work piles up quickly, too. So they need me."
Mira pouted. "Aww, Already? Stay a bit longer!"
Mitsu shook her head, smoothing her dress. "Can't, sorry. Plates don't wash themselves, heh." She gave Lys a quick, shy glance. "Nice seeing you in those new clothes, Lys. They suit you."
He nodded, feeling a warmth in his chest. "Thanks. Take care out there."
Once the door clicked shut behind her, Mira started clearing the table, humming again. Lys turned to Elara, who was stacking bowls by the basin. "So, what does she really do at that tavern? Odd jobs sound too vague."
Elara sighed, turning to face him with crossed arms, her expression a blend of protectiveness and amusement. "What else, peeling onions, washing dishes, scrubbing floors, that sort of thing. She barely gets a few coppers for it. Poor girl's scraping by after her parents died, she hardly eats three meals some days."
She paused, eyeing him curiously. "But why the sudden interest in her work, hmm? Or is it her you're interested in?"
Lys felt his face heat up a little. He shrugged, grabbing a cloth to help dry the dishes, but said nothing, just focusing on the task with a small smile. Elara chuckled softly, shaking her head as they worked side by side.
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