The mannequin was preventing her from walking away. Its wooden hand gripped her shoulder tightly, sending shivers down her spine. Myra started to panic, her breathing growing uneven.
The headless doll moved its arms as if it were alive.
"Amyra..." it called out.
What the hell?!
Myra didn't know what to do or how to react. There wasn't a single soul around to assure her that she was just daydreaming. She cursed herself for following the voice and leaving Lady Florence downstairs. Slowly, she turned back to face the mannequin. The wooden hand slipped off her shoulder, and the doll froze.
Did I just imagine that? she wondered. Or did this mannequin really move? She stared at it suspiciously.
Just then, she heard Florence's voice from behind.
"There you are," the lady called, making Myra turn around again. This time, the headless doll remained still.
"I've been searching for you everywhere."
Florence approached with another sales assistant, who looked like a pure-blooded vampiress.
"I'm sorry. I was just looking around," Myra apologized.
Florence chuckled. "That's alright." Then her eyes landed on the dress worn by the headless mannequin. Stepping forward, she touched the fabric, a sweet smile forming on her face as she admired the craftsmanship.
Turning to Myra, she asked, "Do you like it?"
Myra stared at the floor, avoiding her gaze.
"I—I, um..." she stammered, unable to admit that she did.
"You're buying this," Florence said with finality, making Myra look up in astonishment.
"I didn't know you had such good taste when it comes to picking dresses."
Myra opened her mouth to protest. "Lady Flo—"
But Florence cut her off, instructing the sales assistant to pack it up.
The woman nodded. "Great choice, Miss. This is a limited edition ball gown designed by the renowned dressmaker, Laure Sheldon. In fact, this gown was her final masterpiece. Sadly, it's said that Laure passed away just a week after completing it. Some even whisper that a spell was cast upon it — that the dress chooses its owner."
She lowered her voice slightly, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone.
"This gown was originally designed to be gifted to the future Lady of Arcadia. But Laure wasn't fully satisfied with it and had begun working on something even more exquisite for the Lady..." She glanced at Myra, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "Some say that right after completing this gown, Laure started working on another — an even grander creation, meant exclusively for the future Lady of Arcadia. But before she could finish it, a fire broke out in her atelier. Laure perished in the flames, and the second gown was lost with her. This one, however, miraculously survived."
Florence gazed at the gown in awe, while Myra stood awkwardly beside her, mentally scrambling for a way to escape without purchasing anything. But it seemed Florence had already made up her mind.
"But... are you sure you want to buy this gown?" the saleswoman asked, her expression doubtful.
"YES," said Florence.
"NO!" blurted Myra.
The assistant blinked at the contrasting answers.
Florence inhaled sharply, mock-glaring at Myra before saying firmly,
"Yes, we are buying it."
"But—" Myra began.
"No buts, Amyra. I insist. Besides, it'll look so good on you."
Then she turned to the assistant. "Pack this along with the other dresses."
The saleswoman bowed and called a salesboy to set the gown aside, then led both of them to the cash counter.
Florence had picked out four dresses for herself. After the billing process, she instructed the cashier to add Myra's gown to the bill.
"It costs eight hundred gold coins, ma'am," the cashier said blankly. "Do you still wish to proceed?"
Not many would spend so much on a single gown, even among the rich elite. Many customers had admired the dress before, only to shy away after hearing the price.
The cashier braced himself for the same reaction — but only got it from one of the two women.
One looked ready to faint; the other, poised and unmoved.
Myra was dumbstruck. She'd never possessed even a single gold coin in her life. The idea of spending hundreds on one dress felt unfathomable.
"Go ahead, bill it," Florence said casually.
Myra shook her head, grabbing Florence's arm.
"No, Lady Florence. I don't want that gown."
But Florence ignored her. "Amyra, give me Theo's card."
Myra looked away, refusing. She had already decided not to use the Lord's money.
Florence sighed.
"Do you have to be this stubborn?"
"I'll feel bad if you don't buy it. Besides, if we don't get you something now, Theo will probably buy you something even more expensive later."
"He won't," Myra muttered, shaking her head. Why would the Lord waste his money on someone like her?
"Trust me — he will," Florence said firmly. "Now give me the card."
After a lot of convincing, Myra gave in and handed it over. Florence passed it to the cashier.
His eyes widened when he saw the name. He glanced at Amyra with an unreadable expression, then, with shaking hands, recorded the card details before returning it to her.
He neatly packed Florence's dresses and handed them over. Then he turned to Amyra.
"Miss," he said with a polite smile, "we'll deliver your gown directly. Could you provide your address?"
"Send it to the Warburton Mansion," Florence answered instead.
The cashier's eyes widened briefly before he composed himself.
"Thank you for shopping at Sheldon's," he said, bowing respectfully to both ladies.
***
After strolling around Horlicks Street a while longer, the two ladies returned home. Florence first dropped Myra off at the Lord's residence, then continued on to the Swanson household.
The butler greeted Myra in the courtyard.
"I hope you had a pleasant shopping trip, my lady?" he asked as she entered.
Myra nodded grimly.
"Alvin, is the Lord home?"
"No, my lady. But I believe he will be back soon."
She hadn't seen him since yesterday morning, when he left right after breakfast.
Myra didn't want to keep leeching off the Lord's money. She didn't want any of the special treatment she was currently receiving from the staff. Last night, while reading in the library, she had decided to leave the mansion and search for employment. She couldn't rely on him forever. She needed to talk to him.
She nodded absentmindedly.
"Would you like something to eat?" Alvin asked.
Myra shook her head.
"No, thank you, Alvin. I'll be in my room. Please let me know when the Lord returns. I need to speak with him."
Seeing Alvin nod, she turned and walked toward the guest room.