"Brother Yakth, is Teacher Sophie really as amazing as you say? If you're lying to me, you'll regret it!" Milta swung her legs on the stool, munching on a lele fruit while glaring at Yakth beside her.
Sweat dripped down Yakth's forehead. *Teacher Sophie, don't let me down! My future happiness depends on you!* He prayed silently, eyes fixed on the empty doorway, willing Sophie to appear. *Why isn't she back yet?*
Just as Sophie reached the inn's entrance, she froze. Guards—dozens of them—stood posted outside. *Did another duel break out?*
But these weren't Yakth's men. New arrivals, perhaps?
Bracing herself to be stopped, Sophie inched forward—only to walk right in without a single challenge.
"Teacher Sophie!" Yakth's sudden shout made her jump. He beamed like a fool, rushing over. *Did he find money or something? Why so happy?*
"Please, sit! Have some tea!" His excessive hospitality only deepened Sophie's confusion.
Then she spotted Milta peeking behind him. *Ah. He messed up and needs me to fix it.*
"Teacher Sophie, Brother Yakth says you're *incredibly* talented!" Milta hopped off her stool, eyes sparkling.
"Uh…" *What nonsense did Yakth feed her? If she expects magic lessons, I'm doomed.*
Yakth shot her a desperate look: *Sorry, had no choice!*
But Milta's next words made Sophie exhale in relief. *Oh, this? Easy!*
After being hauled to the palace, Yakth and Restin had received a stern talk from the king before being sent for healing. Yakth, less injured, recovered quickly—only to get ambushed by Milta. The two got along well despite the age gap.
Eager to impress, Yakth tried summoning a fireball. It backfired—literally—burning Milta's favorite doll to ashes.
Heartbroken, Milta crouched in a corner, drawing circles on the floor. "Curse you…"
Terrified, Yakth blurted, "Teacher Sophie can fix it! She'll make you a *better* doll!"
"Really?" Skeptical but hopeful, Milta dragged him to the inn. Now here they were.
*Just a doll?* Sophie nearly laughed. *I've made Chinese dolls, Korean dolls, puppets—all top-tier!*
"What kind do you want?" she asked.
"*Pretty*." A simple request—from a princess whose standards were sky-high.
Sophie listed supplies: "A hundred gold needles, five rolls of vibrant fabric, lace trim—"
Milta ordered a guard to fetch everything—*double*, just in case.
As Sophie transformed fabric into tiny limbs, clothes, and a head, Milta watched, mesmerized.
Grabbing scissors, Milta hacked at the cloth—creating a gaping hole. Sophie winced but stayed silent. *She's the princess.*
After massacring half the materials, Milta produced a lopsided "dress," then gave up, pouting after pricking her fingers too many times.
Sophie assembled the pieces—and a stunning Korean doll emerged.
Milta snatched it, inspecting every inch before hugging it. "Teacher Sophie… let's *collaborate*!"
Sophie froze mid-stretch.
"Collaborate? With *Milta*?"
*What's she planning now?*