The high-end shopping district of Elarion glittered under the bright artificial sky.

Crystal walkways connected floating boutiques. The air hummed with soft chimes from enchanted displays.

It was completely different from the human domain It was as if a bubble of wealth and privilege. Azrael found it impressive and a little nauseating at the same time.

He walked slightly behind Ilythia and Selyne, feeling out of place. Ilythia moved with her usual grace, drawing subtle nods of respect from people passing by.

Selyne practically bounced with excitement, her eyes darting from one shop window to the next like she'd had too much sugar.

"Okay, first stop!" Selyne announced, pointing toward a boutique with statues of elegant mannequins at the entrance. They wore shimmering fabrics that caught the light. "They have the best accessories here!"

Ilythia sighed quietly. "Selyne, we are here for Azrael's attire. Not yours."

"But Mom, accessories complete the look! We need to look for them before choosing his clothes!" Selyne insisted, grabbing Ilythia's arm.

Ilythia let herself be pulled along, looking annoyed. Azrael followed.

Inside the glittering shop, Selyne pointed at a pulsating cravat pin. "Azrael, you need this!"

"Absolutely not," Ilythia stated flatly. "That is flashy and inappropriate for this formal event."

Selyne pouted but saw cufflinks shaped like dragons. "Okay, these then?"

"Subtle?" Azrael muttered. "They look like toys. Also these are not for boys"

Ilythia sighed. "Selyne. Its Juliana sen Selros birthday. It is a dignified occasion. None of this… glitter… is suitable."

Selyne's shoulders slumped. "But…"

"We are leaving," Ilythia said firmly. She turned and swept out. Selyne sighed but followed.

It was rare for Azrael to see Ilythia saying like that to Selyne but then he realizes. 'She must have gone through her stupidity countless time now. She will be used to it while shopping'

Azrael watched them with tired detachment. 'Here we go. Operation: Dress Up the Scapegoat.'

He followed them inside.

The store smelled like expensive perfume and polished wood. Soft music played from somewhere. Several elegantly dressed sales assistants immediately came toward them then their smiles were practiced and professional.

"Welcome to Ethereal Threads, Lady Halloway, Lady Selyne," the lead assistant said. She was a tall elf with silver hair. She bowed gracefully. "How may we assist you today?"

"We require formal attire for this young man." Ilythia gestured toward Azrael without looking at him. "Suitable for the sen Selros celebration tonight."

The assistants' eyes flickered over Azrael. He saw the quick assessment. They were calculating his status. He wasn't wearing the academy uniform now just simple clothes the mansion staff had given him as he was still hiding his wardrobe.

"Of course, my lady," the elf said smoothly. "If the young lord would follow me?"

Azrael followed her toward the menswear section. Selyne bounced along beside him. Ilythia trailed behind, looking bored.

What followed was torture.

Selyne immediately started pulling clothes off the racks with zero thought for size, style, or common sense.

"Ooh, Azrael, look at this one!" She held up a jacket with bright purple lightning bolts embroidered all over it. "It's so electrifying!"

"Absolutely not," Azrael said flatly.

"What about this?" She showed him a ruffled shirt in orange so bright it hurt to look at. "It says 'bold and confident'!"

"It says 'traffic cone,'" he shot back.

Ilythia watched the exchange with detached interest. Occasionally she made cutting remarks. "Selyne, that color would make him look sick." Or, "Azrael, try not to look quite so miserable. It wrinkles the fabric."

Azrael decided to take control. He remembered his Charisma stat.

Seventy. Ridiculously high. Practically superhuman. It had backfired spectacularly with the Orc Queen, but maybe on regular people?

He turned to one of the younger assistants hovering nearby. She looked half human she was trying not to stare at him.

He gave her a small, calculated smile. Let just a hint of his Aether subtly enhance his presence. "Excuse me, miss. I'm looking for something understated. Elegant, but powerful. Something that complements a complex personality." He leaned in slightly. "Could you perhaps offer some guidance?"

The assistant's face turned bright red. Her eyes widened. She stammered, "O-of course, sir! R-right this way! We have some new arrivals from the Shadow Weave collection that might be perfect!"

She practically tripped leading him to a different rack, fawning over him with breathless enthusiasm. Another assistant noticed and joined in, equally flustered.

"This obsidian silk tunic has subtle Aether-reactive thread..."

"And these trousers are cut in the latest Valerian style, very flattering..."

Selyne watched this with growing confusion. Her excitement turned into a pout. "Hey! I was helping him!"

Azrael ignored her, playing his part. He listened carefully to the assistants, nodding thoughtfully. Occasionally he made a self-deprecating comment that made them giggle.

He felt a flicker of his old self. Kenji, the boy who loved the stage. The boy who knew how to work a room. It felt good for a moment to have this effortless control, this easy admiration.

He quickly pushed the feeling down. This wasn't about enjoyment. It was survival. Using every tool he had.

He picked a simple but beautifully tailored outfit. Midnight-colored trousers. A deep violet tunic with subtle silver threads. A black, high-collared formal coat. Elegant. Understated. Hinting at power without being flashy.

"An excellent choice, sir!" the first assistant gushed. "It suits you perfectly!"

"And we can offer a small discount, of course," the second added quickly.

Ilythia raised an eyebrow. Something flickered in her eyes. Amusement? Annoyance? "Unnecessary. We will pay full price." She gave Azrael a look that clearly said, 'Don't push your luck.'

Now came the real test.

He turned to Selyne. She was sulking near a display of overly ornate ties. He decided to try his enhanced charm on her. Maybe he could get her to actually agree with his choice. Build some fragile teamwork.

He softened his tone. "Selyne, what do you think? Simple, right? Not too flashy like those lightning bolts." He offered a small, conspiratorial smile.

She looked at the outfit, then at him. Tilted her head. "It's black and purple. Like a bruise. Are you sure you don't want the orange one? It's much happier!"

He blinked.

She hadn't reacted to the charm at all. Just gave her honest, terrible opinion.

His smile faltered.

'Okay, so the charm stat is apparently useless against some people or genuine stupidity. Good to know.'

He cursed the system internally. Selyne's preferences were clearly immune to subtle influence.

He decided to try the final, most dangerous target. Ilythia.

He knew it was probably futile. Maybe even suicidal. But he needed to gauge her reaction. See if he could subtly shift her perception of him, even a tiny bit.

He turned to her, expression respectful and deferential. "Professor Halloway," he began, deliberately using her formal title, "your opinion would be valued. Does this attire meet the necessary standards for the occasion?"

She looked him up and down. Her gaze was analytical, missing nothing. He felt like a specimen under a microscope. Her expression stayed completely blank.

"It is adequate," she said finally. Her voice had no emotion. "It does not draw undue attention, which is perhaps the best one can hope for in your case."

She paused. Then added with a touch of ice, "Stick to choosing fabrics, boy. Manipulation is clearly beyond your current skill set. You lack subtlety."

Her words hit him like a physical slap.

Humiliation washed over him in a wave.

His Charisma, his supposed superpower was utterly useless against genuine intelligence and power. She saw right through him. Saw the desperate calculation behind the polite act.

After paying, Selyne clutched her stomach. "Mom! I'm starving! Shopping is hard!"

Ilythia gave a curt nod. "Very well. There is a place on the upper tier."

They went to a fancy restaurant. Selyne ordered a lot. Ilythia had a salad and wine. Azrael ordered pasta.

Selyne chattered about the party. Ilythia listened quietly. Azrael found himself actually talking a bit, making a few dry jokes.

Watching Ilythia's cool demeanor and Selyne's noisy energy it felt strangely… familiar. Almost like a family meal.

Ilythia's strictness reminded him vaguely of his own mother's quiet determination (though it was much colder or rather opposite). Selyne's chaotic energy was a distorted echo of his sister Hana's brightness.

It really reminded him of his family.

Then

They left the shop. Azrael carried the garment bag with his 'adequate' outfit.

Selyne immediately launched into an excited monologue about the party. Listing important people who would be there. Speculating about the food. Planning who she'd talk to first. Mostly Aria and Silas.

Azrael tuned her out. His mind was already elsewhere.

He thought about the Aether Stones Ilythia had promised. That was the real prize. Power. The means to survive.

Ilythia stayed silent, walking beside Selyne with her usual detached grace. Occasionally offering a noncommittal "Hmm" or "Indeed" to her daughter's chatter.

But Azrael felt her eyes on him. Observing. Analyzing.

Back at the mansion, Selyne was still buzzing with energy.

As they walked through the main hall, she started boasting about the orc mission again.

"And then, Mom, the Queen was huge! But I wasn't scared! I just used my blood magic, bam! And she went down!" She threw another weak punch in the air. "And Astrid? She was trying to bully Azrael again, but I totally warned her. I told her he was under my protection!"

She puffed out her chest, beaming. "She totally backed down after that. She knew who she was messing with."

Azrael stared at her.

Then slowly, deliberately, he lowered his face into his hands. Rubbed his temples.

Ilythia watched her daughter's performance with a faint, unreadable expression. Maybe maternal indulgence mixed with profound exasperation.

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