Chapter 123: Luxury Shopping

Their destination discreetly dominated the corner of the street: an old building, grander than its neighbors without ever becoming ostentatious. Its pale stone façade was adorned with tall arched windows, delicately wrought balconies, and moldings carved with almost unreal precision.

Two bronze lanterns framed a monumental entrance of glass and black metal, beyond which a lobby gleamed with a luxury that was evident even from outside.

"Is this your grandfather's place?" Eva asked, looking up toward the top floors.

"Not that I know of," Blanche replied.

"Thank goodness," Eva sighed. "I was this close to believing royal drakions got a thirteenth-month bonus."

Blanche burst out laughing.

Kiyan merely rolled his eyes with a quiet sigh.

"Are the jokes about his fortune going to last much longer?"

"Probably until she figures out how all of you manage to be rich," Blanche answered.

"We work."

"Oh. Damn. That theory doesn't really work in my favor."

This time Eva snorted with laughter, and the faintest smile flickered across the Shah's lips.

Just for an instant.

But Blanche caught it.

And considered that an entirely acceptable victory.

They stepped into the lobby.

The floor, entirely covered in pink marble streaked with white, reflected the warm glow of enormous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Thin golden inlays outlined every border, running along the walls like streams of light. The air carried the subtle fragrance of beeswax and fresh flowers; somewhere, a bouquet of white lilies decorated an antique console table, while an immense gold-framed mirror made the already majestic space appear even larger.

Even the mailboxes looked as though they had been designed by an architect deeply in love with his craft.

"I think this building is cleaner than my room," Eva murmured.

"That isn't very difficult," Blanche replied.

"Traitor."

"Realist."

Kiyan slowly shook his head as he led them toward an elevator made entirely of glass.

The transparent walls overlooked the lobby, while the cabin itself, finished in brushed brass and dark wood, seemed surprisingly narrow.

The three of them stepped inside.

Well...

They tried.

Blanche found herself almost wedged between Eva and Kiyan, who, at a solid six-foot-two with an athlete's build, already occupied a good half of the available space.

"Are you sure this elevator is meant for three people?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Even when one of them is a giant?"

Kiyan looked down at her.

"I'm not a giant."

"You're almost two meters tall."

"One meter eighty-nine."

"Oh, my mistake... a hobbit, then."

Eva burst into laughter.

Kiyan pinched the bridge of his nose with almost admirable composure.

"I'm already regretting bringing you two."

"You say that now, but you opened the car door for us."

"That was just basic courtesy."

"Too late. It's personal now."

This time, even he couldn't suppress a faint smile.

The elevator continued its silent ascent, gliding effortlessly up the glass shaft.

The ride was so short that Blanche almost felt as though the building itself had hurried to deliver them to their destination.

Blanche's surprise was complete when the elevator doors opened and she came face to face with Benjamin and Kysten, accompanied by another vampire of particularly distinguished appearance.

By "distinguished," one had to understand leather trousers, polished dress shoes, and a silk shirt scandalously unbuttoned down to his navel. The man's hair was so long that, viewed from the front, it was nearly impossible to tell where it ended. A neatly trimmed V-shaped beard completed the ensemble, which was entirely black and strangely mesmerizing.

Both Kysten and the newcomer wore magnificent smoked glasses.

Benjamin, however, rushed toward Blanche the instant she stepped out of the elevator and wrapped her in a hug before she'd truly had time to study the stranger.

He seemed to be wearing his usual vampiric attire.

"Hello!" he exclaimed cheerfully, as though he hadn't seen her in weeks.

Blanche returned the embrace under the puzzled gaze of both the stranger and her best friend. She immediately followed it with a hug for Kysten, who looked delighted. Even Kiyan received an embrace from his son, along with a warm greeting from the vampire elf.

"Eva," Kiyan said, "I'd like you to meet Prince Benjamin and his bodyguard, Kysten. Girls, this is Dimitri Koslov, our stylist and today's host."

"Oh my! Two gorgeous new beauties!" Dimitri exclaimed in a thick Eastern European accent. "What luck! Are you here with Mister Winter?"

"We are," Kiyan replied. "He's running late and asked us to begin without him."

So that's why he was in such a bad mood this morning, Blanche thought, while Benjamin and Kysten finally greeted Eva.

Eva narrowed her eyes as she studied the prince.

He had "stolen" her best friend.

That alone was enough for her to dislike him, no matter how charming he was.

She folded her arms, radiating unmistakable hostility.

Fortunately, Benjamin didn't seem offended. He turned back toward his father.

"We should get going," Kysten reminded him.

Benjamin kept it brief.

"My history teacher's been hounding me. He keeps insisting on Sunday. You're sure you can't come?" he asked Kiyan.

Kiyan sighed without losing his composure.

Benjamin made the most adorable pout, drawing a smile from Blanche, who immediately shot Mister Ardachir a pointed glare.

Faced with that silent yet unmistakable pressure, Kiyan finally relented.

"Great! I owe you one!" Benjamin called as Kysten dragged him toward the elevator by the arm.

The elf waved cheerfully at them.

"I'm counting on it!" Kiyan replied as the doors slid shut.

"I wasn't talking to you!"

He knew perfectly well that it was thanks to his mother that his father had finally given in.

Blanche giggled while Kiyan glared at the now-closed elevator doors.

Blanche and Eva quickly realized that they clearly did not share the nobility's definition of shopping.

They imagined an afternoon wandering through shopping streets, popping into a dozen boutiques, comparing prices, debating over a dress for twenty minutes before leaving empty-handed...

...and then finishing at a bakery because shopping somehow always made you hungry.

Winter Drake...

Had simply privatized an entire couture house.

Blanche stood frozen on the threshold for several seconds.

"Oh."

She blinked several times.

Eva did the same.

"I think I should've grown up in a different social class."

"You think?" Eva replied with impeccable seriousness.

"I wasn't entirely sure."

The entire boutique seemed to have been emptied for them.

The muffled silence was broken only by the soft rustle of fabric whenever an employee moved a hanger.

Towering wardrobes stretched from floor to ceiling, like the shelves of a monumental library where books had been replaced by clothing.

Hundreds upon hundreds of garments hung in perfect order, arranged by color, fabric, and season. Every hanger was perfectly aligned. Every jacket, every dress, every coat seemed to wait patiently for its future owner.

Wool stood beside cashmere. Silk answered velvet. Tweed neighbored the softest leather. The colors flowed from winter white to the deepest black, passing through every imaginable shade, as though someone had decided to organize a rainbow with military precision.

In the center of the vast room, an enormous cream-colored sofa faced two elegantly designed armchairs.

Between them stood a pale marble coffee table laden with entire trays of pastries, macarons, petits fours, still-warm viennoiseries, delicate savory bites, refined sandwiches, freshly cut fruit, and steaming beverages.