"Thank you so much for shopping with us today! Please do come again," I said warmly, finishing the transaction and closing the register with a soft click.

"You know I will, darling," Ms. Kate replied with a familiar smile. She's one of those customers who brightens the shop every time she steps through the door.

"Have a wonderful day, Ms. Kate," I added as she waved goodbye and the delicate bell above the door chimed her departure just as it had upon her arrival.

"Next in line!" I called, spotting the tall figure by the counter. "Mr. Hilton, what can I do for you today?"

"I'm here to pick up my wife's new dress, sweetheart," he said, a soft grin warming his face.

"Just a moment," I replied cheerfully, ducking behind the counter to retrieve the carefully wrapped package labeled with his wife's name. Carrying it out, I totaled the bill and slipped the receipt inside the bag. "That'll be two hundred Lunar, please."

In case you're wondering, Lunar is our local currency. It's a bit of a mystery to outsiders, but growing up in Zariya, the system feels as natural to me as dollars and cents are elsewhere. Think of Lunar as the main unit, like dollars, and Lunai as the smaller coins, equivalent to cents. So this dress? Two hundred Lunar is just two hundred dollars, in a way.

"Two hundred?" Mr. Hilton's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"What can I say? My mother stitched this beauty herself," I shrugged with a proud smile.

He chuckled and pulled out cash from his wallet. Credit cards are still a rarity here — the king's officials say they're working on it, but for now, cash is king.

"Enjoy your day," I said as he took the bag and headed out. "Next!"

A woman stepped up, her eyes bright as she smiled. "I'm looking for a floral dress for myself," she said in a tone that suggested she was new around here — I know everyone in town, and she definitely wasn't a local.

"I'm Evelyn," I said, extending a hand. "And you are?"

"Cruella," she answered, with a slight tilt of her head.

DeVille? I wondered silently but kept my expression neutral.

"Could you share your size or maybe the style you're hoping for?" I asked, keeping the conversation light.

"I'd love something floral, preferably pink, with mesh sleeves if possible. Medium size," she answered.

"Perfect. Follow me," I said, leading her toward the boutique's left side, where the dresses were displayed. The right side held mostly gowns, which she had dismissed.

"So, just a dress, nothing formal?" I checked.

"Yes, just a dress," she nodded.

Stopping by the floral section, I showed her the selection. "How about this one?" I held up a purple dress.

"Purple? I'm after pink," she scoffed.

Okay, DeVille, I thought, suppressing a smile.

"We do have pink options," I assured her, "but may I suggest purple? It complements your cool skin tone beautifully. The mesh sleeves are exactly what you wanted, and the waist cinch creates an elegant hourglass effect. It would look stunning on you."

She eyed me skeptically.

"Try it on," I encouraged, handing her the dress and guiding her to the fitting rooms.

While she changed, I returned to the counter and swiftly rang up two other customers. "Mr. Albert, good to see you! How can I assist you today?" I greeted.

Mr. Albert is a member of the town council and connected to the royal family through the Grimaldis. His wife runs a restaurant nearby and they’re quite well-off — and honestly, very charming.

"I'm looking to buy a dress for my wife. We have a dinner with some distinguished guests this weekend," he said thoughtfully.

"Something fancy?" I inquired, stepping around the counter.

"Somewhat," he replied, a little unsure.

"Long or short?" I asked, pulling dresses from the rack as I spoke.

"Long," he answered, hesitation apparent.

"To the ankles?" I clarified.

"To the floor, but not trailing behind her," he corrected.

"Any particular color or design you're thinking of?"

"Shiny," he said simply.

I chuckled lightly. "Elegantly sparkly, then?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

"And the color?" I prompted.

"Perhaps a soft blue," he suggested.

"Soft blue," I mused, surveying rows of long dresses embroidered with sequins and delicate lace. "How about this?" I held up a baby blue gown with sparkling details around the neckline and flowing lace sleeves that brushed the floor. "A small, right?"

He nodded.

"I might have her measurements from last time. Are they still the same?"

"She's put on a little weight — I feed her way too well," he laughed.

"No problem," I smiled. "I’ll loosen the waist and chest by an inch and a half. You can pick it up this evening?"

"Five o’clock sounds good. I'll be coming back from the palace then," he said.

"Perfect," I said as he left, making my way to the back room.

My mother sat quietly by her sewing machine, glasses perched on her nose, looking up as I entered.

"Mother," I greeted softly.

"Yes, dear?" she asked.

"Mr. Albert’s wife’s dress — needs an inch and a half let out at the waist and chest. He’ll pick it up at five," I told her, handing over the gown.

She nodded and set to work as I hurried back to the main room, just as Cruella returned, holding the purple dress.

"I’ll take this one," she declared.

"Any alterations?" I asked.

"No, it fits perfectly. Thank you," she said with a small smile.

"Great!" I said, ringing up her purchase. "Have a lovely day, and come back soon."

As she left, I muttered under my breath, "Cruella." It’s a name I'll remember.

Just then, Lucas appeared at the door, his grin unmistakable.

"Evelyn!" he called softly.

"Lucas," I said, trying to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks.

"I’m here to pick up the Queen’s dress for tonight," he smirked. He works as a gardener in the palace, with a deep love for nature and all things green.

"What happened to Bruce?" I asked, curious. Bruce is one of the palace butlers who usually handles these things.

"He took the day off — his daughter’s unwell with a fever," Lucas explained.

"I hope she gets better soon," I murmured, knowing Bruce’s struggles as a single father.

"Evelyn," Lucas said again, his gaze locking on mine.

He was about to say something more, but I cut in, "You’re in a hurry, right? The Queen’s dress, the King’s, and the Prince’s suits?"

We don’t usually make men’s clothing — there’s a specialist for that — but exceptions are made for royalty.

"The King’s suit is ready, but the Prince’s might need fitting," I added, feeling my breath hitch as I looked into Lucas’s bright blue eyes.

"I think you’re getting lost in my eyes again," he teased, breaking the moment.

I blushed, looking away. "Right, either my mother or I will need to come to the palace for the Prince's fitting. The suit might be a bit large since we used his father's measurements."

"I’ll inform the Queen. For now, just the Queen’s and King’s outfits, then?"

"Yes, just a moment." I hurried to the back room and grabbed two bags, each carefully labeled and wrapped.

"Five hundred Lunar," I said, returning to the counter.

Lucas handed me the payment the Queen had provided beforehand and took the bags.

"Midnight?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm," I nodded, printing the receipt.

"See you," he smiled as he left.

"Bye," I whispered, still blushing slightly.

"Next!" I called out, preparing for the next customer.

This is how my days usually unfold — a flurry of customers, dresses, and polite conversation. But evenings are a different story.

By five-thirty, I close up Cherie, my mother’s boutique, and get ready to start my other job as a waitress at my uncle’s restaurant, Fun & Food. The name might not be the most inventive, but the place buzzes with energy every night. With a karaoke stage, a lively bar, and comfy lounge areas, it’s packed six nights a week during my four-hour shifts.

While the boutique runs seven days, we close earlier on Sundays. It’s a relentless schedule but I manage.

The only time my routine feels electrified is at midnight, every other day, when I sneak out to meet Lucas. Our relationship is a secret — for many reasons.

First, our fathers are estranged over some old betrayal involving business and trust, which sours any chance of open acceptance.

Second, Lucas works in the palace and has a strict curfew — if he’s caught out past ten, he risks losing his job. So meeting me at midnight means sneaking around under the cover of darkness.

Third, his mother dislikes me intensely. I’ve never understood why, despite my efforts to be kind and polite whenever we cross paths.

But despite the obstacles, we’ve been together for a year now. I met him when I was eighteen, and a year later, he asked me out. This chapter of my life is short but fiercely cherished.

I’m Evelyn, twenty years old, balancing life between Cherie and the bustling restaurant, caught between my heart and the rigid social divides of Zariya.

Cherie — the sweet little boutique named after the French word for cherry — is my world, and this is my story.