"Come on, you know you deserve it," Steve said, nudging her side with a grin.
Tonya raised an eyebrow, watching Steve as he radiated a heartful grin. Her lips pressed into a reluctant smile. She didn't say anything, just let him continue.
"And… we have thirty pieces left..." he added, counting his fingers dramatically.
"...Thirty silver pieces... that's… that's enough. You can get… you can get the right dress with that, most definitely."
He held her gaze like a salesman pitching a dream.
"Come on. You deserve to treat yourself. And… it's not like you wanted to be here anyway. You might as well go get yourself a gift. You deserve it."
She narrowed her eyes slightly, squinting at him like she could see through his intentions.
"Hmm...valid argument...but...You're not going to use this and blackmail me or something, are you?" she asked, giving him a look—half suspicious, half amused.
He shrugged innocently, lips twitching.
"Who? Me? No. Never."
But in his mind, his thoughts grinned differently.
'Never say never… hehe.'
Tonya sighed and looked away, clearly fighting off a smile. She shook her head, muttering under her breath.
"Alright, fine. Let's get this over with," she said, extending one leg as she stepped forward. There was a quiet playfulness to her expression, even as her tone pretended annoyance.
"Alright then."
Steve adjusted, still as innocent as ever and then, following that, they made their way across the uneven market path toward the clothing merchant, and in no time, they arrived there.
The place wasn't much. Just a wide tent store along the row of clustered stalls, with cloths of different colors hanging from hooks and flapping in the breeze. Some were fancy and rich-looking, others plain and forgettable. But all were lined and stacked in a way that made the stall look full of life.
Behind the table stood a giant of a man. Thick arms, broad chest, and a beard that looked like it had swallowed a forest.
His face was… not what you'd call attractive. His features were squashed like dough, his cheeks pulled close like someone had tried to squeeze his head from both sides. It made you wince if you looked too long.
Tonya leaned closer to Steve and whispered.
"Why does his face look like what a lemon would do to your mouth?"
Steve stifled a laugh.
"That's exactly why they call him Lemon." he whispered back.
Lemon, as he was famously known, didn't seem to mind. If anything, he had leaned into the name with pride. It had once sounded like an insult, but now it rolled off tongues like a badge of honor.
Lemon, holding a wooden cup of what smelled like wine—or vinegar—looked up and saw them.
"Tonya! Steve!" he bellowed, his smile stretching too far for comfort.
"I don't see you two here often. What can I get you?"
Tonya gave a small nod, lips curled up.
"We just had a little change from shopping. Wanted to get ourselves something nice."
She tilted her head and asked.
"So, what do you have for us?"
Lemon raised one brow.
"Eh… depends. What's your budget?"
Tonya reached into the small leather ubilla strapped to her side and pulled out a bag that jingled lightly. She opened it and revealed the modest pile of coins.
"We have twenty pieces." she said calmly.
'Hmm?...Ohh...That's smart, a good way to save some extra coins for later.' Steve Thought as he took a short glance at Tonya.
Lemon's mouth twisted, his already squished face somehow managing to fold further. His lips tightened.
"That's not really gonna do you much." he said, letting out a hum.
"Maybe try opening your budget a little more."
Tonya folded her arms.
"That's the best you can do? Can't you get us a discount or something?"
"I'm already giving you the discount price." Lemon replied dryly.
Steve stepped forward with a smooth grin.
"Come on, Lemon. This is just a single dress. Just give her something pretty. The lady deserves it."
Lemon squinted at Tonya, his brows drooping heavily.
"Steve… Steve…" he muttered.
"It's not like I don't have the dress. I just don't think it's gonna be exactly what you're looking for."
Without waiting for a reply, Lemon turned and moved toward the back, his wide figure swaying as he reached for one of the shelves.
Tonya looked at Steve and raised a brow.
They followed him inside the stall, where the inner section had more rows of fabric and clothes. Neatly folded pieces sat on the tables, while some hung on ropes with wooden pins.
The lighting was soft and dim, mostly sunlight breaking through the cloth of the tent.
As they walked through the section, Tonya ran her fingers along a row of folded gowns. Her voice came quietly.
"Extra large…"
She turned to Steve with a narrowed gaze.
"That's my size."
Steve raised both hands.
"Alright, alright, I know." He smiled a little.
'Of course I know. But I've got something else in mind…'
As they browsed, Steve's eyes caught a certain dress. He reached forward and pulled it off the rack carefully.
It was simple, but finely crafted. No sugar strings, no unnecessary glitter.
The color was soft—milk white, with faint silver trims that gave it a light shimmer under the sunlight. The cut was neat, with a gentle waistline and soft curves. It was the kind of thing you imagined a graceful woman slipping into, then stealing all attention in the room without trying.
Steve looked at the dress.
'This would look amazing on her....If only it was for her...hehe.'
He turned to Tonya.
"This would look good on you."
She blinked, then stepped forward and saw the price tag. Her face stiffened.
"Drop it. It's too expensive. We can't afford it."
Steve didn't flinch.
"I already know that. But that doesn't mean we can't try it on, right?"
Tonya gave him a questioning look.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"It's free trial...just try it on." he said, stuttering as he tossed the dress gently toward her.
She caught it, the fabric soft in her hands. She looked at it again, then flicked her eyes back to him.
Steve just stood there with the softest, most innocent smile painted across his lips.
"Come on. Just try it on. Just to know how it feels."
She hesitated.
"Gross…" she muttered under her breath, but her cheeks said otherwise. Her eyes darted again to the fabric. Her fingers curled tighter around it.
"Alright." she finally said.
Turning away, she walked toward the dressing room with the dress in hand.
Steve leaned back, crossing his arms over the clothes table, a devilish glint in his eyes.
'Heh. Let's see how this goes…' A soft maniacal chuckle slipped from his lips as he slowly pulled out a small black notebook from his side pouch—the author's notebook.
With a quiver in hand, he scribbled in quick strokes, eyes glinting with amusement.
"While Tonya tries on the expensive attire, she pays no attention to how small the waist size looked to her, the dress gets stuck halfway as she dresses up and this leaves her completely still and helpless as she can't wear the dress or take it off, and with only a few thoughts…she has no other option in mind but to call...player for aid to get her unstuck."
***
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