#catradorable

If it weren’t for the soft chime of the bell above the door, Adora wouldn’t have heard her next customers come in. Because one moment, she’s bent over behind the counter, putting away fabric samples, and the next, the bell chimes—and when she stands, two people have swept into the shop and now stand in front of the counter, arm in arm. The face of the smaller figure is covered by a thin black veil, but Adora can feel the weight of their gaze even through it. For a moment, they all stand still, watching each other, and then the taller one lifts the veil for the smaller, revealing first playfully smiling lips, and then cheeks freckled over and bronzed by the sun, and then bright shining eyes. And it isn’t until that moment, when Adora sees the ruby sitting at the hollow of her throat, that she realizes just who she’s looking at.

“Lord C’yra! Chancellor Dolos! What—good morning—how may I help you?”

Lord C’yra and Chancellor Dolos share twin playful grins between them, then turn back to Adora, who is sure her cheeks are burning. “We’re here to try your wares, darling,” Chancellor Dolos says. After sparing Adora a long glance, Lord C’yra turns away and begins to peruse the store, and Chancellor Dolos leans against the counter, observing Adora with that same playful smile still flirting with their lips.

“I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for,” Adora manages to say.

The smile only grows, and Chancellor Dolos laughs a little as they say, “Oh, we will.”

For some reason, Adora gets the feeling that they’re not just talking about clothes. Before she can even start to think of what to say, Chancellor Dolos pushes themself away from the counter with another wink thrown Adora’s way. “Don’t worry about assisting us, darling. We’ll call if we need.”

“Okay,” Adora manages to stammer, and after another long moment, Chancellor Dolos joins Lord C’yra, speaking to her quietly enough that Adora can’t hear. She does, however, notice the looks they keep giving her, like she is a piece of a puzzle to be figured out. But they are nobles, and Adora is...not, so she leaves them be, keeping her hands busy organizing the fabric samples and pins to keep them from trembling. There have never been nobles in any of the shops at lower Bright Moon, let alone nobles of Chancellor Dolos and Lord C’yra’s status. Why are they here, when they could undoubtedly get much more high-quality clothes at upper Bright Moon?

“Adora, darling,” Chancellor Dolos calls out then, “come here, please?”

Adora immediately drops the measuring tool she’d been nervously wringing and unwringing, scrambling over to the two nobles, who have stopped in front of a deep red velvet riding jacket.

“What do you think, darling? Wouldn’t this look absolutely stunning on our kitten?”

Adora opens her mouth to disagree, but as she looks at Lord C’yra, really taking in all of  the smooth lines and gentle curves of her body, she finds herself pausing. Because as unconventional as it would be, Adora thinks it just might work.

“Well?”

Adora startles and somehow manages to tear her gaze away from Lord C’yra’s tiny, tiny waist long enough to say, “Yes, I—I think it might work. It would be unorthodox, but...I think it would be beautiful, if it were you.”

“Hear that, kitten? It would be beautiful on you.”

Lord C’yra ignores Chancellor Dolos entirely, instead stepping forward and clasping both of Adora’s hands in hers. “Would you tailor it for me, please?”

Adora nods, struck mute by the softness of her hands and the earnest light in her eyes. “Of course, Lord—”

“Darling, call us by our names. We’ve no need for formalities here.”

“But—!”

“No buts, Adora. You will call us by our names, and we will call you by yours. Okay?”

Obediently, however hesitantly, Adora nods and murmurs, “Yes—Dolos.”

“She’s obedient too!” C’yra practically coos, and though Adora is sure that the words are aimed at Dolos, C’yra keeps her gaze—now a little mischievous, now a little predatory—on Adora. “How very rare!”

Adora feels her cheeks begin to heat up at the praise despite how casually it was thrown out, and as if sensing her distress, Dolos places a gentle hand on C’yra’s hip to get her attention. “Do play nice, kitten. You know she’s not used to your teasing.”

C’yra pouts, but obediently drops Adora’s hands and tosses her hair over her shoulder before crossing her arms. “You’re usually much more fun, you know. Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts?”

“Never, kitten. I just think you should take your time for once.”

C’yra rolls her eyes and gives Adora a look that goes right over her head. And C’yra must see that, because her expression softens into something fond and endeared before she grabs for her hand again. “Come, you can take my measurements now.” And without waiting for an answer, C’yra begins to drag Adora to the back fitting rooms.

Once they’re alone, Adora begins to go through the motions of getting everything ready as C’yra observes herself in the mirrors. “When I go to the ball, how do you think I should wear my hair?”

Adora glances over to offer an offhand answer, and finds herself struck mute at the sight of C’yra’s reflection cast back at her. C’yra is watching her through the mirror, holding her hair up and away from her face, and to imagine her with it all pulled back in a delicate braid—and that with the riding jacket—makes her cheeks begin to flush.

“I—I think a braid would look nice, C’yra.”

A pleased smile spreads across C’yra’s lips and she nods, clearly quite pleased with herself. “Thank you, Adora.”

And then she turns back and stands on the low pedestal, waiting for Adora to come over to help her undress. For a noble, Adora realizes up close, C’yra’s clothes are rather plain—all she wears now is a black dress braided through with threads in a deep red shade. It matches the ruby still sitting at her throat, and one of C’yra’s hands flutters to it to hold it protectively before Adora can even think to remove the necklace too.

When the riding jacket settles over C’yra’s body, Adora is surprised and pleased to find that it fits surprisingly well. C’yra seems happy too, and even though it does need to be taken in a bit around her waist, Adora could see her wearing it just a tad bit loose as well. Though...the idea of C’yra, in proper, close-fitting men’s clothes...it makes Adora have to look away, hoping that by the time C’yra notices that she isn’t looking, her blush will fade.

“You know, you never asked what this is for,” C’yra calls out after a few moments. When Adora turns around, her chalk and measuring tool in hand, C’yra has turned around to face her, and for perhaps the first time today, she looks oddly serious.

“What is it for, then?”

“We’re hosting a ball,” C’yra says, rather dismissively, “a masquerade. I wanted to have a...quieter weekend, but Dolos insisted we do something extravagant, and so here we are. I suppose it might be fun, once the night comes, but...can I tell you something?”

Adora hums under her breath as she marks the few spots where she’ll have to take the jacket in. She’s rather used to this, to listening to clients ramble on while she works, and it’s usually easy for her to tune them out, but there is something about C’yra’s voice that makes Adora need to listen, even though it is about balls and masquerades and all the things Adora will never experience.

“I’ve never liked all the fuss,” C’yra murmurs, “I go along with it, since Dolos adores the attention, but...I prefer the quiet, and spending nights with just a few others. It’s more intimate that way.”

Adora pauses, glances up at C’yra’s reflection, flushes again. “Is that so?”

“It is. And you, how would you spend your ideal night?”

A loaded question. How Adora would prefer to spend the nights is not something she can quite afford to do, but that is something C’yra would never understand. “I spend most of my nights here. It’s comforting, when it’s quiet, and it feels good to...to organize everything, and make sure everything in the shop is running smoothly. I like to do things with my hands, to help people. And...this does.”

“But is that your ideal night?”

“If I could...I suppose I would prefer to spend a night with someone I love. Perhaps sitting together by a fireplace, with a meal we made together. Something simple like that.”

“And is there some—”

“I’m done here,” Adora interrupts. She knows what C’yra was going to ask, and really, definitely does not want to go into that. Not with someone she met just that morning, not with a client, not with anyone but Bow and Glimmer. For a moment, C’yra’s reflection looks startled, but her expression smooths over into something infinitely sweeter, something knowing.

“Of course. Didn’t mean to impose, truly.”

“It’s not you, our kitten is just a little bit impatient, isn’t she?”

Adora nearly jumps a foot in the air at the sound of Dolos’s voice coming from behind her, and turns to find them leaning in the doorway, twirling a lock of hair around their finger as they grin, almost sharklike, at her. “Did I startle you, darling?”

“I’d jump if I had to look at you,” C’yra drawls, and this time when Adora jumps, it is because she realizes that C’yra is only in her undergarments. Before she can move to cover C’yra, Dolos laughs, shaking their head in amusement.

“Don’t bother, darling. Who do you think laces up her corsets?”

C’yra heaves a long sigh, shaking her head. “It’s true...I wish I could say otherwise, but this is nothing they haven’t seen before.”

“Oh, you say that as if I haven’t seen it all—and many times at that, kitten.”

Adora feels her cheeks begin to flush again at the insinuation, but before she can open her mouth to speak, C’yra turns fully to Dolos, both hands on her hips. “Stop teasing her, either make yourself useful or leave us.”

With a labored sigh, Dolos unhitches themself from the wall and obediently comes closer, fetching C’yra’s clothes and helping dress her again. Adora tries not to stare at the way their hands linger on her skin, tries not to think about the implications of this and everything they’ve said, and still finds that a jolt runs through her and shivers down her spine when she glances into the mirror and finds both C’yra and Dolos looking right back. Their hands are on her hips—clothed, now—and C’yra has softened into the touch so much that she’s leaning fully into them.

What it means, Adora still doesn’t know, but—

“Ah, we’ll take our leave now. Take your time with kitten’s jacket, she really doesn’t need another one.”

“I’ll have it done as soon as I can,” Adora promises, and she feels her heart swell at the twin smiles she receives in turn. The genuinity in their expressions makes her want to...to do everything she can to please them, and the thought sends another shudder down her spine.

With a low little chuckle, Dolos offers C’yra their arm and throws Adora a conspiratorial wink. “We’ll see ourselves out.”