Lys took a deep breath and walked the few steps to the neighbor’s hut. The small yard between their homes was quiet, with only the soft rustle of dry grass under his feet. He stopped in front of the worn wooden door and knocked gently, three light taps.

  He waited.

  Inside, he heard soft footsteps. The door creaked open without her asking who it was.

  The young woman stood there, one hand still on the edge of the door.

  Lys’s breath caught for a moment.

  She was prettier than he had expected from a distance. Long, dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders, slightly messy from the morning wind, with a few strands sticking to her pale cheeks. Her face was delicate, soft, heart-shaped, with large, expressive brown eyes that looked both tired and gentle. Her lips were dry, but still naturally pink; they were pressed together in surprise. She had a quiet, fragile beauty, the kind that came from someone who had never been spoiled by fine clothes or easy days.

  Her dress was old and faded, the fabric thin from years of washing and mending. It hung loosely on her slender body, patched at the elbows and hem, but it couldn’t hide the graceful curve of her neck, the gentle swell of her breasts, or the narrow waist that flared into softly rounded hips. She looked like a girl who had grown up too fast, carrying burdens far heavier than her delicate shoulders should bear.

  When she saw Lys standing there, her eyes widened. She froze completely, lips parting in silent shock. For several long seconds, she just stared at him, as if she couldn’t believe someone had actually knocked on her door.

  Lys spoke first, keeping his voice gentle and friendly.

  “Hi… I’m Lys. I live right next door.”

  She still didn’t speak. Her fingers tightened on the door, knuckles turning a little white.

  He continued, offering a small, warm smile. “My family and I were thinking… would you like to come over for lunch today? We made a bit extra, and we thought it would be nice to have you join us.”

  She blinked slowly. Her lips moved, but it took her a few moments to find her voice.

  “…Why?” she asked quietly. Her voice was soft and a little hoarse, like she didn’t use it often.

  Lys paused. He hadn’t prepared a fancy answer. He rubbed the back of his neck, keeping it honest.

  “Uhh, I don’t know,” he said with a small shrug. “We just felt like it. My mom saw you carrying water earlier and mentioned how hard you work alone. We have made extra food, so… why not join us for a grab?”

  She looked at him for a long, searching moment. Her big brown eyes studied his face carefully, as if trying to understand if this was some kind of joke. There was a quiet loneliness in her expression, mixed with a flicker of surprise and something almost hopeful.

  She glanced down at her old, faded dress, then back at him.

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  Another long pause.

  Then she gave a small, hesitant nod.

  “…Okay.”

  Lys’s face brightened with a genuine smile. “Great. We’ll wait for you at lunchtime. Around noon?”

  She nodded again, still staring at him like she wasn’t sure this was really happening.

  He took a small step back. “Alright. See you then.”

  She didn’t reply. She just stood there, watching him quietly as he turned and walked back to his own house.

  Lys felt a strange mix of warmth and nervousness as he stepped inside his house. He had no idea if she would actually come, but at least he had tried.

  Behind him, the neighbor’s door closed softly with a quiet creak.

  -----

  The moment Lys closed the door, Elara looked up from the table where she was sorting fresh vegetables.

  “So?” she asked with a gentle smile. “Did Mitsu agree to come?”

  Lys nodded, smiling back. “Yeah. She said okay.”

  Elara’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s wonderful! Poor girl hardly ever leaves her house. It’ll be nice to have her here for once.”

  Mira, who was already washing some potatoes in a basin, turned around with excitement. “She actually said yes? That’s great! We don’t have much time, though, it’s almost noon already!”

  Elara clapped her hands together. “You’re right. Come on, Mira, we need to hurry. Let’s make something simple but good. We have fresh bread, vegetables, and that little bit of meat we bought. I’ll start the stew. You chop the carrots.”

  The two women moved quickly around the small space, chatting happily as they prepared the meal. The hut soon filled with the comforting smell of cooking food and the sound of their light chatter.

  Lys watched them for a moment, feeling a quiet happiness. This was exactly what he wanted: his family smiling, busy, and looking forward to something good.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he said, heading toward the door.

  Mira glanced up from the cutting board. “Where are you going now?”

  “Just to the market. I need to get something. Won’t take long.”

  Elara didn’t ask questions. She just nodded with a soft smile. “Alright, honey. Come back before lunch.”

  Lys stepped outside and walked straight to the village market. The morning crowd was thinning out as people headed home. After asking around, he found the only clothing shop in the village, a small, dusty place squeezed between a bakery and a tool stall.

  He stepped inside. The shopkeeper, an older man with a thin mustache, was sitting behind the counter, lazily sorting some fabric. He barely glanced up when Lys entered.

  Lys walked around slowly, looking at the simple hats, boots, and dresses hanging on wooden racks. Most were plain and roughly made.

  After a minute, he spoke up.

  “Excuse me,” Lys said politely. “Can you make clothes if the customer wants something specific? Like custom size and style?”

  The shopkeeper finally looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Lys. He stood up slowly and came around the counter.

  “Custom orders?” he said, his voice a little gruff. “Yeah, I can do that. But it costs more than buying what’s already here. Quite a bit more. Can you afford it, lad?”

  Lys didn’t say anything at first. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a single gold coin. He held it up between his fingers so the shopkeeper could see it clearly.

  The man’s eyes widened. A greedy smile slowly spread across his face.

  “Well now… that changes things,” he said, his tone suddenly much friendlier seeing the coin. “Come with me to the back. We can take your measurements properly there.”

  He led Lys through a curtain to a small inner courtyard behind the shop. It was shaded and private, with a wooden stool in the center.

  “Stand here,” the shopkeeper said, pulling out a long measuring tape. “Arms out. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

  Lys stood still as the man measured his shoulders, chest, arms, waist, and legs with quick, professional movements. The shopkeeper muttered numbers to himself while writing them down on a small piece of cloth with charcoal.

  “Hmm, Decent build,” the man commented. “Not too tall, but strong enough. What kind of clothes are you thinking of? Something simple for daily wear, or something finer?”

  Lys thought for a moment. “Something simple but good quality. For everyday use, but it should be much better than what I have now. Also, another set of finer quality for occasions.”

  The shopkeeper nodded, still taking measurements around his chest. “I can do that. It’ll take a few days, but it’ll be worth it.”

  He finished the last measurement around Lys’s wrist and stepped back, rolling up the tape.

  “There. All done.”

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