17: Out Shopping
Lilith finished breakfast in a flurry, pecking at it like a startled sparrow.
The Little White Dragon was woozy; she couldn’t recall how the last sip of milk slipped down. When she came to, she was dressed and standing on Lamter’s street, salt air brushing her cheeks.
She still wore that white little dress today, but the blue-and-white cloak she usually threw over it stayed at the inn. She hugged her bare, slim arms, shy as a fawn, and tried to tuck her whole little dragon self behind Nidhogg.
Without the cloak’s protection, not only her slender arms showed; Lilith’s long pale legs caught the sun like porcelain. Nidhogg, feeling the day’s heat like a low kiln, figured a White Dragon who loved cold and hated heat wouldn’t want to be swaddled. She put only white ankle socks on Lilith, planning to swap them for airy sandals once they hit the shopping street.
Lilith’s fine tail had nowhere to hide either. The slim white tail that usually hid in her clothes was out in open air, writhing like a shut-in dragged under ballroom lights, coiling like a nervous inchworm.
Seeing the Little White Dragon couldn’t bear that bare look, Nidhogg borrowed a big straw hat from Mio and plopped it onto her head, shading Lilith’s rosy cheeks like a parasol.
Then she tied a blue ribbon behind the little dragon. The sash wrapped her waist and bloomed into a big bow, fluttering in Lamter’s salty wind and blazing sun, so the girl wrapped in it looked less like a tourist dragon and more like an angel fresh from heaven.
“Very cute,” Nidhogg said once she’d finished dressing the Little White Dragon. “Need me to put on sunscreen?”
“No!” Lilith couldn’t handle Nidhogg’s hands roaming her skin. The moment the Black Dragon drew close, last night’s awful dream rose like steam—the wicked Black Dragon wandering over her and whispering shameful words in her ear.
The Little White Dragon shook her head to scatter the haze. She squeezed a dab of white sunscreen onto her tender skin, smoothed it with soft pale hands, then patted gently, like dew sinking into petals.
Luckily, she wasn’t tall, so it didn’t take long, like a cloud sliding past the sun.
Nidhogg didn’t idle either. She dressed heavy today: a white shirt under a sun jacket, high-waisted black skinnies below. The clean lines made her tall frame even longer, a tower beside a sapling; those long pale legs seemed longer than Lilith as a whole dragon. She wore heels too, as if afraid Lilith wouldn’t look short enough beside her.
Already sun-proofed, she crouched with Abaddon—the little demon didn’t need sunscreen—and they started kneading Litt’s face like dough. The little Fragment’s chubby cheeks squished into a bun, and she giggled; then she grabbed a handful of sunscreen and went splat across Abaddon’s face.
“Alright, don’t waste it.” Lilith couldn’t watch anymore. She finished with her own sunscreen, walked over, and pinned Litt’s flailing hands. “Let’s go. Give it a minute and the sun will turn mean.”
“Yeah, we’re a bit late,” Nidhogg said, standing and taking Abaddon’s hand. “Lamter’s packed with tourists. If we don’t hurry, the clothing shops will be jammed.”
Lilith scooped Litt into her arms and followed the Black Dragon. They slipped out of the inn and flowed into the sunlit street, Nidhogg guiding them toward the shopping district.
“Mama, why are we buying clothes?” Litt tucked into the Little White Dragon’s arms and asked in a daze.
“Because someone wants to buy me new clothes,” Lilith answered, grievance hanging over her tone like a cloud over the moon.
“Why buy clothes for Mama? Does Litt get some too?” Litt wasn’t happy with that answer and kept chasing it.
“Ask her. It wasn’t my idea,” Lilith said, pointing her tail—twisting in the sun—at Nidhogg ahead. “But if you see something you like, I’ll get it for you.”
“Litt, let me ask you.” Nidhogg heard them. She slowed, came to Lilith’s side, and asked the little Fragment softly, “Do you think your mom looks pretty today?”
“Pretty! Mama is the prettiest girl in the world!” The little Fragment threw up her tiny fists, her small face lit with love like a lantern.
Thin-skinned as paper, the Little White Dragon couldn’t take that praise. She couldn’t bring herself to cover Litt’s mouth, so she hid her eyes under her fringe and the straw brim, leaving cheeks so red they looked like they could bleed.
Nidhogg was amused by the sight. She smiled and went on, “Was Mama cute yesterday too?”
“Also cute. Mama’s always cute.” The little Fragment tilted her head, rummaging through her small brain. She remembered Lilith’s petite form wrapped in a blue cloak, then nodded hard and beamed. “Just a different kind of cute!”
“Exactly. Since Lilith wore different clothes yesterday and today, we get different, adorable Liliths.” Nidhogg kept coaxing the naive Divine Fragment like a fox with sugar. Lilith heard the snare in that smooth voice, but Litt looked over the moon. At the bright smile and those soft, soft “Mama”s, Lilith’s temper melted like snow, and she let Litt drift to Nidhogg’s camp.
Turns out, after getting a daughter, the real hassle isn’t childcare. It’s fending off people who use the girl to get their hands on you.
“Litt understands!” The little one’s heart had clearly picked Nidhogg’s side, eager to see her cute, tiny mother in all kinds of cute outfits. Knowing Litt had defected, Lilith turned pleading eyes to the little demon at her side, hoping for rescue from those two pairs of claws.
“I, too, take interest in Lamter’s attire,” Abaddon said, voice prim as a bell. “I shall see what beautiful garments there are. Lilith, please try clothes with me.” The little demon’s merciless words shattered Lilith’s last hope like ice under a heel. Then it hit the Little White Dragon: the little demon was, at core, a ten-year-old girl. Of course she liked pretty skirts. She’d be lucky if she didn’t turn Lilith into a dress-up doll; how could she expect a timely rescue?
“Just accept your fate.” Nidhogg produced a small cloth pouch from nowhere. Lilith knew that pouch. It was a magic bag sold in the Dragon Territory that could only store inorganics. Its space was scary huge, a sky stuffed inside a thimble. “I came prepared. Today, our goal is to pick enough clothes to fill a third of this.”
“H-how much?” Half the color drained from Lilith’s face. Eyes wide, she lunged and grabbed the pouch. “I’m still growing. In a few days I’ll outgrow what we buy today. Buying more is a waste!”
“Exactly because you’re growing fast, I’m only buying a third of a bag,” Nidhogg said, dead serious. “Once your figure settles, we’ll fill the rest to the brim.”
“Th-then what do we do with today’s clothes?” Lilith stammered.
“Heh-heh.” Nidhogg’s grin turned wicked. Lilith swallowed. Whenever Nidhogg smiled like that, trouble followed like a shadow. What now?
“I prepared this.” Nidhogg pulled out a hefty… camera.
“This is a key season for your growth. I’m recording every day, then I’ll make a whole album and mail it to Lady Tartarus,” she said, words like a 4 a.m. December wind, freezing Lilith’s beating heart into an ice sculpture. “Oh, right. Teacher Fafnir and Ms. Asterios each asked me for a copy.”
“They… all want one?” Lilith echoed, blank.
“Yeah.” Nidhogg nodded. “They said caring for their student—ah, Lady Tartarus said ‘daughter’—is their duty. Since I’m by your side, Teacher Fafnir sent me a letter, asking me to record your growth. So don’t dodge it. Orders from above.”
“What if I don’t want photos?” Lilith tried one last wriggle.
“I’m not sure, but Teacher Fafnir definitely won’t let you graduate,” Nidhogg said, her mouth warm as body heat, voicing the coldest line on earth. “Or she’ll dress you herself in what she likes. I should warn you—Teacher Fafnir’s favorites tend to be… revealing.”
“Forget it, I’ll wear them. Just take me to the boutique.” Lilith answered blankly. In the end, she chose to yield.
