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“Can I get another sandwich?” Mero asked. The heat of the alcohol on her cheeks was an obvious show to Kimihito of her dipping restraint. 

“Hmm? Yeah, sure thing,” Kimihito said. He got up from the table and made his way to the pantry, taking out the bread.

Behind him, he could hear Miia whisper. “You already had two, you want more?”

“Isn’t that your sixth?” Mero responded.

“Oh you shut up,” Miia countered, “Eat your dang soup.”

Kimihito made his way to the stove. He flicked on the burner before going to the fridge and withdrawing the cheese and the butter, as well as the chopped tuna. He scowled at their meager supplies. “I’m gonna need to go out to the shop after this,” he said over his shoulder. “We need some groceries.”

“We’re gonna go out too!” Miia exclaimed. “Mero needs to pick up some new clothes, right Mero?”

“Hey, I didn’t have that many sandwiches yet,” the pink haired mermaid languidly retorted.

Miia laughed loudly, sounding heavily strained. Kimihito turned around just in time to see her clamp Mero on the head with a clawed hand. “You can be really funny when you drink!” she expressed.

Mero made a wry face as Miia smothered her fingers in her long pink hair. She exhaled a pathetic noise, annoyance bubbling underneath her face. “Quit it!” she deplored.

Kimihito smiled. Miia’s wore her new silk sweater tightly, and it came down partway down her tail. The red and black mixed in a very appealing way, making her pale skin look like moonlight against the swirling glyphs of dark material, while the red clung close to create the sense of scales. Her forearms were entirely black, with little swirls at the elbow where it turned into a paler color, causing it to seem almost as if she wore a pair of fine long gloves.

Overall, she wore the outfit with a sense of confidence that made it seem familiar and comfortable. She certainly looked giddy when she caught him looking at her. She raised a hand over the curve of her breast and flashed her fang at him along with a wink.

He swallowed and turned back to what he was doing. “Well, where will you two go? The mall?”

“Mero said there’s this nice shop in town that her mom sends her to called Liminal Bodyworks. It specializes in dresses and skirts for members of the exchange program.” She sounded excited.

“Ya know, it didn’t even occur to me that the mall wouldn’t have the right clothes,” he said. He flipped the sandwich over on the stove, and it sizzled in the healthy heap of melted butter.

Mero slurped at her soup. “We’re also going to stop by Polt’s gym and ask about gym memberships.”

“You are?” Kimihito raised an eyebrow.

“We are?!” Miia’s voice cracked.

The man could just keep from chuckling at the alarm in Miia’s voice. Clearly, this hadn’t been discussed between the pair. He looked Miia over as the panic rapidly set in, while Mero judiciously nodded. “We are,” the mermaid said. Then unexpectedly, she pinched her waist. “I haven’t gone swimming in months,” she revealed. “Even your tub had me tired after a simple bath.”

Kimihito looked her over again, and for the first time, he actually was making note of her appearance. Mero’s waist was no longer firm, her abs had faded away and her ribs no longer showed. She didn’t look that much heavier, but she was certainly softer, and given how things happened to Miia... “Why haven’t you been swimming?” he asked. He turned the oven off and brought the skillet to the table, scooping the food out onto her plate.

She took a final swallow, taking down the last drops of wine. “Without Miia at the house, the cultural committee downgraded the size of our bathroom. Not to mention none of us are about to be ‘the first ever monster-human marriage’ anymore.” She sighed, “We’re just not on the radar anymore.” Kimihito grimaced while she took a bite of her fresh sandwich. “Between being the Maid of Honor and trying to find some way to support the house other than just Mother sending more money, I haven’t had the time to stop in for a swim.”

Kimihito had returned to his seat at the head of the table, though Miia was now fretting over her best friend. “I-I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think it’d get so busy…”

Mero smirked at her. “I know you didn’t, you weren’t the one meeting with the centaur councilor because,” she made her voice deeper and held her hands out over her chest, “‘This wedding doesn’t have nearly enough vegan options for the number of guests who’ll attend’.” Mero finished by sticking out her tongue and blowing a firm raspberry on it.

Miia broke into a fit of giggles. “Did she really say that?” she asked.

Mero nodded, the drunken blush swelling on her cheeks. “Yes,” she spoke heatedly. “She wanted me to have the meat cart have a competing vegetable cart, and then they could measure which one had less at the end of the night as some dietary needs survey.”

Kimihito snorted. “We ran out of meat, didn’t we?”

Mero’s grin turned on the happy couple. “No, actually. If I recall, you two took home quite a few portions, didn’t you?”

Miia stiffened, and Kimihito snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah!” he remembered. Then, flicking his wife’s belly, “Miia ate the rest of it.”

She spun on him. “H-hey!” she defended, “You helped!”

He reached out, stroking her tail. It rose into his hands, and he laid it across his lap. “That’s right, angel.” And to Mero, “I helped feed it to her.”

Her tail spun round the back of his chair. He only just managed to start his laugh before his wife’s oversized tail squeezed hard enough to crack his ribs.

******************************************************************************

Even beneath her long, comfy sweater, Miia was still shivering. The cold sapped energy from the cold-blooded girl, making it hard to move and even harder to focus. She could hardly hold onto Mero’s guiding chair as the mermaid led her down the bare city streets. The concrete felt as if it were covered in frost on her skin, and she was uncomfortably aware of how even her casual slither now caused her tummy to bounce up and down inside of the tight spider silk.

The two made light conversation as they continued down the street. Miia could hardly focus on what Mero was saying. It was something about her Mother, Queen Lorelei. The snake-woman’s mind was distracted, clamped onto the exertion she could feel spreading over her body. Her tail felt heavier, long stretches of muscle burning unpleasantly. Her arms ached with the chill, her cheeks felt bitten by the gentle breeze, and she was having problems keeping air in her chest.

By the time they’d reached the financial district, Miia was softly panting. Breathing through her mouth, she pulled in each bite of air before it quickly followed out through her nose. She looked up the tall buildings on either side of the street. Retailers, clothing stores, even a few food places. She found herself looking over a hot chocolate stand when Mero reached up, taking her hand.

“It’s right around this corner,” she said.

Miia nodded, letting the electric motor pull her along behind. The rounded the street, passing by a small café where a pair of mermaids sat outside at a table. They apparently had recognized Mero, even with her tail hidden beneath her long gothic dress and raised their cups to her. One of them, a blonde girl with scarlet eyes and a ripped scar across her cheek, spoke up. “Morning, Princess,” she said.

Miia saw the girl had a mouth filled with sharp teeth, and her tail seemed softer than scales, made of cartilage. Mero raised a hand in greeting, giving a pleasant wave.

After they passed, Miia bent over the chair. “Did you know those girls?” Miia asked.

“No,” Mero replied, shaking her head.

“Well, they obviously know you.” Miia glanced back over her shoulder.

“Yes, which is a bit disquieting. Not many know I’ve taken up residence here.” Mero paused before going on, “I suppose it’s just happenstance. The shop does specialize in extra-species materials, after all, even for shark mermaids.”

A lightbulb sparkled in Miia’s tiring brain. She’d never seen a shark mermaid before. 

The bright cerulean building hung partway down the lane. A department store stacked into multiple floors, separating itself from the other buildings by displaying a pair of pink seashells intermittently along the outbound wall. 

They passed a couple of display windows, including one which caused Miia to double take. It depicted a winged mannequin standing upon the edge of a very tall building, looming menacingly. The model wore a cute yellow and red tube top with a pleated white skirt.

“They make clothes for all sorts of the liminal races here,” Mero said. “They do for humans too, but they’re not as popular.”

Miia looked the feminine figure over. “Is that a gargoyle?” she asked.

Mero’s smile spread wide. “That’s a mannequin.”

Miia scowled before letting her tongue flick over her lips in a hiss. 

The girls approached the front doors, which slid open to reveal a variety of colored clothing pilled in displays or hung up upon racks. There were also a variety of scenes set up with different extra-species mannequins modeling clothing, from dresses to exercise to sleepwear alike. 

Upon entering, Miia nearly melted beneath the blanket of hot air emanating from the heater above. She moaned in pleasure, tilting her head back and letting it flow down her neck. Her tail curled around her several times, forming an obtuse spool directly in front of the store’s door. Her hands skated down her waist, rubbing life back into her, and jiggling her tummy like mad.

“Miia!” Mero called from deeper inside.

Miia dismissed her, waving her arms before sticking her arms to either side beneath the fan, letting the air flow down her front.

A deep chuckle drew Miia’s attention, and she looked to see an immense black suit standing next to Mero’s chair. Her eyes trailed up the jacket, over the red and black tie, to behold the tan, smiling face of a gentleman ogre. He possessed short silver hair and a finely combed beard, with a single sharp black horn emerging from the center of his forehead. When he talked, his voice was as if he were speaking from inside of a cave, deep and seeming to cling to the air.

“You must be Meroune’s friend.” He withdrew a massive hand from behind his back, gesturing to Miia. “The woman who was married last month?”

Miia straightened her back and moved forth into the shop. “Hello,” she bade, taking his offered hand. He gently touched his thumb over her back of her hand, lowering it. “My name is Miia.” Then, remembering, “Miia Kurusu.” She fawned internally. It was the first time she’d introduced herself with her new name.

The ogre verbalized in his baritone voice, “I am Leviticus of Liguria, proprietor of Liminal Bodyworks. Welcome, Mrs. Kurusu.”

Butterflies danced in Miia’s belly, fluttering all the way up through her chest.

“Leviticus is exceptional with custom tailored clothing,” Mero conveyed. 

A gust of wind blew down from the mountain. Grinning, he claimed, “I like to believe I’m the best big and large tailor in town.”

Miia giggled politely. Mero, turning up to him, “We’re going to need a couple of outfits for her.”

He hummed as his eyes skated over Miia. Feeling as she did, she put a hand on her hip and grinned to his broad eyes, not even sucking in her tummy. “Will they all be finery?” he questioned her.

Miia glanced to Mero, who motioned for her to answer. “Umm,” she thought about it, “not really? I don’t need anything dressy. More just general day to day.”

Leviticus bobbed his head, before raising a bulky arm. “We have selections for casual clothing, business clothes, and on the third floor, a department solely for the latest in women’s fashion.” He turned back to Miia. “Do you know your measurements?”

Mero cleared her throat. Miia awkwardly chuckled, rubbing a hand through her hair. “I used to,” she said, lengthening each word. She’d learned while being fitted for wedding gowns that it’d be pointless to not give the tailor the full truth, he’d know just from looking. Maneuvering her hands, she tapped her fingers together in front of her. “I’ve, uhh… gained a couple pounds since my wedding.”

Leviticus reached a hand inside of his suit jacket. “I see. What had they been, to the best of your memory?” 

“Well,” she hung in the air, “I’m twenty-six feet long, that one I know for sure. My measurements had been,” her hands went to her bust, “86 centimeters, F cup,” then they dropped to her waist. “55,” before finally to her hips, “and 90.” 

Leviticus nodded, his mouth tugging up at the corner. From his jacket, he withdrew spoil of measuring tape. “I think it best that we take new measurements,” he said.

Miia blushed. “Yeah,” she admitted, huffing outward. Her hand cupped the bottom of her belly. 

“Shall we go to the fitting room?” he asked. “Or would the two of you like to shop around first?”

“Fitting room,” Miia and Mero agreed. Then Mero, “She’ll be needing some undergarments as well.”

Leviticus nodded. The group proceeded around the front desk and through a swinging partition, and through another into a lavish fitting area with seven different mirrors on the wall before them. 

Miia bounced over to the mirrors, admiring her reflection from the different angles. “Wow, remind me to thank Rachnera again for the sweater,” she complimented herself.

The ogre cleared his throat, “If you’d be so kind as to remove your sweater, we can get your fixings done right up.”

Miia’s expression fractured. She looked at herself in the mirror, then to the others. “I… I’m not wearing a bra underneath,” she cautioned.

Mero spoke up. “Leviticus is just a tailor, Miia.”

The old ogre chuckled. “You’re hardly the first who found they needed a new garment, and you won’t be the last. Still, if it makes you uncomfortable,” he turned to Mero, holding out the strip. “Would you mind?”

Mero looked to Miia. She shrugged, taking the tape. “It won’t be a problem,” she said. “We’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Leviticus nodded and made his way from the room. Once he was gone, Miia reached down to the floor and began to work the long sweater up.

Mero rolled closer in her chair. “You know, it wouldn’t mean anything to him to see you naked.”

Miia squirmed, pulling her garment over her belly and then finally her head. Her pudgy body sagged as the restrictive material finally came free. “I know,” she grumbled, “it’s just… I’d feel uncomfortable.” 

“Why? Mero asked.

Miia dropped the sweater on the ground next to her. She looked her body over, saw her pudge from ever angle. The smooth curves of her belly, how her figure tightened just before coming out again around her large breasts. She put a hand over herself protectively. “I want only Darling to see me like this,” she said, smiling at herself.

Mero dug a finger into Miia’s belly, making the lamia hop in a yelp. “What does that make me?” she asked lecherously, and Miia saw her eyes glazing up her back wearing a perverted smirk.

Miia puffed, “How much did you even drink?! Just take my measurements, stop being so weird.” 

Mero’s tail flicked up the bottom of her dress. Her flipped caught Miia on her tail, making a wet smack. “I’m not the one who’s asking my friends to see me naked,” she jibbed.

Her arms covered her breasts and she twisted to pout at Mero. “T-that’s not what I said!”

Mero raised her hands, then leaned forward with the tape. “That’s certainly how it looks to me,” she said. Her eyes opened, the aquamarines glittering deviously. 

Her chair was suddenly pulled forward, Miia’s tail jostling her in her seat. “Measure me, pervert,” she demanded. She snapped her eyes on her reflection while Mero readied the tape.

“Lower yourself a little,” Mero asked. “I can’t reach your bust from here.”

Miia scooted backward on her tail, bringing herself to just over five feet tall. Mero had to wrap the tape beneath the lamia’s long red hair to be accurate. She hopped forward in her chair to reach the right angle, putting the tape across each of Miia’s bare nipples. Her chest was squeezed ever so gently before Mero brought the tape around to its beginning.

Miia couldn’t help the slight resentment at the woman in the mirror. How had she let herself go so easily? She’d already gained way too much weight. She knew she’d gain a couple of pounds, but only a month in and she was already wishing for her body to plateau.

“Hmm,” Mero muttered. She let the tape loose before restarting the process, scooping Miia’s hair back.

“Hmm?” Miia asked.

“Hmm,” Mero affirmed. She righted the tape again, peering at the numbers. “95,” she informed. “And you’re a G cup, for sure.”

Miia groaned, her lard laden body sagging even further. “Oh, no… I’m bigger than my Mother.”

Mero giggled. “I could have told you that.”

Miia lightly knocked her on the back of the head with her tail while she proceeded to Miia’s waist. “I meant my boobs.” She stuck out her tongue at her reflection and let it hang, making a disgusted noise. She hadn’t thought about Mom in weeks. Not since she’d tossed her out of her life. 

Miia began to snort to herself, a cynical laugh ebbing from her middle. “Stop laughing,” Mero ordered, “I can’t measure your stomach.”

“Sorry,” Miia begrudged, still chuckling darkly. “I was just thinking, at least I know Mother would hate me being this heavy.”

Mero looked up from the line, into Miia’s reflection. “Oh?”

Miia nodded. “She always used to tell me that the only thing human men thought about was girls’ bodies,” Miia breathed deep. “If I were to bring a guy home, it’d be because I seduced him by being sexy.”

Mero dropped her gaze for a moment. “That’s not right,” she said.

“No,” Miia said, her hand falling down to the small break in her skin. She began to rub her thumb over the broken skin, knowing she shouldn’t pick at it. “It isn’t,” she went on. Then she laughed bitterly again, lifting her belly. “I got married, went on birth control, and got fat.”

Mero’s smile looked sad, yet sincere. “I bet she’s very proud,” she said.

“Who gives a damn what she thinks.” Miia sighed, putting her hands on her fleshy hips, pinching at the extra fat. “Can you just get on with it? I want to get something else I can wear besides this dumb sweater.”

Mero did so, tying the band around her waist. Easily, she came away with “76 centimeters.”

Miia grunted, like someone had slapped her in the gut. “That’s a double-digit size, isn’t it?” she asked.

Mero looked into her reflection sheepishly but said nothing. Instead, she slid the wire over Miia’s tummy, round the crest of her belly and coming beneath to her hips. She tightened it. “104.”

Miia moaned as if she’d tasted something sour. “You know, I used to fit into extra small.”

Mero tilted her head, again saying nothing.

Miia still looked at herself. Her pudgy body hung incorrigibly, yet she felt a grin tightening on her face. What she’d give to see what Mother thought of her now. The first ever lamia to be officially married to a human male, hogging him all to her chubby self.

“Come on,” she said to Mero with a delighted voice, feeling unexpectedly peppy. She scooped her sweater up from the floor, “let’s go find me a size 12 dress that I can rip open in another two weeks”

When they returned to the store, they found Leviticus nearby, folding a pile of dress shirts and setting them about the display. “Ah, ladies,” he said, placing another shirt on the pile. “How are things looking?”

“Great,” Miia beamed. “My new measurements are 95 G, 76, and 104.” She hugged her body cheerfully.

Leviticus chuckled. “I’m glad to see you’re so pleased.”

Miia averted her eyes, shrugging. “Well, can’t help it now, can I?”

“Oh, yes you can!” Mero proclaimed. “We’re gonna go to the gym right after this.”

Without a hint of irony, Miia asked, “Can we get hot chocolate first?”

Mero hesitated. “Yes, well, that sounds fine. Hot chocolate, and then the gym.”

The ogre made an amused noise, taking the measuring tape from Mero before bowing to the girls. “If there’s any way else I may serve you, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Miia looked about the store. “I was hoping to be shown your skirts section?” she asked. “I told Mero I’d need to get a size 12 skirt.”

Leviticus looked puzzled. “A size 12? Hmmm… With a 76 waist, and especially for your 100 plus hips, I would recommend a size 14 at minimum.”

Miia felt a shot of shock spread through her. “14?!” she roared, inflamed. “I was a 6!”

Leviticus shrugged. “Perhaps, but now it seems that you’d be most comfortable in a 14.”

Mero cringed. “You really don’t pull any punches, do you?”

Again, Leviticus shrugged his massive shoulders. “Fabric is fabric, it fits people differently, but it all comes back to the numbers in the end.”

Miia bristled, and she felt a shiver snake from her spine to the tip of her tail. “Yeah, okay,” she poked her tummy with an accusatory finger, “you’re getting a small hot chocolate.”

“Maybe we should skip hot chocolate?” Mero offered.

Miia waved her off. “Don’t be crazy, lets just get the darn clothes.” She swung her arms heatedly muttering to herself as she slithered away. “A size 14. I don’t believe this! I am going to kill him if he brings home those hot meat buns again.”

Mero was quick to hurry along behind her, careful to stay out of the wake of her impassioned tail.

******************************************************************************

Refreshing her wardrobe wasn’t cheap. In total, Miia was looking to spend 70,000 Yen on her purchase. Most of the materials were specifically made for lamia body types, which came with a premium price sticker in exchange for the additional insulation for the little warmth her body exuded to be held in tight for the colder atmosphere. 

Miia had collected two new G cup bras, a four pack of panties, a single black sports bra with a white workout skirt, a sports jacket, three different colored tank tops that paired with some form fitting skirts made of stretchy material, which Miia affectionately referred to as ‘the lamia equivalent of lazy pants’ with how they hugged her waist so tightly, two baby doll tops, which hugged her ribs and extended to a flare at the bottom to enhance the look of her hourglass shape, an off shoulder top that clung around Miia’s well endowed breasts that revealed the smoothness of her plump shoulders, and a single red crop top which only just covered her breasts and caused them to appear exceptionally flattering when paired with her new a high waisted black skirt. She also retrieved five different skirts of varying make and fashion, some for relaxing and some for the date nights she’d increasingly begun imagining her and Darling on throughout their shopping.

Mero carried the accumulating pile of clothes as they emerged from the fitting room, while Miia’s mind was miles away. She pictured herself emerging into a dimly lit restaurant on Darling’s strong arm. He was wearing a dark suit jacket, with a red dress shirt beneath over his broad, powerful chest. They would be led by a foreign waiter to a window seat table that overlooked the city. There, they’d have dinner by candlelight, toasting drinks to one another and dining in luxury. Her mind flickered through multiple entrees, unable to decide what she’d have, but knowing they would insist upon getting dessert. Something warm and made with chocolate. A lava cake, one he’d feed to her with his fork, and she’d wrap her tongue around it, pulling it into her mouth while making that special contact with his handsome eyes, wearing that enamored smile.

A hand on her hip brought her back into the starkly lit store, snapping her out of her fantasy just as Darling began to take off his shirt. “Hey,” Mero said, tugging on her sweater, “are you okay? You seem distracted by something.”

Miia’s face lit up bashfully. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Just thinking about dinner, I guess.”

Mero huffed. “We still need to go to the gym, you know.”

Miia flinched. Her face scrunched up in a distracted confusion.

“Did you forget?” Mero demanded.

“Wha?” Miia looked to her, “Oh, no. Uhh, I was thinking about Darling…” she shook her head. “I dunno why I said dinner.”

Mero chuckled. “You’re starting to associate him with food? No wonder you’ve gained so much weight.”

She’d expected some fiery retort, something to leap out to her taunt or for Miia’s blush to turn curt. Instead, her head slowly swiveled to the side. The red in her face slowly began to build until she was as red as a cherry, and a trickle of sweat appeared down her forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Mero asked.

Miia didn’t respond. Instead, she looked down at herself, analyzing her own body. Her fingers searched the curvy grove of her hips, flitting over the top of her tummy, and her hand settled atop her heart. Mero could see her breathing had gotten heavier and could almost see the rapid beat of her heart. “Is it…” she whispered to herself, trailing off. “Does he… like…?”

Mero shook her head. “He? Who’s he? Master?” she lost her diction as she was getting frustrated. “Miia, what’s going on?”

The lamia’s amber eyes were wide, as if she were about to lose it. Then, she looked to Mero, and a sudden surprised expression leapt to her face. “Nothing!” she poorly lied. “Just thinking that he’d… uh,” she moved rapidly, twisting around the nearby dress shirts. She lifted one, a black button up with a fine collar. “That he’d like something like this!”

Mero’s eyes lidded. “Miia, that’s a woman’s shirt,” she riposted.

Miia turned heated. “I meant on me,” she said through a disapproving scowl.

Mero shook her head in amazement. “It’s too small, that’s a medium.”

The lima hissed, folding it over her arm. “Whatever. Come on, let’s get going, I want that hot chocolate.”

Mero looked from her, back to the clothing, and to the shirt she’d wrapped around her arm. She rolled her eyes in frustration before starting her chair after the young newlywed and they came to the counter up front. 

Leviticus began to dutifully scan each garment. “Would you like to keep the hangers?” he asked. 

“Please,” Miia said. “I haven’t thought to get any, yet,” she heartily admitted.

The ogre nodded, humming to himself as he neatly fitted each top into a large cerulean bag, with a small hole opened in the roof through which the hangers emerged.

Miia cringed at the expense of the new bras. G cups needed to be made special, with heavier fabric due to the increased bearing they contained. At 2,000 yen each, they were a luxury item, and the girl knew she’d have to go without on some days. Yet, after considering how she’d spent the last week, she determined that should hardly bothered her.

As he finished the tops, his large eyebrows were perked at the medium sized black dress shirt. He looked up to Miia, who nodded wordlessly, and he scanned the product, placing it with the others. The skirts, he folded separately, placing them into their own bag. Then, as he finished his order, he made a curious noise. “Mrs. Kurusu,” he began, “if it pleases, we do have a section that is based on more traditional lamia clothing. Sheer transparent fabric, hip scarfs in a variety of golden desert stylings.” 

Mero felt a slight surprise come over her as she realized, too, that Miia hadn’t gotten a single standard lamia outfit. She’d been focused on the individual clothing so much that she hadn’t noticed not a single one was inspired by anything of the desert tribes.

However, Miia was nodding. “I saw. I’m not interested in them but thank you.”

“You’re sure?” the ogre puzzled. “The belly dancer outfits are some of our best sellers, often our customers lament how they miss being at their homes.”

The girl sighed, though she wore a patient smile. “My home’s here,” she said. “I don’t have any reason to miss being back in the sands.”

Mero felt a crack in her chest. She opened her mouth to say something, then remembering Miia’s earlier venom, closed it. She had nothing to say yet fretted with her hands uncomfortably.

Thankfully, Leviticus did not push the matter. Instead, he nodded his large bulky shoulders, and tapped on the computer with his immense forefinger. Then, he lowered himself onto one knee, and reached beneath his station.

The girls watched him curiously while he moved with passive grace, lifting himself back up to his full height, and placing two items on top of the counter. A white container on top of a brightly colored book. “I’d like to extend these gifts to you,” he said graciously. “Congratulations on your marriage, and as thanks for your business.”

Inquisitively, Miia took the container. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “this is a snakeskin body lotion!”

He bowed his head. “To ease the process with any shedding you may experience in the coming times.”

“Thank you,” Miia bowed. “This will help a ton.”

With a finger, he pushed the book outwards to her. “And this,” he said, “is a personal item of my own. It’s a guidebook for those who wish to learn how to sew.” He grinned, though Mero believed she saw his eyes glint with a sense of mischief. “It will help with any alterations your new clothes may eventually need.” He paused, “For when you need to take them in, of course.”

Miia was blushing, looking down at the book. She laughed nervously. “O-of course…” She tapped her finger on the cover. “Umm, thanks. I think this’ll be,” she looked worriedly to Mero, “… useful.”

The gentleogre bowed once more. “Now then,” he said, taking the items and bagging them, “will you be paying with cash or card?”

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