Dreamweaver.

Two figures stood on the threshold.

Two women stood at the door.

The first was tall and fair-skinned, her long, wavy blonde hair tucked neatly behind her shoulders. Her sharp, narrow eyes were a pale gray, giving her an unreadable, distant look. She wore a dark green cloak over a fitted black dress. The fabric clean and well-made, clearly expensive, but not flashy. A silver chain hung loosely around her neck, catching the light when she moved.

Beside her was a younger woman, shorter, with a softer appearance. Her dark brown hair was tied back into a simple braid. Her eyes were round and dark, quietly observant but lacking the confidence of the other woman. She wore a plain blue dress with a beige apron tied at her waist and simple black shoes. A maid, by the look of her.

Both stood quietly, watching Seyla.

Seyla opened the door and found two beautiful women standing on his doorstep. His eyes flicked between them, caught slightly off guard.

"May I know the purpose of these two beautiful ladies at my door?" he asked with a crooked smile.

The taller woman stepped forward, her gray eyes calm but sharp. "We're here for a commission," she replied simply. "I saw your name in the newspaper—new sheriff, east side of the city, near River Saan." She tilted her head slightly. "So I asked at the police station… and here I am. You're the new sheriff, yes?"

"Yes," Seyla replied. "How may I help you?"

A faint smirk curved her lips. "You're not going to invite me inside? This was supposed to be… a discreet mission."

"Oh… right. Sorry." Seyla scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's my first time being a sheriff… Can you wait just a second? I'll, uh, clean the living room."

He quickly shut the door and practically bolted inside.

Shit, shit, shit! How am I supposed to let them see this place?

His eyes darted around the room, the cluttered couch, the haphazard furniture, the bizarre mismatch between inside and outside, electronics, television, a modern house. Panic settled in fast.

I should've moved house before taking commissions—

Before he could finish the thought, the entire interior of the house rippled, walls folding inward like paper, floorboards bending unnaturally. His past house… collapsed, then instantly rebuilt itself perfectly clean, perfectly furnished, old couches, shelfs, just a small living room. matching the old-world houses outside.

Seyla froze.

"…What the actual fuck just happened?" he muttered, staring wide-eyed at his new living room.

But there was no time to question it. He took a deep breath, straightened his coat, and hurried to the door, forcing a calm expression.

"Come in," he said to the two women, stepping aside as if everything was completely normal.

Seyla walked into the living room, the two women following behind him. He gestured toward the couch. "Please, have a seat."

They sat down gracefully as Seyla offered, "Would you like coffee? Tea?"

The blonde woman shook her head lightly. "No need. This will be a short discussion, then we'll be on our way."

Seyla nodded and settled into the chair across from them. A small smile tugged at his lips as he asked, "May I know the names of these two beautiful ladies?"

The blonde woman gave a polite smile in return. "Rafaela Archus, of the Archus household," she introduced herself with practiced ease. "And this is my maid, Aurora Naiad."

Seyla inclined his head slightly. "Seyla Veyl," he replied. "Sheriff… apparently the newest source of gossip in L'oreal."

Rafaela's lips curled faintly. "A sheriff is exactly what I came for." Her eyes sharpened. "My husband, Claude Lance, is due to arrive in the city tomorrow night. His carriage will be passing through the southern district of L'oreal."

Seyla's brow furrowed. "The southern district? Full of slums, factories… not exactly ideal."

"Which is why I need you." Rafaela's voice remained calm. "That area is poorly maintained, heavily polluted, and crimes happen far too often under the cover of fog and smoke." She leaned back slightly. "I want you to protect his carriage—or him directly, if needed. His carriage is distinct. Almost entirely blue. Wait at the southern gate. When you see it, approach him and say I sent you."

Seyla tapped his finger against his chin. "I just have one question. Why pass through the southern part at all? The western and eastern routes exist."

"You really are new here," Rafaela mused with a small smile. "Our household is located east of L'oreal. And this city sits on the northeast edge of the continent. The main trade routes cut south from here—there's no proper road running west or east beyond the cliffs and marshes. The south is unavoidable."

"Understood," Seyla nodded. "Tomorrow night, I'll escort your husband safely through the southern district to your household." He paused, his gaze steady. "But this mission sounds risky. Why me? A new sheriff, untested?"

Rafaela's expression softened into something amused. "Because I'm the only one bold enough to trust a new sheriff with real work. The other households?" She waved her hand dismissively. "They'll wait until you've 'proven' yourself."

Seyla couldn't help a small, crooked grin. "Fair enough. I accept the mission. And I'll look forward to your recommendation… assuming I survive it."

Rafaela chuckled softly. "Good. And since this is your first mission, I'll be generous." She retrieved a crisp 50 Crown note from her wallet and handed it to him. "Half now. If you complete the job, my maid will deliver the rest personally."

Seyla accepted the money, raising an eyebrow. "Even if your husband… dies?"

"Death can't always be avoided," Rafaela replied casually. "But payment is payment."

Seyla chuckled under his breath. "You're surprisingly practical." He tucked the note into his pocket. "Glad to be working with you."

"Likewise," Rafaela said, standing gracefully.

Aurora followed silently behind her. "Good luck, Sheriff Seyla Veyl."

Seyla watched the door close behind them, shaking his head with a faint grin. "Such a generous lady… even forgives me if her husband dies… Easy hundred Crown notes either way." He laughed to himself and grabbed his coat. Time to head to the western district for shopping.