The first step, Emma thought, was undeniably clear: mana currency. Without it, her ambitious plan would remain nothing more than an idle dream. She rose from the polished wooden floor of Anna’s room, brushing off her ash-gray gown as she stood tall. Her silver hair caught the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the enchanted canopy above Anna’s bed. Turning to Anna, she placed her hands on her hips, her stance exuding determination.

“Anna,” she declared boldly, her voice carrying an almost theatrical confidence, “we’re going to make that wheelchair.”

Anna, seated comfortably in her intricately carved wheelchair, tilted her head, her delicate elven features betraying amusement. Her eyes glimmered with mischief as she stared at Emma. And then, she laughed... a light, melodic sound that filled the room.

Emma blinked, taken aback. “What? What’s so funny?” she asked, her tone edged with curiosity.

Anna waved a hand dismissively, though her shoulders continued to tremble with laughter. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied, her voice laced with barely contained mirth. “It’s just… the way you declared it, all dramatic and serious.”

To emphasize her point, Anna mimicked Emma’s stance and tone, placing her hands on her hips and puffing out her chest with exaggerated conviction. “Anna,” she said in a mock-serious voice, “we’re going to make that wheelchair!”

Emma stared for a moment, her lips twitching. Then she burst into laughter, the sound blending with Anna’s. The room, which moments ago felt charged with confidence, now pulsed with lighthearted energy.

After a while, Anna’s laughter subsided, and she sighed, a small smile still lingering on her face. “Well,” she began, her tone turning thoughtful, “to make that kind of wheelchair, it’s going to cost a lot of mana currency. A lot of it.”

Emma met her gaze, her own smile unfaltering. “Don’t worry about that,” she said confidently, reaching into the pocket of her gown. From it, she pulled out a small, neatly packed bag, the fabric soft yet sturdy, with faint stitching that glimmered under the light. She held it up with a smirk. “There’s about 150 mana currency in here,” she added, her tone light but proud.

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Anna’s eyes widened slightly as she rested her right hand on her jaw, her expression one of approval and surprise. “So, you really are serious,” she murmured, her voice carrying a hint of awe.

“What?” Emma blurted out, her smile fading into a slight frown. “You didn’t think I was serious?”

Anna raised both hands slightly, her palms facing outward as if to placate Emma. “Don’t be mad,” she said quickly, her expression softening into something almost apologetic. “I just thought… I thought it was more of a passing idea. I didn’t realize you’d already started preparing.”

Emma paused, the words hanging in the air. She glanced down at the bag of mana currency in her hand, then back at Anna. Slowly, she walked over to where Anna sat and knelt down on one knee in front of her.

Anna’s expression shifted, her lips parting slightly as if she expected Emma to say something heartfelt or reassuring.

Instead...

Flick!

Emma flicked Anna’s forehead lightly with her fingers.

“Ow!” Anna yelped, recoiling slightly as her hand flew up to her forehead. “Why did you do that?” she demanded, her tone half-indignant, half-bemused.

Emma grinned. “Firstly, for not believing me. Secondly, for looking so sad just now. And thirdly… well, just because I felt like it.”

Anna stared at her for a moment, her mouth slightly agape. Then, despite herself, she began to laugh again, the sound infectious enough to draw a chuckle from Emma as well.

When their laughter died down, the room fell into a companionable silence. Emma broke it, her tone firm yet warm. “I don’t just say things without meaning them, Anna. I’m a lady of my word.”

As she stood, she puffed out her chest dramatically, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. The gesture, though bold, only prompted another round of soft laughter from both of them.

Anna shook her head, her smile lingering as she turned the wheels of her wheelchair. “Well,” she said, her tone shifting to something more serious, “if we’re really going to do this…” She began rolling herself toward a small dressing table at the far end of the room.

The table, crafted from the same enchanted wood as the rest of the furniture, was adorned with an array of shimmering trinkets and neatly arranged combs and brushes. Anna opened a small cupboard built into its side, her fingers brushing against something hidden within.

And then, she lifted it up....