I awoke to a faint rapping at my door. Bleary eyed, I sat up and looked around. Based on fading light outside, and the near darkness of the room, it had been at least a bell since I had fallen asleep. I looked around, rolling my neck as I did. My pack was where I dropped it and looked relatively untouched. My boots were a few paces beyond it, also untouched. Satisfied, I stood up and made my way towards the door.

  “Yes?” I called through the door.

  “A maid for Lady Kara,” came the response.

  I quickly ran my fingers through my hair and found that my natural ears had returned. Annoyed, but not truly surprised, I set about reestablishing my disguise. “Just a moment,” I called back. The ears folded back, the fangs shortened, and the tails retracted sluggish but surely. I made a mental note to investigate the effects of exhaustion on being disguised. Then, remembering how tired I was after casting those, made another note to investigate how my disguise affected my capacity for casting, quantity specifically, before I opened the door.

  The maid at the door was a slight thing, human but wispy like an elf. I couldn’t see her face, only the mess of black hair atop her head as she insisted on having the conversation from a bow. “Dinner will be ready in an hour. I am here to help you prepare if you desire.”

  I looked around the room again and found a doorway that presumably led to the bath. “I think I can manage on my own.”

  “Of course ma’am,” she said with a slight bow, “Will you need help lacing your dress?”

  “Dress?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Oh, no. I don’t have a dress.” Or did a kimono count as a dress? They were superficially similar, but wearing a kimono would probably raise more question than I cared to deal with. It might have been acceptable given my false backstory. I turned to ask and found the maid fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable, but unwilling to speak. Was she waiting for me?

  “Clearly,” Rin confirmed.

  The idea of having someone wait on me like that was uncomfortable at best. If this is what dealing with nobles would be like, I was going to hate it. Suppressing the urge to sigh, I instead smiled.

  “It’s okay,” I said, “you can just talk. I’m not a noble.”

  If she was shocked, she did a good job hiding it. Still, she didn’t raise her head. “Ah, yes ma’am, if you insist. This is supposed to be a celebratory dinner. You should dress to celebrate, or more accurately to be celebrated.”

  Being celebrated sounded like it would involve having a great number of people staring at me, which I decidedly did not want. I inwardly groaned but outwardly kept my best smile affixed. “Well, unfortunately for all of us I don’t have a dress and I doubt we’ll be able to attain one within an hour,” I tried, thinly hoping that would make it so I didn’t have to be ‘celebrated’. I mean, how easy could it be to find a dress and get it cut for me? Longer than a bell, which meant it was… Wait, how long was an hour?

  “His Lordship anticipated this and instructed us to provide from Lady Emma and Lady Katherine’s, his daughters’, stock if need be,” the maid responded with her head still down.

  I winced, grateful that the maid wasn’t looking up to see it. “Well, thank you then. I suppose I will need your help after all.”

  “Very good ma’am.”

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

  I was utterly convinced that Lord Winthrop hated his daughters.

  To some, the sheer number of choices I had of dresses that were available to me would’ve been seen as flattery to his children. The maid, however, informed me it was quite the opposite. Lord Winthrop would only buy a new dress for his daughters every three months at most, which was apparently slow by nobility’s mad standards, and could, to some, be seen as him expressing disdain for his daughters? Not that Lady Emma or Lady Katherine felt that way about their father.

  I didn’t understand it and, regardless, it wasn’t what convinced me of his hatred

  What convinced me is that every single dress came with a tight constraint device, called a corset, that went around my waist and nearly suffocated me AND was required to make the dress work. And no matter how much the maid tried to convince me that the daughters chose that themselves, and it was the height of fashion, I was convinced that was just a pleasant lie told to me to hide the real truth.

  Lord Winthrop hated his daughters and specifically how the would spend his money frivolously and only bought them dresses with torture devices added to help discourage them from buying more.

  “Can you breathe?” the maid asked for what had to have been the tenth time.

  “Yes,” I said, “Though it’s a near thing.”

  She nodded and then pulled on the laces again. There was a slight pinch and then it began to loosen as she tied the ends. “Shallow breaths,” the maid advised. “It’ll be easier once you adjust and it loosens a bit, but we need it tight as possible for you to fit into the dresses”

  The idea of just letting my claws out and ripping myself free crossed my mind again before being pushed aside. “Yes, let’s get on with this. Though, I don’t know how I’m going to eat with my stomach caged like this.”

  “Lady Emma would typically have some of the food sent to her room after,” the maid supplied, bringing a mess of blue fabric that was supposed to be a dress over from the table it had been laid on. “Lady Katherine simply ate more portions of lower amounts. Leg.”

  I stepped and then tried to bend to bring the dress up and found that I couldn’t. The corset just wouldn’t let me, forcing me into a perfectly tower straight posture. Worse, I could feel my breasts pressing against each other, a wholly unpleasant situation that I was certain was going to lead to all sorts of sweat and discomfort. Combine that with a lack of food and I was not looking forward to this evening.

  “How long do dinners typically last?” I asked as the maid moved around me, pulling the dress higher on my body. I couldn’t see much, since I also couldn’t twist, but she moved quickly enough.

  “I’ve never seen one go more than six hours,” she said honestly, “Though four is probably closer to average.”

  So between one-and-a-third bells and two I translated. That was a long time to not eat for, so I guessed that I was going with the small portions. Still, I was grateful that I had finally gotten a conversion between the two from the maid. She had also answered several of my minor curiosity questions through the dressing process, which appreciated even more. Still, that would pale to thanks I would owe her when she finally helped me out of this torture device.

  She reached up, pulling the loose sleeves over my arm and up to where they rested on my shoulder. “Granted, that’s six hours for the entire affair, including reception and dessert. You could probably beg out of the after dinner festivities if you wanted.”

  I nodded and tried to take a deep breath to focus. Then I mentally cursed when I couldn’t.

  “Yes, I will likely do that,” I said instead.

  “It isn’t unexpected for a woman to be tired and need the evening to themselves. Discuss such things openly and you should be able to excuse yourself politely.”

  “At which point, I’ll come back here and you’ll help me out of this?”

  “No, no need to come back here,” the maid said from behind me. I could hear the sounds of more lacing, though this time it didn’t constrict. I wasn’t sure that was a mercy or a statement of how tightly the corset was wound. “I’ll be at the dinner and once you excuse yourself I’ll meet you in your room to help you out of the dress.” She paused brushing over my shoulders and pausing at the bows at the end of the sleeves. “Unless, of course, you have found someone else to assist you.”

  Someone else to assist? Who else would help me out of my clo… Ah.

  “Apparently they are much more accepting of dalliances here than back home.”

  I could feel the blush rising. “No, no that won’t be an option for me tonight… Say, I never got your name.”

  I could hear the maid stifle a laugh at that, “You can call me Sarah, ma’am.”

  “Sarah,” I repeated, “No, I don’t plan or particularly want that tonight.”

  “Yes ma’am, of course ma’am,” she said in a tone that I couldn’t help but feel was disbelieving. I couldn’t tell if that was a reflection of what she thought of my character or a statement about Winthrop’s daughters though.

  She pointed to a stool nearby, “Have a seat. We’ll do up your hair, give you a touch of color, and then finally give you your shoes.”

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

  I could hear the music from the hall playing as Sarah guided me to the stairwell. It had been playing for a while now, but Sarah insisted that it was okay for me to not be there immediately. Assured, I took the time to practice with the foot based torture device that Sarah claimed were shoes. It was largely open to the air, except for a strap of cloth that went over the top, similarly to a geta strap. That would’ve been manageable, if they also didn’t have a curved raising on the back end which forced my heels into the air and my feet down into a crude approximation of my normal feet. I thought that I could just walk normally, toes leading, but Sarah quickly corrected me to leading with my heel. Leading with the thinnest part seemed foolish, but I was able to quickly correct by remembering geta worked. It was harder than it seemed since it had been nearly a full season, three months in Runnan parlance, and I had gotten used to boots, but I made it work. And would continue to do so, though to be honest, my plan for that was finding a seat and moving as little as possible for the rest of the evening. Preferably somewhere with food, given how my stomach continued to rumble.

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  At the top of the stairs, Sarah and I stopped to let me compose myself. I took the time to listen to the bustle. There were people here, a large amount by the sounds, and they were talking. I couldn’t hear about what exactly, but the tones seemed friendly enough. Taking a breath, deep as I could manage but not deep enough to be truly comforting, I pulled away from Sarah, grabbed the railing, and began to carefully descend towards below. It was a delicate art, and I paid the people no attention to anything but putting one foot in front of the other.

  “Now presenting Lady Kara Imardi,” a voice boomed.

  I froze mid step and looked up at the hall. Nearly everyone, easily a hundred people were all looking at me in this borrowed dress with the spirits-know-what done with my hair and my chest indecorously exposed and on display. All of them watching me. And I was frozen like a rabbit at a hawk’s cry.

  So, I did the only thing I could do and smiled.

  And at that cue the music started. People returned to their conversation. I gave the approximation of a sigh of relief and continued down the stairs.

  At the bottom Lord Winthrop stood in an impressive suit with his arm presented for me to hold on to. Grateful for the assistance, I took it and held tight for balance. He placed his hand atop mine and we were off, walking the hall. My impulse was to look around, see all the people and outfits, but it took so much effort to just keep my smile affixed and keep moving that I couldn’t. Thankfully, Lord Winthrop seemed to notice this and slowed to a sedate pace that made everything easier. Once we broke through the first group and into a larger room, I finally felt comfortable enough to lean in slightly and talk.

  “How did you get so many people here on such short notice?”

  He chortled at my side, “I cheated. They were already coming for a ball I was hosting. Originally, I was planning on announcing the progress of my researchers and making a display of that. I just rededicated the focus to the heroes of the day,” He paused and smiled over the room, causing his hair to wave behind him. “Heroes, Saviors, Starborn.”

  I could feel my pulse quicken, which was exceptionally disturbing in the corset as it made me more aware of a lot of my body. “Perhaps not the last bit. It’s my understanding that the Empire doesn’t look kindly on those affiliated with the old Gods.”

  He chuckled merrily at my side. “Lady Imardi,” he began.

  “Just Kara, please,” I cut in.

  “Lady Imardi,” he firmly reasserted, “lest you wish to cause a scandal by implying that we are very far along in the courting process.” I blushed and turned my head to the side.

  “Quite,” he agreed before continuing. “Lady Imardi, you are too late to put that wine back in the bottle. Firstly, rumors travel fast around here, not least of all because I’ve been working to spread them. And secondly, the neckline of your dress, while on the higher side of fashionable, is still low enough that we can see the Starmarks on your chest.”

  “Merciless spiders,” I cursed., looking down. It was a struggle, given the corset and its instance that I be perfectly upright at all times. And pinching my shoulders together. Thankfully, I had just gotten the hang of breathing in a corset, from my chest not from my stomach which made the entire ordeal more bearable. Just another thing to relearn and focus on.

  What was I doing? Ah, yes. Starmarks.

  I couldn’t see my collar bone, but I could see some of the decorative white trim around the neckline and it wasn’t nearly as opaque as I had thought it originally.

  He patted my hand reassuringly, “But to help assuage your concern, the people here are friends. And even if they weren’t, I didn’t know that Starborn were attached to the Old Gods until you told me. I doubt many people do.”

  I nodded and sighed, fully this time. “Thank you,” I eventually said. And then we walked and moved through the room. After a moment, I asked the question. Or at least a question, “Why did you say my last name was Imardi?”

  He smiled and patted a man’s shoulder as we passed by them before returning the response. “Vanity,” he admitted. “There are a lot of people here who put a lot of credence in birth. Admitting I was saved by someone without heritage, without family, would damage your reputation. I couldn’t abide letting that happen to someone who was so helpful. You might do well to adopt the name while you are in Freeport, else you be marked as ‘other’”

  “And your reputation wasn’t a factor at all?” I asked skeptically.

  He laughed heartily. “Oh gracious, of course it was. But please believe me when I say yours was the first thought and primary reason.”

  I nodded and smiled at a couple as we walked past them before asking the follow up. “But why Imardi?”

  “Oh, that’s simple,” he answered earnestly, “When someone doesn’t have a last name we typically name them after their parents’ profession, typically the father. Since you didn’t know your father, we went to the fallback of the town of your birth. With a slight twist so now one figures out the deception too quickly. Give you as much insulation against the condescension as possible.”

  I wanted to be angry, but he seemed genuine enough. He was just trying to help. And perhaps, one of these nobles was the person who would help us move forward on our adventure next and the good impression, or more accurately the insulation from a bad impression, he had just given me would save me some trouble down the road. It was just enough a coincidence that it felt like something Death or her ilk would do.

  “Thank you,” I eventually said.

  “But of course,” he replied with a winsome smile. “Ah, our table.”

  It was a large table at that, with seats for ten around it. Two were untouched, followed by three women with a strong family resemblance, followed by an empty but clearly used seat, and then my fellow Starborn. Lord Winthrop pulled my chair out and then pushed it in once I sat.

  The ladies were introduced to me as Winthrop’s wife, Lady Susan, and his two daughters.

  Lady Katherine, who looked to be a few years older than me leaned in, “Oh you look lovely. I’m glad we could find you something. It looks like it was made for you.”

  I smiled politely, “It is a nice dress, though I admit I’m not entirely sure what I look like. Getting ready took so long that I didn’t have time to see the entire image.”

  Lady Emma smiled, “You look fantastic. If I wasn’t already betrothed, I’d be very jealous right now. With you looking like that no one would look deign to look at me.”

  I didn’t have a response to that. That was the second comment about my looks and desire tonight and it was uncomfortably reminding me of the Dusk Elves. And Eninald. Valiantly, I tried to steer the conversation away from attraction. While mentally reminding myself that I had some research to do into suppressing the enticement effect.

  “There are many other things that require your attention.”

  Ignoring her and unable to continue the previous conversation, I instead tried a new topic.

  “Is that who the empty chair is for?” I asked, sliding a hand under my under dress to the internal pockets. Eninald was there, the white fluff of the ball calming me. “Your betrothed I mean.”

  Lady Emma laughed, “Oh no. It would be terribly improper for us to dine next to each other before the wedding. He’s at that table over there. In the green scarf.”

  I spared a glance. He was a thinner man, with spindly fingers and currently intensely discussing something with his neighbor.

  “Those fingers are nice and long. I’d imagine they could scratch an itch…”.

  That sent an image through my brain that made my body respond and my brain recoil. I quickly thought about star charts and pushed it as far from my mind as possible. It was only partially effective because I was also disturbed at Rin’s abrupt transition from cold, and often condescending, logic to smoldering temptation. It was wrong. Not her saying it, that almost felt appropriate and fitting, but rather that it had been said at all. I hadn’t been consciously thinking along those lines until she made the comment.

  But now the thoughts wouldn’t leave. There was something there. Something…

  Lady Emma’s voice faded back into my consciousness, “... empty seat is for Lady Talnos.”

  I nodded absently and forced my attention to her. A distraction from the thoughts.

  “Lady Talnos?” I asked, trying to focus on the situation at hand.

  “She doesn’t typically come, but father is so deeply in her debt that he feels obligated to have a seat prepared for her at all times,” she gasped. “Oh, pardon me, it would seem I’ve had too much to drink and have let my tongue get away from me.”

  I glanced at the goblet. It was nearly full. Unless she had been drinking before the party started or already finished a goblet and had it refilled before I arrived, something else was going on here. I looked her over, looking for possible causes but instead found myself repeatedly drawn to her chest. It was of average size, but notably it was flushed. Not a blush of embarrassment, but the flush of....

  “Oh, insatiable hunger,” I internally cursed. I knew that I was hungry and that there was residual Hunger, but now that I was aware of it, I could feel the need, the ache, deep in my gut. I had spent too much Energy today and now I needed to recharge and my body was not particular about how. The Hunger had grown and worse I didn’t know what to do with it.

  “Lady Kara?”

  I shook my head and gave lady Kate a smile. She met my eyes and smiled back. It was warm at first, but it quickly turned into something more salacious.

  “She might not be your type, but anyone can satiate your Hunger.”

  A flash of Lady Emma’s fiance flashed in my head, focusing on his fingers. “Or,” she continued, “Perhaps, you want both of them? Really try to fill that ‘insatiable hunger’?”

  “Shut up,” I hissed under my breath.

  “Hmmm?” Lady Emma asked distractedly. Her eyes were slightly hooded.

  I blinked, had she heard me? “Oh,” I fumbled, “I’m just commenting how hungry I am. Haven’t eaten much today.”

  “Or fed that hunger in a few weeks”

  “Shut. Up.” I sharply thought at Rin.

  “Oh,” Lady Emma said, nodding, “That’s terrible. The second course should be served momentarily.”

  “Second?” I asked confusedly, grasping any conversation that led away from Rin’s manipulations.

  Lady Emma nodded and motioned to a well concealed door on the side of the room. “Well, the mingle food was the first, but that should largely be done by now. The soup should be here any minute.”

  As if on cue, a bell rang and people began to move to their seats. Lord Winthrop stood and his voice boomed throughout the dining area, “Friends. Acquaintances. And everyone else who managed to wrangle an invitation, welcome. In the fine tradition of my family, I forgo the traditional speech one might give now in exchange for three simple words. Let us eat!”

  And then hordes of servants poured from the doors, bearing silver trays. I barely paused to look at the soup before I started to eat, hoping to dull one hunger by feeding the other.