“You really are a cute one, sweetie. I love how creative all you young girls are with your hair,” the Dorm Mistress, an elven woman with ashy blonde hair and the plumpest figure Ambrose had ever witnessed on an elf, said as she pulled the girl into a side hug. The two of them moved through the halls side by side, hip to hip. “I honestly think I should do something with mine, but whenever I try I just go back to this old braided bun.”
“I think the bun and the braids make you look elegant,” Ambrose said, looking at the other woman through her long bangs. The Dorm Mistress tittered and waved Ambrose off like she thought the girl was lying to her, but Ambrose was being genuine. Most elves were slender and perhaps a little willowy. The long flowy hairstyles most elf women had freed the eyes to the flow of their hair and gave their movement a sense of grace. The Dorm Mistress was full figured and curvaceous in a way that flowy hair would only distract from.
Ambrose didn't press the issue, though. The last thing she needed was her landlady to think she was being hit on by a student. Nothing good could come of that. Instead, she changed the subject. “So will my roommate also be in her first semester?”
“Oh yes. Laiji is a sweet young thing. Just started three weeks ago. She reached level two today, from what the grapevine tells me. The two of you should get along juuuust fine!” the Dorm Mistress stated, showing her to the end of the west wing on the second floor. The pair of them stopped in front of room number 214 and the buxom elf woman knocked three times.”Laiji? Laiji are you in, dear?”
It took a moment for the bolt in the door to slide and then the handle to turn. A moment later the door was opened just a crack. Glowing green eyes peeked out of the space between the door and its threshold. “Yes dorm mistress?” came a sweet, polite toned voice from inside of the door.
“Laiji, sweetie, you come out here and meet your new roommate,” the Dorm Mistress commanded in a jovial tone. “She's just the most darling little thing. I know the two of you will get along right as rain.”
There was silence behind the door for a moment, and then it was opened a moment later, the girl named Laiji stepping out into the hall and leaving the door behind her ajar. She was cute with long, lustrous black hair, and an elegant diamond shaped face. Her vivid green eyes had a light but pronounced inward slant that followed the contour of her brow and nose, giving off an air of regality with her shapely cheeks and slight jaw. She wore a light pair of pajamas with a dainty looking silken shirt and a soft pair of knee length shorts to match it. Her skin tone was a gentle, warm cream coloration, and she hugged herself across her narrow waist as she nervously eyed them both.
The most interesting thing about Laiji to Ambrose wasn’t the rest of her body, or even the glowing eyes. It was her hands. Her palms and fingers seemed to be transparent, as though her flesh faded almost into nothing. Only the light, pale-green of wind magic hinted at where her flesh was. Was she turning into an elemental?
“Ambrose, this is Laiji. She'll be your roommate starting tonight. Laiji. This is Ambrose. She’s our newest student of the semester. She’s likely to share at least a class or two with you. I’m hoping you girls will be fast friends,” the Dorm Mistress said, making introductions.
Ambrose made the first move, giving a polite bow to the woman she’d likely be rooming with for the next few months. She was pleased to see the other girl reflect the gesture. “It’s good to meet you Laiji. Like the Dorm Mistress said, I’m Ambrose. I’m sorry we arrived so late.”
Laiji shook her head. “It’s… it’s no big issue. I was s-studying anyway,” the girl said. “W-why don’t you come in and get unpacked. I’ve tried to leave the other half of the room clean.”
“Then I’ll leave you girls to it. Be down for breakfast at dawn or it’ll be a rough first day for miss Ambrose, yes?” the elvish woman said, smiling at them as she stepped away.
“Yes, Miss Bellwether!” Laiji called after her, reminding Ambrose of the name she’d so quickly forgotten. Ms. Bellwether waved at them both, her wide hips swaying as she left the girls to get to know one another.
“Come on in,” Laiji said, seeming to deflate a little as she backed into the room and held the door for Ambrose. Ambrose was quick to step in and then past her new roommate into the space they would undoubtedly be sharing in the coming months. There was a door in the entryway that could be cut off by the main door. Ambrose guessed that that was the private room. Further into the space, half of the room, the one she assumed was her own, was plain, with a work desk, a storage chest and a raised, single mattress.
The other side was more put together. The desk had books on it as well as a mat with a small salt diagram in its center and a magic lantern illuminating the space more than the ceiling lamp did. The bed had been dressed in heavy sheets and comforters and there were already things packed under it and in the chest. Ambrose’s room mate seemed to be the studious type, and she appreciated that she might have someone to talk to during the semester who wouldn’t make her eyes roll out of their sockets.
“I tried to make sure not to invade the other space, but if you find anything, just let me know. I’ll be sure to clean up,” Laiji said as she slipped over and into the seat at her work table and went back to the diagram she had been working on.
Ambrose was… a little grateful to her that she didn’t start up an interrogation or a big conversation immediately. It had been a long day and she really wasn’t in the mood to play getting to know you. She wanted to take a minute to really rest, and to think. Making friends could come later. With no real night wear, to speak of and very little except for her essentials packed with her, Ambrose took her satchel and rested it under the head of her bed before undressing down to her underwear and testing out the bed. She’d likely need to purchase supplies the following day, and maybe look into some books if she needed them for her classes.
For the moment, though, she relaxed on the plain sheets and looked up at the ceiling while she tried to occupy her mind. So much had happened during that day. From a major attack by people far more experienced than her as adventurers, to gaining a new, yet untested form, to meeting the second prince of the nation she’d been born in. Her life just continued to change more and more, day by day.
It wasn’t long before, despite her attempts to stay active mentally, Ambrose dozed off.
—
As had become customary for Ambrose, she woke up much sooner than was necessary in the wee hours of the morning. Her roommate had slipped quietly into bed at some point, and Ambrose could make out her soft, even breathing with her feline ears. The room was much as it had been when Ambrose dozed off and-... wait… feline ears?
Ambrose reached up and placed her hand on her ears before moving it behind herself to grip her tail. The flexible appendage wiggled in her grip as her own pressure on the thing made her mildly uncomfortable. Letting it go, she looked around again, a little nervously. She had never shifted in her sleep before, although she hadn’t truly felt relaxed enough to just let her guard down either. Sleeping in the catfolk form had left her feeling supremely well rested. Her joints needed a good stretch, but otherwise, she felt fantastic, like a good night’s sleep had eluded her all her life until this night.
Arching her back and straightening her legs she stretched her full body, wiggling as the muscles tightened and then released. Once she’d settled back to her mattress she yawned silently, save for the click of her teeth and then perused the room. Laiji was faced away from her, curled up under her comforter and still noticeably asleep. No one else was in their room, and nothing suspicious was going on.
Since Laiji wasn’t awake to ask if she’d seen anything, Ambrose got up from bed, her nimble grace allowing her to move silently and her transformed eyes making navigating the dark of their room a breeze. Once she was near her clothing, she swapped back to her human form to put them on then made her way awkwardly to the door with her satchel to step out for the day. While she wasn’t confident that she could escape the entire campus, she was fairly certain getting out of the dorm and into the campus proper would be no issue for her. Once she had the door closed behind her, she started quietly making her way down the second floor hallway.
Getting outside wasn’t an issue. Ms. Bellwether was asleep and the main door to the building was locked, but the window to the first floor entryway was open, so Ambrose switched forms and left through the window. Once she was outside, she darted over to the gate and vaulted the eight foot structure, landing quietly on the other side.
Having successfully made it onto the main campus, Ambrose got her bearings and then began her own personal tour. It wasn’t hard to find a separate library building, as well as a structure she would have guaranteed was the school shop if asked. When she peeked in through the windows there was a service desk and many copies of the same books and utensils were available in the stock. The only confirmation she lacked was official signage.
The main school building was another place Ambrose avoided. She had no intention of being caught and questioned by night guards while she was trying to orient herself. Not that she intended on being caught at any other time, but as she wandered through a large garden and past a gazebo and other niceties she thought a bit excessive for a learning institution, Ambrose was careful not to be spotted. For long hours, Ambrose familiarized herself with what she could of the campus and its facilities, until she was confident she could navigate the place safely. All she needed were names to put to the buildings.
It was nearing dawn when the first other students began leaving the dorms and the gates to the housing areas were opened to the campus by staff members. With more people roaming the walkways, Ambrose resumed her form as a human, noting how awkward it felt to be in boots instead of on her paws, or having her tail to counter her movements. She felt notably less stable as a human.
She didn’t dwell on it, though, as learning to adjust herself when swapping between forms was likely going to be important in the future. Instead, she followed the other students at a safe distance toward the main building.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
—-
The dining hall turned out to be inside of the main building on the first floor. The hall was active, two dozen cooks hard at work to supply breakfasts while students found tables. Rather than ask around to find out what the food policy was, Ambrose simply picked a table near a window she could open if she chose to and had a seat. Looking around the hall at the tables, she was surprised to find that the student base was so small. She understood that A rank classes were rare, and S ranks even more so, but this dining hall could only possibly serve 200 at a time, and something told her that was about the number of students in attendance. The elitism was in full light.
She was certain no one here would complain about the exclusivity of their education, but something about the situation rubbed Ambrose the wrong way. She wondered about the size of less elite academies. Would their student base be more varied and larger? Would they cover the same topics as the people here? If places of education were judged based on the quality of their alumni, then wasn't stealing every S and high quality A rank student simply tipping the scales too far for any balanced evaluation of quality?
Those thoughts consumed the majority of Ambrose's focus until a menu and three glasses, each filled with some variety of juice were placed before her. She looked up to see an elf woman in a service outfit smiling pleasantly at her. “I didn't recognize your face, so I thought I'd bring you the variety. Sample the flavors and tell me your favorite and I'll be sure to refill that one for you during your meals, miss. I'll be back to get your order momentarily,” the woman said before turning and walking away, distributing more menus to the other tables in the area.
Bemused, Ambrose eyed the three juices. One was a rich pink, the other a wine purple and the last and light, watery yellow. Rather than keep the woman waiting, Ambrose sampled each. The pink was strong and tart and made her wince as it went down, but the aftertaste left her mouth feeling fresh and sweet. The red one tasted of a deep, berry sweetness that lingered on the tongue. The taste stayed so long that Ambrose almost didn't sample the last drink before the server returned, which turned out to be the most mild of the three drinks, with a citrus tang that faded almost as soon as she swallowed.
When the serving woman returned, Ambrose told her that she preferred the pink juice, which the elf seemed to approve of and promised to refill for her during meals. She then took Ambrose's order and scampered off to go and collect food. Ambrose watched her go, thinking to herself that it would have been easier on everyone if she had just gone up and asked for whatever was being cooked and set out herself.
Still, she sat and waited to be served, sipping the strong juice until she noticed that she was being approached. Three women were heading to her table, past the others and each had their eyes focused on the table Ambrose sat at.
The girl in the lead was a tall, brown haired human woman who wore a golden clawed gauntlet, arm guard, and pauldron on her right arm. The ornate, spiked armor moved easily with her as she stalked closer, but Ambrose couldn't help but notice that the piece of equipment was the most notable thing about her. Her hair was loose and curly, but not so much that it stood out any. Her face was tepidly pretty. Her body was… almost painfully average for a warrior woman, with no definition to stand out. Her outfit was plain with a simple vest to cover her blouse and tight pants for moving with a lighter weapon. Even the basket hilt of her sword was rather simple. In combination with her person, the woman looked like the gauntlet was outclassing her.
The woman behind her was another tall, slender elvish woman who wore a simple uniform that Ambrose guessed was the Academy standard. She was a soft, sunny blond with gentle blue eyes that told Ambrose she was likely gentle natured. Yet with the company she kept, Ambrose doubted she was much more than a follower.
Their last companion was a halfling girl who carried a long battle hammer over her shoulder. Though the light composition of the weapon and its elegant head told Ambrose she was from the north, and was used to dealing with armored opponents, rather than carrying around a giant metal sledge hammer. She was diminutive, but walked with a sense of power and grandeur, her student uniform doing nothing to detract from her stature and pride.
The trio closed in on Ambrose's table, halting on the other side of it where the brunette crossed her arms, awaiting Ambrose's acknowledgement. Ambrose chose not to give it to them. This was obviously some lackluster attempt at intimidation by third rate nobility trying to push her around because she was either common or new. Doing anything other than allowing them to crack their own fa?ade would be doing Ambrose herself a disservice. Ambrose’s food had arrived by the time the trio realized that their awkward tactic was simply backfiring and making them look foolish. When the servant asked them if they were going to be seated and have their usual orders, each of them stammered before the halfling said yes.
Ambrose was half inclined to laugh at the three of them, but instead took her first bite. The food was, if not home made, passable nourishment. The eggs were somewhat bland and the sausage was under seasoned, but Ambrose could and would eat it until she found better options.
“Ahem!” The girl at the lead said, fake clearing her throat to get Ambrose's attention before putting on a haughty face. That face dulled when Ambrose simply gave her a bored glance before forking another mouthful of eggs off of her plate.
“This is our table!” The girl declared, likely trying to get the words out before Ambrose forgot about her entirely.
“There are enough free seats for each of you. You are welcome to them,” Ambrose said without looking up, easing the eggs past her lips and chewing slowly.
“And sit with a commoner?!” The girl asked, confirming Ambrose’s assumptions that she was a noble looking for a fight with ‘the poors’. “I think not!”
“I'm certain you don't do much of that, yes,” Ambrose said, sighing. “If you did do much thinking at all, you might have figured out that we're surrounded by empty tables, and you don't need to sit with a commoner or even speak to one if you don't want to.”
There was an audible snort from someone at the tables behind the trio, but the culprit couldn't be found when the girls turned, scowling behind them. When they swung back around to direct those scowls at Ambrose, the woman made sure her attention was back on her food, as though she'd summarily dismissed the other girls.
She could almost feel their fury at being ignored as a wave of heat across her skin. The pronounced inhalation of the middle one was loud enough that Ambrose prepared herself for shouting or violence.
“I don't think you know who you're talking to!” The brunette said, gyrating with her words as though the added antics would emphasize her point. “I am-” she started, but Ambrose cut her off summarily.
“I know exactly who you three are,” she declared, setting down her fork and pointing an intentionally rude finger at the brunette, the elf, and the halfling each in turn. “You are the loudmouthed dumb one. You are the spineless dumb one. And you are the violent dumb one. And together you make the Three Wantwits.”
The silence in the dining hall was deafening as Ambrose’s words sank in. Then the laughter began before the brunette stomped her foot, her boot slamming the floor hard enough for the thud to resound across the room as she shouted. “Silence! I am the third Princess of Diestol! I will not be mocked by the common rabble!”
Ambrose winced internally at the announcement that her bully was not only some wealthy snob who could cause her trouble, but also related to the Headmaster of the school she was attending. Such things were bound to end poorly. But she'd already stuck her foot into the water. And she didn't like the prince anyway. Things were bound to go sour one day or another. Shrugging, Ambrose committed herself not moving.
The princess obviously thought that her announcement would have made Ambrose immediately capitulate to her. Maybe she thought that some threat of royal punishment would scare Ambrose into docile obedience. Ever since Ambrose had been discovered, people had been chasing her and trying desperately to get her to come to and be taught at the Royal academy. She had no interest in being there herself and only went because someone far more powerful than her had refused to just let her go home and work at her own pace.
If this third Princess could get her kicked out of the academy, she'd thank the woman and kiss her hand on the way out of the front gates. But something told her the “M Rank” wouldn't be discharged so easily.
When Ambrose made no move to submit, the princess pointed her gauntleted hand at Ambrose, the clawed finger tips glimmering in the chandelier light. “I challenge you to a duel!” She shouted, an audible gasp following the challenge as all the people in the dining hall expressed their shock. There was a tall man in school colors who also stood up from a table near the servers, though looked more tired than excited. Ambrose guessed he was the teacher on site. “I will show you your place, commoner!”
“I decline your challenge,” Ambrose replied, earning another loud gasp from the people in the hall. Ambrose raised an eyebrow and looked around at all of the shocked faces looking her way at that response. “Really?”
“Ha! You must truly be a coward then, freshman! Unwilling to observe the right to a duel!” The girl taunted, trying to goad Ambrose into fighting her.
“Call me what you want, there's no benefit to me dueling you, Loudmouth. I already have the table, I already have my food. You don't have anything I want, so what would I duel you for? The thrill of hearing more of your witty remarks?” Ambrose asked.
The princess stammered, obviously at a loss. Apparently she didn't get denied her desires often, and was insulted even more rarely. “I am… I am a princess! I have access to any number of things. You could duel me for status! Money? Materials?” The princess suggested things as though desperate to bait Ambrose with something.
“I couldn't care less about status amongst people who would kowtow to buffoons. If I want more money, I can earn my own. And I can collect my own materials. You know, like how commoners do?” Ambrose said, shooting down her offers.
“What do you want, then, peasant? Surely there is something worth fighting for to you,” the princess said, looking a little desperate. It was a decent look on her, better than the gaudy gauntlet she wore.
Ambrose thought to herself. What would make fighting the princess worth it? What would make it so that she could get her food and maintain her peace throughout the semester. Nothing immediate came to mind, and a solution eluded her. Biding her time, she hummed to herself, wobbling her head from side to side as she thought.
“What do you want if you win the duel. I'm a commoner, so it's not like my life's savings will add much to your coffers. Nor do I understand why you'd want to have yourself publicly humiliated over a table,” Ambrose asked, curious.
“If I win I want your unquestioning servitude. For the semester,” the brunette said proudly, putting her hands on her hips and posing as though what she'd said deserved applause and fanfare.
“Ah. So it’s a creepy fetish thing,” Ambrose concluded before waving her hand and dismissing the thought of throwing the fight and giving up the table. She'd subject herself to eating tree bark, or walking home on hoof. She'd fought groups of people levels higher than her. But she wouldn't subject herself to the weird kinks of some noble family.
The princess stammered and gaped, her mouth opening and closing like she was a grounded fish, desperate to breathe somehow. Ambrose ignored her, cupping her chin and thinking. The princess wanted something from her for the duration of a semester. Which meant making a similar demand was not off of the table. That left her with a few options that could absolutely help her maintain her calm and peace, at least for the semester.
Before Ms.‘I'm the princess’ could collect herself and start shouting again, or her cronies got the brains to speak up for her, Ambrose spoke. “Okay. Fine. I will agree to duel you on the condition that, if you lose, you will, all three of you, sit at this table with me during meals, quietly and without causing trouble for me or anyone else while we dine for the remainder of the semester. That means no yelling, no challenges, no commanding people into your servitude. You will all be pleasant dining company and nothing else for the rest of the semester. Do you accept?”
