Galen Vesa

“Shouldn’t I get a weapon?”

*No. Not yet. The urge to use it may overwhelm you regardless of your proficiency. Also, do I need to remind you again that skilled fighter avoids damage and does not wait for his opponent to strike his weapon. Unless you are trying to commit suicide, that is. *

“Aha. No weapon. Right. So, what am I supposed to do?”

*Avoid. *

Her fist suddenly rearranged my jaw and sprawled me on my back.

*Wrong! Less thinking, more moving! Had that hit you in the outside world, your neck would snap. Get up! *

I did and another right hook put me down. And she was holding back. Or so she said…

Not my idea of entertainment but she kept on blackmailing me into those sessions every time I had a moment to myself.

*Focus! *

At the last second, I backed away from her uppercut, but her elbow got me in the cheek and yet again my butt hit the ground.

“W-waih… a momeh… pheease…”

I pushed my jaw back into its rightful place.

“Can we go a bit slower? I had never…”

Erta’s boot said “no” and my face flown away pulling the rest of my body alongside.

“Oy, what’s the point? I can’t even see you moving. How am I supposed to dodge?”

*Then get faster! You have good eyes, use them! *

Suddenly a freight train hit me. On second thought, nope. Not a train. Just a crazy dragon in high heeled boots.

By some miracle, I managed to roll away before the pointed heel could sink into my eye socket.

“Oy roomie, weren’t you supposed to hold back?”

*I am. Do not fret. You cannot die here. I think. *

Should I worry?

Her silhouette blurred out and vanished. At that distance It will take a heartbeat if she goes straight at me or a bit more if she comes from a side.

At random I turned left and brought my arms up and held them before me like they do in the movies to block a kick from below. To our mutual surprise her leg materialized with my arms in the way and, well, it went like I thought it would. I flown away like a wet noodle.

*Do not block. Avoid! Especially if your opponent can break your guard with raw power. Again! *

Fear whimpered, hiding behind courage. The little boy patted my arm with a “you can do it” smile. My jaw thought otherwise as it once more popped out of its socket. Erta did not pull her punches.

“Karin!”

“Are you there? Did you not hear me?”

The reality came back with a snap and a distorted perception of time. Where was I?

Getting my ass pulverized by a sadistic dragon? No. Not there. The crimson eyes staring at me did not belong to her and, I looked at myself. Yep, the pillows were where I left them. Only now, a sea of white sparkling chiffon hugged me from all sides. Eh.

It took us three weeks to get to Avasill. Three miserable weeks in a box on wheels with little room to spare and even less to do. I pretended to sleep whenever I could and Erta kicked my puny ass when I did. Lessons, she called it. I disagree.

Vi came around. She stopped crying and started talking. Kind off. Stiff under the watchful eye of our guild master, she carefully crafted each sentence. Painful task if I were to risk a guess. Small talk mostly. Like have I seen this or that? Did I taste that town’s specialty wine or where did I go?

Ah, yes. We crawled through some uncomfortable topics. Altina being the source of most. So, you were a charmer. Why? Where did you work? Did you escape from a brothel? Have you killed your owner? Are you a slave?

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The usual fun stuff.

I faked what I could and ignored what I couldn’t fake. After about a week they gave up and left me alone. We rode in moderate silence, broken from time to time by occasional curses of our coach driver whenever we hit a bump in the road.

And Chuko glared.

Though, that came to pass when I let her use my pillows and my blanket. She slept propped against me and earned plenty of jealous stares from Vi. Whatever for.

About halfway there, Altina sent ahead riders with my dimensions and a request for the tailor’s guild. That resulted in my current predicament.

Being stuck on a dais in a dress-to-be.

“Yes?”

“Your arms. Lift your arms.”

I did.

“Turn.”

A wave of ripples traveled through the sea of silver satin.

“Is it not beautiful? No one will resist this look!”

Head seamstress Loarna, a woman of rather dubious intentions crooned prizes for their work. The monstrosity they put about me, otherwise known as a wedding gown, spilled away from my body in cascades of fabric. How on earth does one walk in this thing?

“It is… fake.”

Altina circled around me. The dress, I am no expert, would charm people for sure but, like the master said, my face did not belong in it. Even though they made it to measure, the dress seemed out of place. As if cut for a different person.

“It is not acceptable. Redo it.”

Aha. More standing around, getting stabbed with needles. Poor pins and needles. They lost so many of them on me. All bent.

*Well, I agree with the wolf. It makes your butt look fat. *

Roomie, our butt is fat. The right kind of fat. Not too skinny, not too fat. Just right kind of fat. Distributed in all the right places. In perfect proportion with my pillows.

*The dolt complains. Now that did not happen before. *

Am I? That is beside the point. Can we limit our lessons to when we’re alone? They already suspect us of who-knows-what. Better if we don’t give them any more reasons to doubt us.

Loara went purple. The order we rushed took all their most skilled seamstresses four days to complete, or so she said, and the customer just waved it off. Anger boiled off her in visible fumes, but she restrained herself.

“Of course, if it is not to your liking madame, some adjustments can be made.”

The look Altina gave me called for torches and pitchforks and not just adjustments.

“Perhaps if we try something like this?”

Silent so far, Vittoria spoke from the corner. She held a parchment with charcoal sketch of me. Me in an outfit. Has she been doing that all this time?

“Is that possible?”

The guild master asked with not at all good shine in her. The seamstress took the parchment and inspected the design.

“Perhaps. Are you certain of these colors?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes went from the design to me and back again. Intrigued and no longer fuming.

“There will be no time for adjustments if the date still stands?”

“It does.”

“Then we will do our utmost. If I may excuse myself then.”

She bowed and left with Vittoria’s design. No one even bothered to ask me of my thoughts.

*Not that you had anything to say. *

Et tu, roomie?

*Oh, do not despair my little dolt. You shall look fabulous. *

If only she hadn’t laugh while saying that then perhaps, I could consider it a compliment.

It took about an hour to extract me from this monstrosity and another one to pack Vi into it to her unhidden horror. An attempt to salvage whatever we could from the dress worth more in gold than I ever earned back on earth.

And the effect was worth it.

“You look good.”

“Fitting is the word I would use.”

Altina corrected me with a frown. Do not encourage her. She said time and time again.

“Yes, we will take this one as well. And Karin, cover yourself with something already.”

Oh. Force of a habit.

I’ve put on the hastily provided gown and sat down. Weddings. Why would anyone want to go through all this? I can well understand the safety a stable family can provide but the notion of throwing such an extravagant party eludes me.

*You are not alone in that regard. *

I felt pain rooted deeply within her soul. Fresh as if she lost him just a moment ago.

*Do not pity me. I have no regrets over my choice. I would not trade the time we had for anything. *

I thought of my parents. Were they the same? I hardly ever knew them. Heroes. Not that I cared. Not anymore.

Vittoria cried out.

Ah, the pins.

“You seem – absent. Is something bothering you?”

Said the wolf in a tuxedo and sat beside me. One of our maids came with tea and I accepted a cup to escape from pointless chatter. Soft white tea with a hint of lemon grass.

“Well?”

She sipped from her cup. She sipped tea with a muzzle. How does that work? No matter. She expected an answer, so I gave her one.

“I have played a glorified coat hanger before. I do not care for the dress or what people think. You want me doing a public display of sorts? Then I shall but, if you excuse me, my thoughts are my own and I am not a social person.”

She huffed and this time lapped her tea with her tongue.

“Be it as you may but let me distract you from those glum thoughts. This morning I have received a formal invitation in an answer for my letter. I explained the lord our presence here and our purpose and her he acknowledged it in rather ecstatic manner. You are to be his guest of honor.”

*Splendid…*

Do not dramatize. It could be worse.

“Why? I do not know him.”

“A, but he knows you. Or the work you have done. There are gossips spreading. Nobles talking about the effects of your blessings. Spirits of high standing appearing to witness the contract being made. Some people even going as far as to say they received the spirit’s favor.”

Oh. I am sorry. It is bad. If those four are involved… Think we shall have a talk with them?

*To make matters worse? No dolt. Do not get yourself involved. *

“Does he expect anything of the sort?”

Altina rubbed her muzzle in a thoughtful manner.

“I would not be surprised.”

She gave me a long hard look and added in a hushed voice.

“They might not be the perfect choice but, given the circumstances, can you? Someone of a lesser class…”

“Whatever powers you ascribe me, I do not have such control over them. I had little choice in the matter of the company. Consider it a game between the four.”

“A game?”

“Yes. Whoever makes my life more convoluted wins.”

And I couldn’t be closer to the truth.