Elskia and I were in an awkward silence. Those tend to happen after an argument where one of you is wrong, and the other is right, but perhaps, maybe, has a few things they regret but feels like they shouldn't have to admit it until the other, more wrong person, apologizes.

From my perspective (the correct one), this is how it went down.

"Oh hi Elskia, why didn't you tell me your mother is a terrifying dragon-creature shapeshifter? That would have been very helpful to know, also I'm sorry about the smell, I can't smell anything anymore but based one everyone's expressions it's quite potent."

"My mother is awake?! I've waited so long to get to know her!" and then she went on about how her childhood was lonely, desperate to understand who she was, etcetera. Back to me.

"Hey where's your dragonskin? I bet I could use it on the hunt! That would be awesome! I would be like Rawr! and then Roddy would be like 'no don't eat me!' and then, get this, I'd eat him."

"I had my father hide it from me because I'm selfish and didn't want you to have any fun, and not because of a deep struggle with my identity as a non-human in which I had no guidance, no reassurance that I was still essentially a good person."

There was something wrong with my memories. The more I played back the conversation in my head the more it seemed like I was the ass-hole. With great force of will I tried to imagine what the conversation had been like from Elskia's perspective. Hmm. I might, and it pained me to acknowledge this, need to apologize.

"Elskia, I...think I'm sorry. It was...unthoughtful? No. Thoughtless of me to bring up such sensitive topics for you in a cavalier manner. Your mother seemed...very nice. But also, I think she is crazy in a way you are not. So, yes...this concludes the apology."

Elskia sniffed and wiped her eyes, "Hero that might be the most inept apology ever said to me... but it was also one of the best. Thank you."

"And the smell?"

"Unforgivable," she replied instantly.

"I'll go find something rotten to roll in," I sighed.

"You will take a bath like a human man. Scents do not cancel out."

"'You will do this' 'You will do that'! You sound just like your mother!"

And I realized then, looking at Elskia's hungry expression, that she knew very little about her mother at all.

"Here, I'll tell you what happened again. Properly."

Even a rogue can’t be entirely heartless.

----------------------------------------

The hunting trial was set to begin the next day and I threw myself into preparations.

Elskia knew essentially nothing about hunting, and I knew less. I'd decided that a blowout victory wasn't strictly required—managing a good showing would be sufficient. The primary goal was to make Elskia's removal too awkward—she had the greater claim by default, we needed to ensure the nobility couldn't justify supporting Roderick over her.

The expectation was that each of us would bring an entourage on the hunt—But I couldn’t afford the risk of exposure that would bring.

Further experimentation had shown me that, as the tooltip stated, Doppelganger would only allow a given disguise to work twice. I needed to present as Elskia at least for my exodus and my return, and I couldn’t expect the disguise to hold up without issue. There was ample opportunity for slippage—the hunt was scheduled over five days, and the first and last of those were simply allotted to travel time.

I made a fair effort with the cosmetics and full access to Elskia's wardrobe, managing with great effort to present as a somewhat plain young woman. I would try to avoid it, but in the event that the disguise broke there needed to be someone claiming to be her wandering about.

The mudflats had essentially nothing in the way of proper hunting. The trial was organized around travelling afield to wherever our guts commanded us. Our options were a forest known for its game animals; a mountain pass with hardy goats and cliff-lions; and a fetid swamp filled with giant amphibians.

The forest seemed perfect for that. I’d buy the clothes off a huntsman, use his abilities to bag a deer or two, and return with the credibility of doing it all solo. I could imagine the praise now.

“So bold!” and “And right after an assassination attempt! That Elskia has the right stuff!”

I, naturally, had put the new advancement point towards ‘ACTING!’. I’d already been leaning that way, the prospect of gaining more of the skills and physical capacities of my disguises subjects was irresistible, and higher levels of Doppelganger were greyed out with a message ‘Skill is capped by your level’.

ACTING!: While disguised you become more capable of embodying your disguised target. You replicate some of their physical abilities.

All that remained was the Laughing Blade, which, stubbornly, was refusing to reveal its secrets. It was acceptably sharp, I’d learned that with a practice cut on my forearm, but I hadn’t suffered any ill effects. No gales of laughter, side-clutching chuckles, or irrepressible giggles whatsoever. But a magic sword is a magic sword, and I resolved to bring it along, optimistic that the Baroness hadn’t passed it on pointlessly.

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The morning before the hunt we hurried through the final steps. At Elskia's command Nana had pulled a set of riding leathers and travelling gear out of storage. Between the makeup, a length of Elskia's hair (cut tearfully by Nana), and the clothing; I managed to produce an fair impression of Elskia. Doppelganger made us nigh indistinguishable.

Nana fanned herself in the corner while Elskia and I studied each other. Overwhelmed no doubt by the presence of two darling doves.

"You look... colder, than I know myself to be."

"I took some liberties," I conceded, "You haven't appeared since the assassination. I want to make an impression."

Elskia nodded thoughtfully, "In that case, perhaps a few changes..."

We made adjustments to the outfit, a few key changes to makeup and Doppelganger accommodated the minor shifts until it was perfect.

The hour arrived.

I arrived fashionably late, a good quarter hour after that.

I marched into the hall like I owned the place. Because I did. The name I'd given the final look? Queen Bitch. It made generous use of black. There were some ornamental spikes, not enough to be cumbersome, but they did make a statement: Fuck you.

I'd chosen my entrance at the far end of the hall, forcing me to walk through the crowd to arrive at the raised throne. Or rather, forcing them to part before me. The few who dared to meet my eye were quick to look away. I could taste the fear in the crowd on my tongue, thickening as I caught more eyes. Silence reigned by the time I took my place next to Roderick.

"Hello Roderick. I'm glad to see you're well," I lied, intentionally badly.

"Likewise I'm sure, Elsie."

'ACTING!' tried to chime in: "You're being affected by an enchantment! An authentic representation should see you reduce hostility and behave in a more childlike manner!"

I blinked. That bastard. That bastard Bastard.

"My name is Elskia," I hissed, "and a bastard does not have license to speak so casually."

For the briefest moment Roderick looked shocked, and then I saw the black resentment well up and strip him of caution.

"You are taking quite a risk aren't you? Going forth alone so soon after an assassination attempt. Who's to say they won't try again. You really have done very little to find favour from the court. Everyone knows the hunt is dangerous."

Threaten me? ME?

"I met with my mother. We had a lovely chat," I said calmly, delighted by how the non-sequitur stripped the blood from his face.

"The Baroness cannot interfere, she is bound." But it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

"And she won't. So long as I return to the keep. If I'm hurt or worse, well, I just don't know what she'll do! She did have suggestions though. Oh it's terrible to consider isn't it? And the roads really are so dangerous, even without those nasty assassins. Why, what if I slipped? Or decided I didn't favour this life at all and never returned? Can you imagine? What a terrible misunderstanding that would be."

Roderick looked steadily more ill as I spoke.

"You'd have her destroy the keep," he hissed.

"It's called insurance. I wouldn't need to take such measures if we were having a civilized competition. But some people can't play well with others. Well? Don't you have a set of orders to rescind? If you move quickly they might even return most of your deposit."

Roderick had a daunted expression, but eventually it shifted into a calculating look.

"The Baroness will not act so long as you aren't threatened? And you...you'll abide by the rites of succession?"

"That's all I ever wanted brother, a fair contest." By certain definitions of fair, I thought to myself.

"Then it seems you've outmanoeuvred me. It is now in my interest to ensure your welfare." His voice was all honeyed silk, a facade of graceful defeat.

And how it must sting.

"But I can't allow you to go into the wilderness alone—we must guarantee your return after all... Take one of my men as an escort."

"And have a stone around my neck through the trial? Ha! Not likely." How dumb did he think I was?

A vein in Roderick's temple throbbed, but he kept his tone cool. "I procured the services of a...unique guide from a distant land...at great expense. We are unacquainted, you can ask anyone. I will...transfer...the...contract." If there was anything that made his offer credible it was how obviously pained he was to make it.

I considered the possibility, there were still significant problems, but if there was one thing I could take advantage of it was Roderick's self interest. I decided to at least take a look.

"Summon them here. Now. If you make any exchange of information with them I will assume it is orders to hinder me."

Roderick grimaced again, but gestured a peon over. In a clear and carrying voice he told them to bring the ranger. I watched him closely, but there was no further exchange. I doubted he could have prearranged such a convoluted plot, my essential purpose now was to assess this 'ranger' and ensure their transfer to me was without caveats.

After a few minutes Roderick's man returned, leading an...eccentric character. He had fair features, if a touch sharp to be considered conventionally attractive. Threaded through his dark hair were green leaves and the occasional wildflower, creating a mosaic of colour which reflected the incredible chaos of the rest of his charm and fetish laden garb. His pointed ears also reached a good four inches over his head, but I didn't hold that against him.

He had stopped a dozen feet away, looking uncertainly between Roderick and I, as if unsure of who to approach.

"Me," Roderick said resignedly, and he drew a broken twig from his breast pocket. The elf brightened up and began to walk to Roderick.

"Hold!" Roderick put his palm out, "I'm transferring your contract to my sister. Do you understand?" He pushed the twig into my hands. "You. Work. For. Her. Now." He spoke slowly and loudly, in the beautiful universal language of tourists.

The elf came to me with some mild confusion, but produced a similarly broken twig from where it had been snarled in his hair and matched it, broken end to broken end to the twig I now held.

"When he loses track of you just match the twig again, it's the only way he can keep track of us. I know it's inconvenient but elves really do make the best hunters."

I wasn't listening. I was grinning ear to ear. He was perfect.

"A pale sun rises, the beasts of the wood call their sorrow," the elf said softly, in what I guessed was some kind of greeting.

If it were possible I would have grinned wider. He couldn't even talk normal! My worry that this 'guide' would potentially learn of my true identity and spread the truth was resolved. I could drop the disguise and he probably wouldn't even notice, and even if he did what would he say? 'A fawn's spots ran down the cougar's nose'—utter gibberish.

"Ever so generous of you Roderick, ever so generous. Well you heard the elf, those beasts of the wood won't silence themselves." I began my march away from the throne, carelessly forcing the crowd to part before me once again. I ignored the patter of entreaties and well-wishes. They wanted a strong leader, they were going to get her.

I was nearly at the doors when someone had the absolute gall to step in front of my path: Hugh.

"Does the maste-I mean, mistress require another to aid her?" he implored.

I came to a standstill. Hugh was being remarkably clever. Too clever.

Though he had seen enough of my style I supposed it was inevitable. I glanced back at Roderick to ensure we weren't being observed, but he was thronged with his party as they prepared for their own exit—rushed no doubt by my moving up the itinerary.

"No Hugh, I'm sure you have other responsibilities. Besides, we'll see each other again shortly."

I was worried how he'd take the rejection, little guy seemed to have really become... attached. But if anything his eyes seemed to grow more intent.

"I understand. No thoughts." And before I had a chance to add anything else he was running off.

We left the keep, and I wondered idly if perhaps Hugh had some mudfolk blood in him. It would explain a lot.