Jet stared at the clothes on the bed and backed up a step. “You can’t be serious.”

“Madame is very serious,” a solemn voice replied from behind him.

Jet jumped and whirled. George stood behind him, hands folded behind his back. He nodded at Jet and waited.

“When did you get there?” Jet asked, startled.

“I’ve been here all the while, sir. I’m here to assist sir with changing,” George replied.

Jet licked his lips. “May I confirm… is tonight a fancy-dress party?”

George blinked.

Looking at the clothes again, Jet took a deep breath. “Never mind.” Whatever the crazy dragon ex-king wants me to wear. I don’t want to piss her off and end up with two dragon kings going at it in the capital.

Come to think of it… the True Dragon is much larger than other dragons. Gideon’s true form and even Ravenna’s are only about the size of ordinary lesser dragons. Does becoming the king give them a size boost? But then… Ravenna was the Dragon King, so why would she shrink again? Actually, True Dragons are rare… is that because only one can be the Dragon King? But… then, no dragon would be able to fight the Dragon King… so how…

Jet frowned, thinking, then shook his head. Dragons are nonsense in the first place. I shouldn’t concern myself too much with their politics and biology. When it comes down to facing the True Dragon, Gideon will fight one way or another, and that’s all that really matters. Whether it's in his dragon form or as a mage, that's his problem, not mine.

He turned to the clothes on the bed again and took a deep breath. With some trepidation, he started to take off his shirt.

Halfway through, he turned and looked at George. “Er, do you mind?”

“Naturally.” George stepped forward and took ahold of his trousers.

Jet jumped back, preserving his trousers. “Ex—excuse me, I—could you leave? I can dress myself.”

“Mistress indicated that you were nobility. Please, allow me to assist you,” George replied.

“No, no, I’m… smalltime nobility. I’ve dressed myself for years, I don’t need any assistance,” Jet replied, backing away.

“Are you certain? There’s no need to be shy. I’ve dressed Madame and Master Gideon for years,” George replied.

“I’m certain, I’m—you dressed Gideon?” Jet asked, eyes twinkling. At last, dirt on Gideon!

George inclined his head. “Since he was little, until he left home. I certainly hope he didn’t struggle on the streets, without anyone to dress him…”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“How old was he when he left home?” Jet asked, grinning.

George tipped his head. “I suppose… fifty.”

Jet blinked. “Eh?” Fifty? He’s barely in his mid-twenties! …in appearance. But naturally, he’s a dragon. He can become whatever age he wants, probably.

George nodded. “It was quite young for him to leave the nest. Madame insisted he was ready, but if it were up to me… of course, he left in quite a rush. I believe he fled in the middle of the night. Madame and I watched him from the upper window. It was quite the adorable scene.”

“Fled… in the middle of the night?” Jet frowned. Why would he run away? And wait… they watched him ‘secretly flee?’ So much for escaping!

George sighed and shook his head. “He’s never been fond of dragons. When he discovered he, himself, was one, it was a bit of a blow to the child. And besides, he was young, barely on the verge of adulthood. I believe humans refer to it as the rebellious stage?”

Gideon’s rebellious stage? When did it end? Has it ended yet? Jet sighed and rubbed his brows. “How old is Gideon? Tell me honestly.”

“Not much older than two hundred. Still a fledgling, really,” George replied.

“And he didn’t know he was a dragon until he turned fifty?” Wait, how on earth…? Did he not notice he wasn’t aging?

George shrugged. “Madame spun some yarn about his powerful magic keeping him youthful and limited his interactions with the local children. At the time… and to this day, dragons are hunted in the human kingdom, after all. She feared for his life, as a hatchling whose scales had barely hardened. Once he was fifty, he was old enough to care for himself, so she let the truth leak out.”

Jet frowned. “So… why does he hate dragons?”

George shrugged again. “Some people hate milk or strawberries. Gideon hates dragons.”

“There wasn’t… any, er, traumatic event…?” Jet probed.

“Not truly, no,” George replied, shaking his head. “Besides, he’s not some delicate, neurotic creature. It would take a lot to shake him.”

Gideon, delicate? Yeah, that’s a joke. Jet frowned. “But…”

“Gideon takes after his mother in many ways. Liking to tell a good story is one of them,” George replied. He stepped forward and picked up the hose, holding them out to Jet.

Thoughtlessly, Jet stepped out of his trousers and into the hose with George’s help. George turned to fetch the shirt, and Jet finally snapped out of it. “I can dress myself, thanks!”

“Are you certain?” George said. His wrinkled face seemed to droop a bit, and he lowered the shirt he was holding out toward Jet.

Jet hesitated. He looked at George’s face and sighed. “Alright, alright. Just a bit.”

George lit up. He gestured Jet over warmly and set himself to work.

“It’s a bit tight, could you…”

“Patience. It’ll grow looser with time.”

“Ow! Not so rough!”

“Bear with it, bear with it, sir.”

“I can’t, I really can’t. I can’t take any more!”

“I’m sure you can. Deep breath, and let it out slow…”

Outside the door, Gideon and Angel exchanged a glance. After a moment, Gideon shrugged. “George is lonely, after all. And Jet’s been so busy on the road…”

Angel nodded slowly. “I did think it was odd that he paid no attention to me. Now it all makes sense.”

“Everyone has their own preferences, after all,” Elly said sagely, joining beside the two eavesdroppers with a solemn expression.

Jet slammed the door open, red-faced and furious. “You three! What’re you gossiping about right outside my door? I can hear you, you know!”

Gideon backed away with a smirk. “Don’t let us stop you.”

“Yes, yes. Who knows when we’ll have another opportunity?” Angel agreed.

Elly nodded along.

Eyes narrowed, Jet glared at them. “I was getting dressed. Getting. Dressed.”

“There’s no need to be so abashed. We don’t judge,” Gideon replied, palms up.

Jet stalked over and grabbed Gideon by the collar. “One more word…”

Leo walked out of the next door down and blinked, startled. He looked from Jet to Gideon, then turned to the girls, a questioning expression on his face.

“Boys,” Angel said, shaking her head.

Somehow more confused, Leo furrowed his brows. He looked around again, then shrugged.

“If everyone’s ready, shall we go?” Ravenna called from downstairs.