"So three days?" Lorissa asked.

She and Stanton were walking to school with Cassandra. It had been a lot of work to settle into the course load for Lorissa, and learn how to fight with a katana, but she threw everything she had at it. The new sword style was interesting, and she was finding so much overlap between the meditation Swiftpaw had taught her to do and what was needed to sharpen her magic that both had become easier.

"It'll only be for a day and overnight. And I can use the shortcut since I don't have any magic to undo." Stanton knew what it would be, though. It would be tea and lunch and afternoon cakes and dinner and supper and drinks—with a parade of young women and girls. "I'm sure you can both survive without me. If you want, I could make a golem to replace—" He had to dodge the punches from both sides, laughing.

"One of us should go with him." Lorissa had spent a little time figuring out her angle on this. Stanton might not care if she goes, but she knew Cassandra would be annoyed. "You know, to stop anyone from getting too touchy when they should be looky."

Clearing her throat, Angel waited until she had everyone's attention. "I can take care of that!" When Lorissa and Cassandra both looked at her with raised eyebrows, she asked, "What?"

"Angel," Lorissa said, giving the flying canine a little boop on the nose, "you have done nothing but try to get Stanton dating guys, girls, or anyone you can find. I wouldn't trust you not to help his mom."

"I can go with you"—Cassandra's brain shoved a huge YIELD sign in front of her mouth as it realized that would mean she'd have to use the magic-destroying teleporter—"but I am completely snowed under by classwork right now."

It was exactly what Lorissa had planned for. She had talked to Cassandra about why they hadn't teleported to and from the party that started the whole mess for herself, and she caught a hint that Cassandra was afraid of the teleporter. "I promise I will not let anyone get within handshake-range of him."

Stanton tried to explain how that wouldn't work. "You can't—"

"Stanton," Cassandra said, "don't interrupt. Thanks, Lorissa, I guess you have a good reason to go, too." When Stanton looked at her like she was crazy, Cassandra realized she'd have to explain it. "Lorissa's into girls, Stanton."

"Yeah, Stanton," Lorissa said. "I'm into girls." She then made a point of looking over at Cassandra and waggling her eyebrows.

Cassandra, who was as comfortably straight as she was sure Lorissa was firmly gay, struck a pose with her hip to the side and reached down to pick up a corner of her long skirt to show off a little leg.

Licking her finger and pressing it to Cassandra's hip, Lorissa made a hissing sound. "You hear that, Stanton? She is smoking hot."

Satisfied that her interests were well-served by her friend, Cassandra put her arm around Lorissa's shoulder and gave her a hug. "Thanks for looking after him."

"Hey, what are friends for? Besides, it's not like we want some frail little noble girl scared of her own shadow hanging around with us. It's bad enough dealing with Stanton in the first place." Lorissa put her arm around Cassandra and gave Stanton her best knowing grin.

"Ugh. Alright. Lorissa, I'll get a pass for you. You can bring your cat too if you want. I doubt it will be more than Mother giving me the name of some werewolf girl she's queued up for me, but if it is, I'd rather have some company to fight off the boredom." With his memory of the last visit still hanging over him, Stanton worked to steer the conversation to classes. "How are you doing with your channeling, Lore?"

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"Didn't your mom say you were supposed to wear a dress this time?" Lorissa asked. Balanced on her shoulder, Swiftpaw didn't even bother opening his eyes.

They were standing in the large central building where the three teleportation pads were situated. The one for people was before them, and the sign above it flicked over a few panels before settling on capital. The conductor at the front cleared his throat. "Gold pass ticket holders for the capital, please step forward!"

Far from being the only well-dressed folk waiting, Stanton was nonetheless the first (and, including Lorissa, the only two) to step forward. Holding out his little golden medallion, he looked back to see Lorissa fishing for hers. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah. Did you know this dress doesn't have pockets? How insane is that?" At a loss as to where her ticket was, Lorissa finally noticed Swiftpaw lift his namesake and let a little slip of gold paper float before her. "Oh, thank you." She grabbed the ticket from the air and sauntered forward—which took effort in a dress.

Watching Lorissa walk toward him was more amusing than arousing, given she seemed in a perpetual fight with the dress as to how far she could stride. When she finally got herself on the platform beside him, he said, "And, if you must know, I have arranged a villa suite nearby mother's estate in the city. We'll both get changed there."

Glaring at Stanton, Lorissa almost snarled, "So I didn't have t—"

Then the teleportation spell activated and they were pulled through a rip in space and returned none the worse for wear on a similar platform in the capital city.

"Ugh, they always cut me off in the middle of a good rant." Lorissa stepped off the platform, her new magical senses making her far more aware of the raw volume of magic needed to send two people and their familiars across the country.

"Ahem. Would sir wish to register a complaint?" It was his duty to ask, but the conductor hated the idea of ratting on one of his fellows. He knew full well, though, that the pair would have to be gold tickets—which meant high nobility.

"Of course not," Stanton said. "As magic users ourselves, we fully understand the capricious nature of magic. Expediency and consistency is of far greater value than whatever conversation we were in."

Lorissa blinked in surprise a few times and then chased after Stanton, since he'd used her confusion to escape. "Hey, what you just did back there."

"Huh?" Stanton asked.

Cursing soundly at the dress she had on, Lorissa let out a few nyas before catching up to him outside the building. "That whole thing you did. It wouldn't have mattered if you told that guy they'd cut me off."

"Lore, the thing with being a noble is that people listen to every word you say. That guy might have been having a bad day, and otherwise be the nicest of people, but if I'd said he annoyed me—he'd be without a job." Shrugging, Stanton spotted what he'd been waiting for and held out his hand.

The little two-seated buggy stopped right before the pair. Lorissa did her best to go with the flow and climb up into it with Stanton, but her skirts got in the way and she fell onto his lap. "Ugh, this damn dress. Stanton, I'm taking this off the moment we get home."

Raising one eyebrow, out of sight of her passengers of course, the driver of the buggy asked, "Where to?"

Giving directions, Stanton intentionally pulled Lorissa further across his lap, and cradled her in his arms while Swiftpaw made a clawing motion at his hand. "Did you mean it?" he asked, lowering his voice.

Normally the one to make a move, Lorissa blinked her eyes up at Stanton in her best attempt at innocence. "Mean what, sir?"

"That you'll get undressed once we arrive?" Now waggling his eyebrows, Stanton couldn't help but laugh. "How can you be so bad in a dress?"

"Like you're any— Ugh. I hate that I know you're graceful wearing a dress, and I'll only console myself with the image of you wearing one." Lorissa finally extracted herself from Stanton's arms and lap, sliding onto the seat beside him. "I liked it better when I wore the pants and you the dress."

She wanted to say it out loud, but the driver barely kept the groan and nobles comment under her breath. "We're almost there, sir, madam."

Fending off Lorissa with one arm, Stanton reached into his pocket and pulled out an IOU note with his maternal family crest on it. Flicking the pencil from his wrist-sheath, he quickly scribbled down an amount that was a generous tip and pressed his thumb to it. The little paper took a brief trickle of mana to mark it and it was sealed under his name.

When the buggy stopped, and Lorissa managed to get off the thing without falling on her face, she noticed Stanton pass the driver a note. Making sure that Swiftpaw was cozy on her shoulder, she got clear of the buggy and waited for Stanton before asking, "What was with the note?"

"Several things. First, she will absolutely recognize my house insignia on it. Second, I paid her above the normal tip, so she will have a second incentive not to gossip about us. Third, the tip also means she knows she can get a bonus next time she sees us. In a world where so many people love to hear their own voice"—Stanton had to pause to deliberately ignore Lorissa's snort—"a little encouragement to spread silence doesn't go astray."

"Are we there yet?" Angel asked. She'd been riding in the hood of Stanton's robes and now poked her head out to look around. "Are we there yet?"

"Angel, if you ask that one more time, I'm buying a backpack for you that has fasteners on it," Stanton said. He waited a moment to see if she'd ask again before he walked up to the front door of the building and pressed a stone from his pocket to the door handle and channeled a little magic through it.

"Why is so much stuff using magic? Is this all part of some stupid aristocratic thing?" At this point Lorissa grabbed each side of her dress, pulled her skirts up to her knees, and followed Stanton inside.

"Yeah, it is. That's the point for people who want to show off how special they are. They have all this stuff that uses magic, so instantly anyone of lower birth who doesn't have magic is excluded."

The tone Stanton used took all the barbs off the words and cast them in a more sarcastic light. "You hate it, don't you?"

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"I've been friends with Cass for long enough that I think some of her views are rubbing off on me. Some nobles—a lot of nobles—take a little too much of the privilege and not enough of the responsibility." Walking through to the master bedroom, Stanton drew his wand out of a pocket. "Hey, wand, can I get my wardrobe in here please?"

With a flash of incredible power two doors appeared on one side of the room where, formerly, there were none. Kissing the top of the wand, Stanton thanked it and tucked it back into a pocket. "Okay, I need something stylish and extravagant! Wardrobe, Angel, what can you get me?"

Spiraling out of Stanton's hood, Angel led a trail of sparkles in her wake as she flew to the wardrobe. "Did I ever tell you how much I love you, Stanton? Wait"—stopping dead, Angel turned to look back at Stanton through narrowed eyes—"you do mean a dress, right?"

"Yes, Angel. I want something big and amazing and absolutely fashionable. Can you do it?"

Flinging open the doors, Angel shot inside the wardrobe like a fuzzy, lupine missile. Dresses, underthings, accessories, and shoes were all targets to her laser-focus.

"I heard yelling. Are you okay?" Lorissa poked her head around the corner of the doorway, hoping she might get a peek at Stanton. Seeing that he was still fully dressed as a male, she let out a little huff of disappointment.

Squinting at Lorissa, Stanton couldn't stop a big grin as he came up with a plan. "Hey, Angel, once you have my stuff worked out, would you mind getting something for Lore too?"

Angel launched herself out of the wardrobe under a pile of clothes that she dropped on the bed. "Put these on and I'll get more for her. I'll have to account for color matching now. Eeee! And then I get to do your makeup and hair!"

"What have you done?" Lorissa glared at Stanton. "Now she's going to pick something even worse than this!"

"Look, if I offer you a kiss, will you wear a pretty dress for me?" Stanton asked, delivering what he hoped was a sincere and encouraging look. And, with how he recognized Lorissa's expression of outrage crack, he knew he'd scored a direct hit. "Angel, I want her to look amazing!"

Lorissa shuddered at another high-pitched squeal of excitement from the wardrobe. "What kind of kiss?"

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They were both wearing amazing, full-length gowns that concealed their feet and had more layers of dress than Angel could actually count. Stanton's was a deep blue dress while the exposed corset was white and had an exquisite set of ribbons running down the back. He knew this because Angel had made him twirl around before the mirrors. His hair was decorated with cascades of pink and white ribbons, while he sported blue eyeshadow to match the dress.

Lorissa was practically his opposite. Yellow dress and white corset, a far less vivid eyeshadow but still obviously a slightly sparkling yellow, the ribbons in her hair (that Angel had used magic to make waist-length) were blue and white. She had nibbled her lower lip while Angel did her hair, unused to having so much—but the blue ribbon was what had her giggling inside. It was as much as announcing there was a link to Stanton. "About my kiss?"

It wasn't exactly hard for Stanton to work up to it—Lorissa looked gorgeous, after all. He raised one eyebrow and moved in for the kill. Stepping slightly to the side, he put one arm behind her shoulder and steadied her hips with the other before bending down as he tilted her back.

Too used to being the forward one in a relationship, Lorissa's heart fluttered at finding herself being treated like a young lady. His lips, when they met hers, tasted of blueberries and a hint of vanilla. She shivered and relaxed into the kiss, her eyes meeting Stanton's for a moment before fluttering closed. He was an entirely different person; suave, self-assured, and in control. All the times she'd taken the initiative, he'd always felt confused and delicate.

As he drew back, though, Lorissa's lips curved into a deep smile and she sighed. "That was worth wearing all the dresses in the world."

"I'll hold you to that." Stanton tried to ignore the giddy feeling inside that had only amplified at the compliment to his method. "Come on, Mother will be waiting."

"She's waiting for us?" Despite Lorissa's earlier claim, she was not exactly sure about wearing her current dress, let alone all the dresses in the world. When she took a few steps, though, she found the skirts moving better with her legs than the previous one did.

"Probably not, but when we arrive she will make sure that I know she could have been waiting. Angel, are you coming?" Stanton asked on his way to the front door.

Spinning like a bullet leaving a rifled gun, Angel shot out of the wardrobe in a dress that matched Stanton's before landing on his shoulder. "We need to dress up like this more often!"

"Careful, Angel, or Mom will have you dressing in court fashion." Opening the door, Stanton held it for Lorissa to step through with Swiftpaw on her shoulder before following them. "And last I looked, that was horrid."

"It can't be that bad," Lorissa said.

"You'll see. I bet Mother has at least one or two stunning examples there today."

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After a short walk along the street and an even longer one through the gardens of the Sharptooth manor grounds, Lorissa was starting to get a little concerned. "How big is your family again?"

"You should know, you were the one trying to kidnap one of their scions for fun and profit." Sparing Lorissa a lopsided grin, Stanton gestured to the manor house. "Surely you wouldn't kidnap a random noble girl without knowing her mother was one of the big commanders of the nation's military?"

"You're not going to let me live that down, are you?"

Stanton laughed. "Not until you do something crazier. Come on around the side, we don't want to get caught by—"

"Stanton Raveel-Sharptooth!"

The shout of his full name, and the particular inflection on it, made Stanton want to roll on his back and bare his throat in panic. "Oh no."

Narrowing her eyes from the kitchen entrance of the manor, housekeeper Valerie-Anne had been waiting in ambush for her errant charge to return. "You will come here this instant young man."

As Stanton walked over, he felt more and more as if he wanted to disappear inside his dress. Anyone but his mother and three aunts would slump their tails and accept whatever punishment Valerie-Anne offered, even if she only stood five foot nothing and had not an ounce of lycanthropy in her heritage. "I thought we wouldn't raise a fuss and go through the—" His sentence was doomed to die an early death; when Valerie-Anne used your whole name, you were not to be accorded any favors.

"You are here to meet your brides-to-be, Stanton Raveel-Sharptooth, and that means today is vastly more important than you deserve." Her critical eyes ran over Stanton. "Her ladyship Sharptooth already informed me of your situation. While I can't say I agree with your methods, attempting to repair the last five years of what fashion has done to the prospects of the young ladies of the house is noble enough. Now get yourself around to the front door and make a proper entrance."

"Yes'm." Stanton knew when he'd been given an olive branch and didn't question it at all. Scurrying for all he was worth, he reached out for Lorissa's arm as she got close enough. "We have to come in the front door."

"Who was that?" Lorissa had to deal with her own grandmother often enough to know that such an authority figure had likely known Stanton all his life, but the way he'd immediately capitulated had shocked her beyond belief.

"That is the housekeeper Miss Valerie-Anne. When she yells, you do what she says because if she ever lowers her voice to a whisper, you'll be lucky to be able to walk the next day. She would defeat the dragon in an instant and then demand why I had wasted her time on such an inconsequential thing. She would glare the emperor himself into submission and demand to know why he'd worn his shoes indoors when they had mud on them."

When they reached the front door, Stanton walked up and saw an unfamiliar young face instead of the footman he remembered from two years back. "Stanton Raveel-Sharptooth and Lady Lorissa, here to see Lady Clarissa Raveel-Sharptooth-Brightfang."

"Right this way, Master Stanton."

Stanton knew his way around the house. He'd grown up in the manor for half of every year, and spent the early years finding every room, hall, and closet a young man shouldn't know about, and the latter years using them to hide from Valerie-Anne when she heard his name on the scullery maid's lips.

Following along, trying to keep her skirts under some semblance of control, Lorissa noticed that even Angel was more subdued. "How long have you and Angel been together?"

"Almost six months now. It's been a weird year for me." Reaching his fingers up, Stanton started petting at Angel's shoulder so that she started leaning against him, eyes closed. "But some things have made it all worthwhile."

"Like the power to save the world?" Angel asked, tilting her jaw up to let Stanton's fingers work under her chin.

"You knew I'd do anything for that."

The footman cleared his throat and opened the door into the manor's arboretum. "Announcing Master Stanton Raveel-Sharptooth and his guest Lady Lorissa." He stepped back and gestured Stanton and Lorissa forward.

Lorissa wasn't sure how she counted as a lady, but the inside of the overly large enclosed garden was full of bright colors. Young women stood or sat around the room in a range of things from dresses to the most horridly boyish pants she'd ever seen. In the middle, though, was a woman whose gaze drifted over Lorissa like she was barely there—before settling on Stanton.

Perfectly accustomed to having pride of place in her own home, Clarissa Sharptooth-Raveel-Brightfang looked her son up and down. "Well, you did something right. Who is your friend?"

Formal, Stanton realized, was how his mother was acting today. What he wasn't sure of was why. His gaze flicked over the gathered women but came back to his mother. "Allow me to introduce you to my savior!" Stanton turned to the side, took a half step back, and lowered himself down into a curtsy while gesturing to Lorissa. "This wild rose defended me against a swarm of bandits. I was unarmed and without my magic, so she cut down hundreds of filthy curs before carrying me three days back to her village where she nursed me back to health."

When Stanton glanced her way, Clarissa snorted. "What really happened?" When Stanton's eyes flicked around, she sighed. "These aren't your suitors, Stanton. Chase brought his family over and then left them with me while he sought out the city guard to inspect."

"Why can't you ever let me lie? I'm told I'm quite good at it." Turning to look at Lorissa, Stanton asked, "I'm quite good at it, aren't I?"

"Swiftpaw was right, Stanton, you sell the lie too hard. Don't give all the details. Let yourself be questioned and have the answers ready to use—but you do tell a good story." Knowing all too well how he would spill the beans, Lorissa sighed. "I kidnapped your son, planned to hold him for a modest ransom, but gave it all up because he actually proved useful."

"See, Stanton?" Clarissa lifted the corner of her mouth into a half smile. "That is how you lie. I want to ask questions, to find out how you actually became useful." She then looked at Lorissa, whom she had realized shared a name close to her own. "There are lies there, but I will happily ignore them because your companion seems capable—she had to be if she managed to drag you to do actual work for a change."

"You mean he's always been like that?" Lorissa asked.

"My dear girl, Stanton learned how to teleport himself when he was four, I'm sure of it. Usually into the arms of one of the house maids, if rumors are correct."

It was at that moment that Stanton realized he'd made a huge mistake. His mother and Lorissa, apart from having similar sounding names, got along. "There's a party tonight, right?"

"Yes, dear, there is. Oh, you'll not be making a fool of me, but this is mostly to gauge the appeal the young court ladies find in you. You have made this rather more vexing than it was going to be." Arising from her seat, Clarissa walked with purpose to stride around Stanton—inspecting him with all the attention of an officer trying to find a reason to come down on a soldier. "A very good effort, but I believe we can improve."

"Hey, I did my best! He looks very pretty!" Angel, taking offense at the critique, stood up and glared at Clarissa.

"Yes, I see that, but I want a few steps past pretty. There will be several young ladies tonight for whom my son should be the apple of their eye, though I am sure if we give him a little more polish, they will practically do battle to be the one to gain his full attention." She reached out and picked up Angel and turned her to look at Stanton. "See, if we brought his hair up a little, we could use it to frame his face and hide some of the sharp lines. A little blush on his cheeks, a touch of magic to his lashes, and I think this foundation you've built will have all the window dressing needed to sell him."

Now staring at a pair of uncompromising faces that were studying his every feature with an eye to improving it, Stanton turned to look at Lorissa. "Lore, can you please help me?"

"See, the problem there is I make it a point not to fight werewolves," Lorissa said.

"What?" Stanton's voice came out in a squeak. Correcting his tone a little, Stanton could feel four arms reaching for him. "Since when?"

Taking a careful step back, Lorissa smiled as sweetly as the cat who'd caught the canary. "Since about five minutes ago. Good luck!"

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This story is released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. If you are paying money to see this or the original creator, Damaged, is not credited, you are viewing a plagiarized copy of the story.