Stanton had to admit that it wasn't as bad as what he'd feared. When Angel had brought up his magical wardrobe, his mother had insisted he summon it, which had then resulted in further dressing going on as all his cousins started pawing through his dresses. That, however, hadn't distracted his mother.

"Mother, I understand why you're doing this," Stanton said, holding still while Clarissa worked at his hair to pin it up in various ways, "but what I don't get is why you're going to all this effort to teach Angel!"

"If she's to be your lady's maid in matters of fashion, she must know how to properly dress you." Having the time of her life, Clarissa had finally admitted that it was enjoyable having a daughter—even if he had other ideas about himself. "Hold still."

With more metal in his hair than the average chainmail coif contained, Stanton was finally completed. He stood there, feeling the extra weight of the pins holding his hair in position, and glared at his mother as she looked him over again. "Satisfied?"

"What do you think?" Clarissa asked Angel.

Tilting her head in the manner of your typical intrigued canine, Angel gave a little nod. "I worry the blush is too much, but I'll take your word on it. He's ready to become someone's blushing bride."

Lorissa knew that what was going on was exactly the sort of thing that Cassandra had been terrified of, but Lorissa trusted Stanton not to swoon at the first waif of a high society girl to cross his path. She also knew that fashion wasn't her thing. The dress was fine, as was her hair and makeup, but discussing fashion was a step too far and she'd have nothing to do with it. "When does this party start?"

"Guests will begin arriving at six," Clarissa said.

"That means," Stanton began, "that they are meant to be here at six, but will try to be fashionably late without ruining their chances at being selected. So, probably, any time between six and seven."

Smiling, Clarissa gave Stanton a nod. "You did manage to learn something about etiquette after all. That will make things easier. So, the plan is that they arrive one by one, they get introduced, and if any of them balk at your dress…?"

"I cut off their head?" Lorissa asked.

Baring her teeth, Clarissa laughed. "I like your energy. If you had a little canine blood in you—any at all—you'd be an excellent pick for Stanton."

It surprised Lorissa to hear. "Too bad all I've got is feline, nya." The rush of confidence from using the vocal tics was what Lorissa needed to finally make her move. "Wand, any chance of keeping my dress while you do your thing?"

Such hopes and dreams, however, were not to be. The flash of bright light and a torrent of magic lifted Lorissa up, twirled her around and, after a brief moment where her modesty was only saved by some exceptionally well placed ribbons, she dropped back to the floor wearing her catsuit-and-skirt—but now also wrapped in a gi and wearing a hakama around her waist. When Swiftpaw jumped to her wand and formed into the blade of her sword, she was complete.

Using one hand to guide her blade, Lorissa sheathed Swiftpaw at her side. "Well, nya?"

It was a surprise for Clarissa to see, and while she normally despised surprises, this one at least looked like it would entertain. Standing up to her full height, she embraced her lupine side. Enchantments about her person stashed her clothing so she wouldn't ruin it, replacing her dress with her combat armor. Steel plates wrapped her and chain mail grew all about her body in intricate patterns that protected but didn't hinder movement. She gained nearly two feet in height as the weight of her sword belt settled around her hips.

Looking down at Lorissa, Clarissa stalked around her in a circle, her aura of menace under a tight wrap. "Curious. A werecat?"

"Mother, cut her some slack. Some of my magic got hold of her and now she—" Stanton was silenced by a paw as big as his head spreading in his direction. "I'm not ten anymore. That won't work."

"Yes, nya, a werecat. Do you have a problem with that?" Lorissa had no idea why, but the hair on the back of her neck was up and her tail felt frizzy.

As an accomplished fighter, Clarissa took stock of Lorissa's stance and potential. She had to make a few guesses relating to what kind of feline traits the smaller woman had, but on the whole she expected she could deal with her easily. "We don't have time to spar, but if you can use that sword half as well as I expect you to, you are a dangerous woman."

Lorissa had only a moment longer of staring up at the biggest werewolf she'd ever seen before Clarissa was once more a middle-aged lady in a very large dress. Of the corded muscles, armor, and weapons there was no sight. She was about to return to her normal form when Clarissa tossed something at her.

Time slowed to a crawl for Lorissa. Her eyes locked onto the slight movement of the sweetmeat arcing toward her. In slow motion she drew her sword, entered a striking stance, and brought her blade down. Then she reversed the stroke and cut it in a different direction and, finally, she used the flat of her blade to knock it back toward Clarissa. The dark eyes of Stanton's mother followed her blade throughout its arcs, though Lorissa wasn't sure if the werewolf woman could have moved fast enough to keep up with her strikes.

Clarissa couldn't have reacted in time to stop the blade—not in her human form. She did catch the four pieces of canape as it came back toward her, assembling three of them neatly in her hand and popping the last in her mouth. "Your cuts were uneven," she said after daintily swallowing the snack, "but your style is excellent. You're still training, I hope?"

The critique and praise surprised Lorissa. She nodded. "Yes, nya. The power that sparked this is— It took the form of a familiar. Swiftpaw?"

Leaping from the wand-hilt, Swiftpaw landed on Lorissa's shoulder and looked at Stanton's mother with the barest hint of respect. "I train her to use me flawlessly."

Spending a few more moments staring at Swiftpaw, Clarissa let out a laugh. "Stanton Raveel-Sharptooth, where do you find these astounding women? First you discover a commoner with so much magic skill that my dear Rufus fell all over himself to arrange her a scholarship. Now you show me a shapeshifter with a sentient blade that moves fast enough that no human could match her?" Clarissa rounded on Lorissa again. "Do you have an ounce of aristocratic blood in you? Even a drop?"

"Mother, she hasn't. I would have told you in my last report if she did." Stanton walked over and leaned against Lorissa. "She's just an amazing woman without any need for validation from us."

"Alright. Alright. I know when I'm beaten. Keep wearing that, it's a good look, and my son could use a chaperon." Raising her voice, Clarissa clapped her hands together. "Ladies, our guests will be arriving shortly. You know the plan."

"Done showing off?" Stanton asked Lorissa.

"Yeah. Your mom's a little terrifying when she—she did all that. Nya." Reaching her hand up, Lorissa gave Swiftpaw a good chin rub that had him melting against her hand. "If you stay there all night, you're going to have a lot of young women calling you cute."

Swiftpaw's terror was followed a moment later by him re-swording himself and diving into Lorissa's saya (scabbard) at her side.

"Figured you wouldn't want to deal with this. Besides, I can't defend Stanton's purity without the deadliest blade in the world by my side. Nya! Now we—"

"Announcing Lady Triana Eyesbright, second daughter and third in line of house Eyesbright!"

The shout drew eyes toward the door where a young woman stepped into the room. She was wearing a white ball gown but looked somewhat nervous about it. Her steps were slow and careful. The woman was aiming herself toward Stanton like an icebreaker, plowing through the groups of Sharptooth house ladies like an earth-shaping spell through soft mud.

Drawing herself up before Stanton, Triana dipped a slight curtsy. "Stanton Raveel-Sharptooth." As she lowered her eyes a little, she locked onto the odd outfit the woman beside Stanton was wearing—and the huge sword. It stung her curiosity not to be able to just ask who Lorissa was, but tradition dictated where and how she could address such things.

Third in line, Stanton knew, could become first in very short order among werewolves. Succession meant claws came out and duels were held—at least until the title had actually passed on. "Welcome, Triana. It's been some years since I saw you last."

"Indeed, Stanton." Familiar names were allowed at such an event, Triana knew—they were hunting down prey, after all. "Last time I saw you, you were far more interested in taking dresses off than putting them on."

"Such are the vestments of power that some are called to wear." Tilting his head to the side, Stanton said, "Lorissa, this is Triana. Or, if she's spending too much time in the mud, Dirty Paws. Triana, this is Lorissa—a friend."

"Chaperon," Lorissa said. "You've known him a while?"

"Since he still thought girls were horrible." A chaperon, Triana knew, wasn't competition. She could also tell that Lorissa and Stanton were friends, given their apparent closeness. Having a mistress as well as a wife wasn't uncommon, though from what Triana knew it helped if wife and mistress were friends. "What about you? A new friendship?"

"Savior, actually," Stanton said, trying to insert himself back in the conversation. "Remember the ball a few weeks ago that I attended in a full dress? On my way home, the train was stopped and I was kidnapped."

"Really?" Triana asked. "Because last I heard, and my information was updated not an hour ago, you were one of the more promising battle mages in Conjur. Was that wr—"

"Announcing Lady Elspeth Longhowl, heir apparent to the duchy Longhowl!"

That, Lorissa realized, was what halted her chances of slipping off with Stanton, getting married, and having it stick—a last name that sounded like something a canine would do/have. On the tail of that thought, though, was another: Did she really want to marry a man she'd just met?

Stanton didn't know Elspeth, but after Triana slipped away and left him open to be talked at, Elspeth seized the opportunity. She was an only child to a moderately wealthy duchy that was on the frontier. Her mother had gained the title through an act of bravery in some border skirmish or the other—Thus elevated above her more simple title, she'd found a more cultured husband and settled down to have a pup. Which is who stood before Stanton, the young woman seemingly capable of cyclic breathing to have gone so long without taking a breath.

"Announcing——"

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Lorissa had slipped aside after the fifth hopeful marched up to Stanton and declared her life story to him. So far, from what she could tell, after greeting Stanton they would then seek out his mother to introduce themselves.

"You look bored and we haven't even been here an hour."

Turning her head, Lorissa saw Triana standing there looking at her. "You could say I wasn't exactly born into this role."

"You're a were-creature. You can't be too far down the social ladder. Even if you're common-born, having a fur coat will always open you doors with lower nobles." Triana sighed. "I don't know why I accepted this. It's a meat market."

"And all here for Stanton to deci—"

"No. Not Stanton. Don't get me wrong here, Stanton getting along with the girl is important, but it's Lady Sharptooth-Raveel-Brightfang that will decide whom Stanton will be marrying." Sipping her wine, Triana tilted her head to look back at the matriarch of the room—they nodded to each other. "And that's why I'm here with you. You're here at her sufferance. That you were standing with Stanton means she considers your opinion interesting—or at least others' reactions to you."

There was way too much social combat going on in the room, Lorissa decided. "So I'm part of this whether I want it or not? I was just here to stop Stanton from doing something Cass and me'd regret."

"'Cass'? Who is this Cass?"

"A friend of Stanton's. She's a little more naive. She also doesn't know about this side of him."

Triana wrapped her head around the inference and tried to make sense of the answer. "She thinks he's only a he?" Lorissa's nod settled more facts into place. "And, I take it she likes him?" Another nod. "But, she wouldn't be interested in this aspect of him?"

"She's straight as a flagpole and thinks Stanton is too."

"And you're not?"

Bowing forward, Lorissa did her best to look formal. "I am most amenable to Stanton's situation and, if the opportunity presented itself again, I'd throw the fool over my shoulder and ride off to places unknown with him."

"And if whomever becomes his betrothed is amenable to him having a mistress?" Triana made her move to further secure her claim.

"I have two shoulders," Lorissa said.

It was absurd and Triana loved the image it conjured. She started to giggle when she noticed Stanton had Elspeth talking at him again. "Should we save him?"

"Ladies, please." Clarissa cleared her throat and tapped a wine glass delicately with a golden spoon. "I have given you all time to meet with my son and make an impression on him. I should have recommended bringing morning stars for that." She waited for the polite laughter to clear before continuing. "And, I have made one firm decision: you are all far too smart, well-bred, and gorgeous for me to possibly decide. Stanton, too, isn't qualified enough to decide. Therefore, I have decided a little contest is in order.

"The rules are thus. The contest will continue for a year and a day. At its conclusion, each competitor who wishes to continue may make their case as to why they are the superior partner for my son. Duels to the death will be unacceptable. Political, material, and physical battles will all be taken into account. If you wish to withdraw from the contest, please leave the ballroom now."

Stanton was caught off guard at least as much as everyone else. Courtship contests usually worked the other way around—many male suitors chasing a young lady's hand, pitted against each other. Walking over to where his mother stood, he did his best to make his way as self-assuredly as possible; and not like he was a piece of meat dangled before a bunch of werewolves.

Of the group of a dozen young ladies of the aristocracy, only two left. Clarissa smiled. "Now there will be another chance to back out, of course, but first do you have any questions?"

Elspeth, now that the boring part of the evening was over, was finally interested in the event. "How much contact with Stanton is allowed? If I kidnap him to my den and teach him to sit and roll over, would that be against the rules?"

"While not unheard-of in the past, I will ask that Stanton be able to attend his classes in Conjur." Clarissa had expected such a question and it was easy enough to make a ground rule for stopping such actions. Went unsaid, of course, was that there would be two holiday periods of four weeks and three months where he wouldn't be so required. "Any others?"

"Is teaming up allowed?" Triana asked, her eyes swiveling to look at Lorissa. She knew she could do much worse than having her prospective mate have himself a canny and powerful mistress. A mistress, after all, could not become a wife.

Smiling like she would at an enemy soldier across a battlefield, Clarissa nodded. "It is, though there can still only be one first-wife of a noble. I will leave the internal politics of such decisions to any packs that form."

Stanton looked among the young women still looking at him. He knew what they were dealing with. Some had likely already presented themselves and found no suitors, others might have been holding off for fear of landing in that group, but all of them looked hungry—a marriage to the Sharptooth house was a strong one, one that could set a woman up for a life with her own power. To say nothing of the strong offspring it would produce. "Is that all? No one asking what my favorite food is? How I like to be wooed?" He made sure to give his best clueless girl look to them, getting a few laughs.

"They have a year and a day to figure that out, Stanton. Any of you who still wish to compete, make your mark on this formal agreement." Gesturing to the side, Clarissa didn't even look at the magically enchanted paper. The rules were written on there, plainly, and the two clarifications too. It was some fine work by her husband.

One by one the women walked forward and signed the document. Whilst it was non-binding if they didn't eventually participate in the judging, it signified their adherence to the rules. The last in line was Elspeth. Stanton was surprised at the complete change in her bearing, but musing over his memory of their conversation he realized she'd covered nearly every philosophy and gauged his opinion—or lack of—on them.

He was sorely aware that his next year was going to be crazy. Sure these ten women were going to be fighting against each other, but they wouldn't ignore him and let him be. They would be following him, making sure he knew they were around, and otherwise getting in the way of him dealing with one annoying dragon.

"Mother?" Stanton asked.

"Hrmm?" Very pleased with the reaction she'd gotten from the delicate young flowers of werewolf aristocracy, Clarissa looked to her son. "Is something the matter?"

"You know I'm not going to make this easy for them." He could already see eight pairs of eyes, each turned wolf yellow in his imagination, all gazing at him like he was a cut of beef. The other two, by contrast, were discussing things together. He sighed as Triana came closer. "I'm going to challenge your every attempt now, mother."

"I'm glad you're learning, dear." Turning her attention to Triana, who had Lorissa walking at her side, Clarissa smiled sweetly. "You signed up despite your earlier protests? Your mother said you weren't exactly enthused to seek this union."

"Lady Sharptooth-Raveel-Brightfang, I am sure you know yourself that a noble must maintain certain hobbies, and the most supreme among those of eligible aristocratic women right now seems to be finding a mate. And, since enjoying the company of rugged young werewolf males has become in fashion lately among other rugged young werewolf males—a lady such as myself has found herself seeking greener pastures. You assured me that Stanton would still be perfectly capable of carrying out his husbandly duties, and that's honestly all a young noble lady can hope for these days." Triana tilted her eyes toward Stanton, raising one brow. "You can manage that, right?"

Floating down from the ceiling, Angel alighted on Stanton's shoulder. "He can, but only for really important stuff. And he has to turn back right away!"

"Why is that?" Clarissa asked.

"He loses all his fancy magic if he is a boy again. No magic at all!" As soon as she said it, Angel covered her snout with both paws.

"Oh, sure. Angel, next time you know the secret to completely disabling my magic, don't yell it in a room full of crafty nobles." Plucking Angel out of the air with his hands, Stanton hugged her against him. "It's okay, Angel, nothing to be done for it now. Besides, no one here is the dragon."

"Dragon?" Triana asked.

"Dragon?" Clarissa asked.

Waving a hand dismissively, Lorissa spun a lie. "That's what Stanton calls this one administrator at the academe. Nya. She was making us do all kinds of stupid work until he bluffed her. She folded like a pair of cheap trousers." Even her own mistruths made her itch now. She explored her feelings and, sure enough, the first words stuck out as a lie but the rest all squeaked by with a bad aftertaste. "So, nya, now that the main event is done, what now?"

"Now those that aren't serious about this slink off and make plans," Triana said, eyes flicking to the few women already leaving the room. "Those with half a brain wait to beg their leave of the lady of the house as well as their intended." With that, she lowered her eyes and offered the most perfect of courtly curtsies. "With your leave, my lady?"

Clarissa nodded. "Of course, Miss Eyesbright. Your house is greater for your place in it."

It was a good compliment to receive, and Triana put on her best smile as she rose, turned to Stanton, and reached out for his hand. Only catching it by dint of surprise, she raised it carefully and pressed her lips to his knuckles. Not letting go, she tilted her eyes up to catch his own and said, "Until I have the honor of your presence again, my peach."

Stanton was frozen—stunned by the move. His heart fluttered as Triana gave him one last look at her intense eyes before she walked for the door and out.

"Cat got your tongue? Nya." Lorissa asked while Stanton was still staring at the doorway.

"Huh? Ugh. This whole thing has me on edge. I can barely focus." Shaking his head, he looked back to see Lorissa smirking. "What?"

"You're forgetting the little knack I have?" Reaching out a fuzzy digit, Lorissa booped Stanton on the nose. "I smelled that lie before you even finished saying it."

"You can tell when someone is lying?" Clarissa's ears would have perked up if she'd heard that while in her wolf form. "I might have to avail myself of your services."

Stanton, starting to pull himself from the confusion of Triana's treatment of him, rolled his eyes. "Mother, it's not exactly a rare talent. We could find—"

"There is a difference between hiring a known professional and having a young lady at my side whom I have asked to join me in tea on a sunny day while I discuss things with someone I suspect of being untruthful."

"On one condition, your ladyship." Lorissa waited until she had the woman's full attention. "I already have a good mentor for sword training, but unarmed…"

"Easily arranged. I'll secure you a pass for the teleporter and arrange some training time among our own house. Stanton will be able to tell you in advance of any tasks I have." Nodding toward her son, Clarissa was quite pleased with how the night had gone. "Now I fear I must eject you all into the chill night—there is some trouble brewing to the north and the Emperor has requested my company to ensure the Is are all dotted and the Ts all crossed."

Departing the house, Stanton chewed his lower lip as he stepped outdoors. In a clear voice he said, "I believe it would be best if we take the teleporter back tonight. We both have classes in the morning after all."

Lorissa smelled the lie. Neither had classes in the morning and they both knew it. They'd specifically taken a day off to ensure it wouldn't interfere with class work. She could also actually smell the perfumes of several of the werewolves Stanton had recently become the target of. "Of course, nya, I'd hoped that would have ended earlier. As it is, we'll be getting a poor night's sleep if we hurry."

Relief flooded Stanton and, together, they started the slow walk across the capital. Along the streets lamps burned a soft silvery glow of magelight. In the crook of Stanton's arm Angel lay, softly snoring while Swiftpaw had remained as Lorissa's katana blade.

The moment they reached the inner area of the teleportation building, Lorissa sighed in relief. "I can't smell them anymore. They actually followed us all the way here."

"Mother has made this a contest in which there is only one winner—and neither of us can win." Stanton showed his pass to the late night conductor. "Both of us to Conjur, please?" He could see the woman's teeth clench a little. "Something the matter?"

"We have cargo to go there. I know your pass is for a—"

"Just make sure there's enough room on the pad for us to stand. If there are other things on there…" Stanton shrugged his shoulders and looked at Lorissa. "You don't mind if we double up a little?"

Snorting, Lorissa shrugged. "You're asking the woman who is used to riding everywhere by horse if she's going to be upset at using a teleporter, nya?" The little vocal tick was automatic and Lorissa welcomed the little jolts of energy she got from using it. She turned to the conductor. "Do you need help moving things?" The look of abject horror on the woman's face reminded Lorissa that being covered in fur implied standing in the capital. "Oh! I'm not— Nya!"

Putting his arm around Lorissa, Stanton drew her into a hug. "Relax. You're not a noble, no, but you are on business for house Sharptooth. You don't have to live up to being a lady of the house, but a little decorum is expected. The workers have this well in hand." As he spoke, Stanton set about palming a few coins. He added to the amount when he saw more workers come out with armfuls of crates.

When the platform was loaded and Lorissa was standing on it, Stanton approached the conductor. "Please, make sure you give everyone who helped my thanks for your perseverance." Taking her hand, Stanton mirrored Triana's earlier effect and kissed the back of her fingers before slipping the coins into her palm.

Walking back to the platform, Stanton grinned at Lorissa and winked where the conductor couldn't see. "Are you ready, Lore?"

"I am, nya."

The conductor waited for the nod from both ladies before she gave the okay to their wizard to activate the pad. When it was clear, she coughed into her hand. "Alright, you lot, get over here. The nice ladies left us a tip."

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