“Are you going to eat that?”

“Hm?” Ves glanced up at Marigold, then back at her breakfast. There were times the aureanians felt almost human, then there were times like this. She gently poked the rodent on her plate, the fork poking easily though the glazed hide. It looked delicious, that was true, but she’d discovered much to her consternation that the aureanians didn’t have a concept of knives. Or gutting and dressing. Interestingly, they did have scissors, but that was, as Orchid would say, neither here nor there.

“Is it too big?” Marigold tilted her head, scrutinizing her. “I heard humans tore their food into small pieces, like animals.”

“I…” Ves had long since grown past getting offended at Marigold’s more myopic comments. It was perhaps a sign of how often she made them that this had happened in more or less a day. “We usually have tools to do so.”

“Oh?” Marigold’s gaze drifted into the middle distance. “You didn’t need any tools to eat the Mangosteens…”

“I…” Ves sighed and speared the rodent, bringing it up to her mouth and simply ripping off a hunk, covering her lips in grease. She then noticed that the aureanians didn’t have napkins. Because of course they wouldn’t. Resigned, she continued to eat, careful not to bite into the inner organs. Nobody had ever actually mentioned to her why butchers always removed the organs, and she wasn’t particularly eager to find out.

Hopefully she didn’t die.

She distracted herself with the morning routine of Aureana. They were seated on a quiet little patio outside of the inn that had hosted her. It seemed that there were already allowances made for moon-touched to stay in the town during Homecoming, and it was a small thing to make an early exception for her. The beds had been hammocks woven of living vines that reminded her of being below-decks in her youth, and she found she slept surprisingly well in them.

She’d woken early, before sunrise, and had spent the first few hours watching the city wake up. It was an incredible transformation to be sure. At night, the streets were lined with foxfire, filling the city with a gentle glow that made it easy to navigate without competing with the starlight above. As the sun began to rise, the glow along the streets dimmed, giving way to the slowly opening flowers on the houses. It was like watching the city be painted in real time, the flowers opening in sequence as the sunlight fell across them. By the time Marigold had arrived for breakfast, the streets were alive with motion.

She finally finished what she was willing to eat of the rodent, setting it on her plate. At a quizzical look from Marigold, she rolled her eyes and pulled out the fork, leaving Marigold to scarf the thing whole. “Do you have anything I could wash up with?” Ves asked, keenly aware of the mess on her face.

“Oh?” Marigold asked, easily speaking around the bulge in her throat. “Oh, you did make quite a mess, didn’t you? That seems really inconvenient.”

Ves could only roll her eyes again. “I’ve noticed.”

“I’m sure we can find something! Just a moment!” Marigold slithered inside, returning with what was evidently a dishrag and plopping it on the table. “Will this work?”

At least it was clean. “Sure,” Ves said, wiping her face. At least she’d managed to keep her new dress clean. It really was a beautiful thing, elegant and flowing in a style she wasn’t familiar with, with a light blue that matched the highlights in her fur. It also hugged her waist in a way that decidedly was not ‘tent-like.’ Orchid had outdone herself. “Where’s Orchid today?”

“She told me she’d be preparing her wares,” Marigold said. “Likely hoping to make a sale to the refugees.”

Ves’ mind wandered back to the last she’d seen of the prince and his retinue. Huddled forms cowering in the rain. Even his precious honor guard had their robes frayed at the edges. Still, they had hung on to some of their jewlery, some more than others. Maybe Aria would trade one of her stupid hairpins for a dress without holes in it. “You know, I think that might just work.”

“Really?” Marigold bounces. “Oh, she’ll be overjoyed! Oh, Orchid! I have the best news!”

The aureanian in question slithered over in a manner more sluglike than serpentine. Slithering past them, she slid into the inn proper, grabbed the pot of coffee sitting by the front desk, downed it in one go, then slithered back to the table they were at and flopped onto it.

“Orchid, I have—” Marigold went silent as Orchid held up her tail.

She held it there for a moment.

She dropped her tail. “Proceed.”

“I was talking to Ves,” Marigold proceeded. “And she thinks the refugees might be willing to trade!”

“Thank the Queen,” Orchid flicked her tongue out limply, before giving an intimidatingly spacious yawn. “I did not spend all night just to barter for rags. Are you well today, Ves?”

“As well as can be expected,” Ves fought the urge to squirm. “To be honest, I haven’t thought of what I’m going to do when I see them. I can hardly walk up to them and—” She glanced down at herself and sighed. “It’s not the kind of thing you explain with a wave and a hello.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand!” Marigold beamed. “They’re your friends!”

Ves was keenly aware that likely only one person in the whole group would have fit that description, and she was the least likely to be understanding.

“I’m sure things will be fine, dearest,” Orchid said, tapping her on the head. “Whatever else happens, you’re here at Homecoming and they are the Queen’s guests. They dare not make trouble at the best of times, and these are hardly their best of times.”

Ves heaved a sigh. “Yes, you’re probably right.” She shook her head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts hovering over it. “Maybe I’ll know what to do when I see them.”

“It never hurts to wait for more information,” Marigold nodded resolutely.

“I second that,” Orchid said. “No sense worrying now. Tell me, did you have any plans this morning?”

Ves frowned. “Not really…”

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

Ves was beginning to suspect Orchid was dangerously sharp.

“Just a little to the left, dearest,” Orchid said, using her tail as a pointer.

Ves grumbled and picked up the rack of robes for the third time, scooting it back to the exact same place it had been three moves ago. “How’s that?”

“Hmmmmm,” Orchid bobbed her head around in a way that made Ves’ heart sink. “No, no, it was better where it was.”

“Ugh!” Ves rolled her eyes and all but heaved the rack back. “If you really want to catch their eyes you should just cover the robes in soap and food.”

“Oh! Hors d’oeuvres! And rose water for their fingers! Dear you are a genius!” Like a streak of light, she was off into the rest of the market stalls, no doubt to charm and or haggle the skin off whatever poor proprietor had what she needed.

Marigold promptly flopped down beside Ves, immediately rolling over and feigning death. “How does she have so much energy?”

“I don’t know,” Ves said, a mischievous thought popping into her head. “Maybe it’s biological?”

“Of course!” Marigold popped right back upright as if she’d been struck by lightning. “Melodials are primarily water dwellers, of course they’d have greater stamina than— What?”

Ves was actually grateful for the robe rack as it kept her from keeling over laughing. “Maybe it’s just,” she paused for breath. “Passion?”

“What would…?” the gears visibly spun in Marigold’s head for several seconds. “Ohhh, that does make more sense.” She promptly flopped back onto the ground. “Less interesting though.”

Ves made her way over and patted the aureanian on the head, taking a seat herself by the stall. They were hardly alone, the port having turned into an impromptu bazaar as the people of the City prepared for their new guests. Well, it wasn’t technically a proper bazaar, more of a welcome banquet, as the refugees weren’t expected to pay for anything. More a welcome balm for their ills and a celebration of their survival than any actual trade. Though Ves didn’t doubt for a moment that Orchid planned to leverage her little stall into proper trade down the line. The robes on display were finely made but plain, showcasing just enough skill to suggest that their creator was capable of far more for the right price.

Just as she was beginning to catch her breath, Orchid returned, a stack of plates balanced on her long coils. “Ves!” She promptly deposited the plates in front of her. “Word has just come back that the refugees have been spotted just downriver! They’ll be here in a matter of minutes.” She nudged the plates of fruit and rodents at her. “I understand you humans have some sort of food carving art. Quickly, we need to have this presentable!”

“I…” She glanced down at the plates, then up at Orchid. “With what?”

“Don’t you do it by hand?” She poked her tail at her claws.

“Ew!” Ves said. “The point of cutting up food is so that you don’t touch it with your fingers! And most humans don’t even have claws!”

“Well, that just seems terribly inconvenient.” She huffed, glaring at the food as if it had personally worked to thwart her efforts.

“Doesn’t it?” Marigold chimed in. “It really begs the question of why a species would even evolve lim—”

With a huff, Ves grabbed up the plates and arrayed them on clear spaces on the stall counter. “The food alone will be plenty nice, and I’m certain your designs will catch their eyes on their own,” Ves grumbled, leaving out the fact that she had no intention of trying to scrub meat and fruit juice out of her claws.

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“Yes, well,” Orchid couldn’t help but puff up under the praise. “I suppose you are right.”

Picking herself up, Ves moved to put herself behind the robes, using them as impromptu camouflage. She planned to retreat if the refugees started to make their way to Orchid’s stall, but Orchid had been kind enough to put her display towards the back, meaning Ves would have some time to just watch them as they filtered through the stalls. It also meant they could be higher up to better watch the waterway.

That was how she spotted them.

They weren’t traveling on a boat, but closer to a crude raft of ice. Ves’ heart sank as she saw the cluster of bodies huddled in the middle. When they’d been attacked in the forest, there had still been a reasonable contingent of academy guards, students, cooks and some other staff from the academy. Now, she counted less than a quarter of what there had been, and of that almost the entirety were mage-robed students. It made sense from a simple place of practicality, mages could fight without directly exposing themselves to harm, while the guards and soldiers would have to engage with the shades directly. It was common sense where the weight of the casualties would fall, but it still hurt. Being among the common students, she’d had a certain sympathy for those who’s contributions to the academy were more menial. It hurt to see they’d only gotten shorter shrift outside its walls.

Of course, all six of the ‘honor guard’ had made it.

“Something wrong?” Marigold asked.

“Just…” She sighed. “No, nothing I shouldn’t have expected.”

She scanned those remaining robes as best she could. Most were red robes, which eased her heart a little. Mara had been a phase mage, and even if they were the most common variety of mages, it still felt better to see so many red robes on the boat. There were a smattering of greens about, and even a few grays remained as well. All in all, there weren’t any great surprises to be found so far away. It was disappointingly close to what she would have expected.

As she watched, she noticed the raft moving along without rowers. A cluster of phase mages was grouped by the rear, and she noticed churning bubbles roiling up from behind the boat. She was reminded of a practice exercise Mara had grumbled about, the pop pop boat. Flash vaporizing water in a closed chamber, letting the water jet out and refill to drive the boat forward. She also remembered that the point of the exercise was to not generate bubbles during forward motion.

Either they were all inexperienced, all exhausted, or both.

“Ves,” Orchid said, breaking in on her reverie. “Who are those six around the prince?”

“Oh,” Ves said, her mood dropping. “The ‘honor guard.’”

“They’re the prince’s honor guard?” Orchid tilted her head. “They don’t seem to have any sort of uniform…”

“No, it’s…” Ves sighed. “It’s a term we used at the academy. They’re not actually any kind of formal position, they’re more a… clique.”

“A clique?” She stared at the group a moment longer. “Ah! You mean a harem!”

“That’s—” Ves coughed, choking on her own spit. After a second, she realized she didn’t actually have a counterpoint anyway. “Actually probably accurate.”

“Interesting,” there was something predatory in her tone. “Why are they all out of uniform? They are just other students like you… were, right?”

“Yes,” Ves muttered, again reminded of how far the term ‘like’ could stretch. “They aren’t in uniform because…” She sighed. “It was a stupid academy initiative or reward or something. The top students in any field were allowed to forgo dress code. Considering the vast majority of mages are female, it’s hard to decide just whose benefit that was for, but…” She rolled her eyes and waved at the group. “You can see the end result. They strut it around like a badge of pride.”

“Very interesting,” Orchid said, looking for all the world like she was tracking a mouse. “What can you tell me about them?”

“I…” Ves paused, studying her. “What are you up to?”

“I’m just noticing their evident fashion sense, dear,” Orchid said, her eyes not leaving the raft as it approached the pier. “Obviously that would be a point of concern to me.”

“Well,” Ves mulled it over a minute. She hadn’t thought of herself as much of a gossip, but then it wasn’t as if she owed them anything. “Alright.”

She took a deep breath.

“That first one stepping off the raft, the red one with the pigtails. That’s Aria, arguably the worst of the bunch. She doesn’t think she’s the leader of the group, she thinks she should be the leader of the group. Watch how she actually cuts in front of the prince to introduce herself to Queen Solestice. Unbelievable. Of course he takes it because he won’t deck her like she deserves (not that she shows him the same consideration), but that just makes her head even bigger. They say she’s smacked him a few times because other women talked to him. As in they initiated it.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. In the pause, she noticed Orchid muttering under her breath. “Something bright, reds and golds, she has a clear preference. Bloodweaver silk, have to think on the golds. Pitch it as an exclusive. Tell her I was simply inspired when I laid eyes on her, yes.”

Ves found herself suddenly enjoying the exercise a lot more.

“Next is Vesta, the one with the long brown hair that’s glued to the prince like…” She paused. “Marigold, what’s a particularly stubborn parasite?”

“Reticulated drill leach?” She offered.

“Thank you,” Ves said. “The one glued to the prince like a reticulated drill leach. She might look like a child, but don’t be fooled, she’s one of the best magnetomancers in the whole school. I can only guess someone put it in her head that guys don’t like strong girls, because she wanders around pulling this honestly creepy little sister act. I mean, just look at her, she’s practically hiding behind him! I’ve seen her put a dinner fork through three marble pillars in a row because someone swiped the last plate of flan.”

Orchid nodded along. “Have to check my books for child fashions. Frilly. Delicate. Tight across the bust? Yes. Could make fainting a selling point.”

“After that, you’ve got Karoline,” Ves said. “The one with the spiky hair, looks like she forgot she has a face. We all just call her Karl. She’s actually Vesta’s sister, so they do the whole quarreling opposites thing. Oh, oh, look at her face when Vesta hugs the prince! You can just barely make out a scowl. She plays the strong silent type to the hilt. Honestly, if she didn’t spend so much time around the prince, or obviously blush when she ‘thinks nobody’s looking’ you’d almost be fooled into thinking she’s normal or something.”

“Severe, whites and blacks.” Orchid was tapping her chin with her tail. “Kinpatrian military uniforms? They have skirts, I could adapt that, just a hint of the feminine under the serious. She’d eat that up.”

Ves nodded along. “Next is Octavia, wavy long gold hair. She’s… honestly kind of boring? She follows the prince around but of the bunch she’s just kind of… nice?” Ves shrugged. “Honestly she just wears plain comfy dresses most of the time. Might go with being a botanomancer as they actually have a field component to the cirriculum. I think she likes flowers?”

“Flowers,” Orchid said. “I can do flowers.”

“Right,” Ves fought down a shudder as she laid eyes on the next one. “Victoria. I don’t think I need to point her out, as there’s only one girl with her own personal halo floating around her stupid golden head. I swear, if I ever find out who told her that she ‘resembles the goddess…’” She snorted. “Remember I said that Aria feels like she should be the leader? Victoria is the leader. As much as the girls might snarl and pout at each other, when she speaks up, they pipe down.” Ves winced, and glanced down, extracting her claws from her palms before taking a deep breath. “She is gold-plated scum. Of everyone we escaped with, she’s the only one I would have sincerely stood and watched die if the shades had caught her. First lumomancer in a hundred years, or so she’d remind us every goddess damned day. She treats the prince like property, the other girls like they’re children playing make believe, the faculty like servants, and the students like animals.” Her hands were hurting again but she didn’t bother to unclench them. “You know she made Mara play fetch?”

Octavia hummed. “Maybe best not to approach that one.”

“No maybe about it,” She snorted, taking a moment to calm down. “Oh, the last one, that’s…” She wracked her brain for the name of the quiet, dark haired girl that trailed along behind the rest. “I don’t actually know, come to think of it. She’s actually always just kind of there. I… think she likes bugs?”

“Oh!” Marigold piped up. “She does?!”

“Don’t quote me on that!” Ves threw up her hands. “I think she likes bugs. Maybe. I’m not sure.” She frowned. “I’m really trying here, but I’m just…” She shrugged again. “I don’t know. I guess no one ever really talked about her.”

“Interesting,” Orchid said. “Well, in any event we can throw Marigold at her and see what shakes out.”

“Oh, I’d love to meet her!” Marigold said. “She sounds super nice!”

Ves stared at her. “All I said was she likes bugs.”

“I know!” Marigold said, her tail rattling about.

“You know,” Orchid said. “She’s going to turn out to be right.”

“Yeah,” Ves let off a heavy sigh. “I know.”

“And what of the prince?” Orchid asked.

“Oh! Prince Markus is a consummate gentleman,” Ves said, feeling that familiar warm glow of happiness. “He knows over a hundred different dances, three languages, and he mastered all three accredited schools of magic before taking on an honorary teaching position. He likes reading the classics, even back to the pre-unification, and loves touring the royal forest though he personally finds hunting itself barbaric.” Her heart gave an eager flutter. “And he looooves foxes.”

Marigold and Orchid simultaneously let out low whistles, and Ves felt herself flush. “What?!”

“Nothing,” they both replied at once.

“Hmph!” She turned back to the remainder of the refugees, though she found she couldn’t stop her tails from lashing behind her. So what if he was perfect? Wasn’t she allowed to notice that? Not like any of the other girls were any better. Pfah!

She distracted herself by trying to focus on the other refugees spilling off the raft. They seemed to be sleepwalking, stumbling awkwardly into the coils of awaiting aureanians. Despite the best efforts of their hosts, the sheer state of the refugees seemed to suck much of the joviality out of the proceedings. Even the evident relief on their faces was tainted by a sheer, crushing exhaustion.

A part of Ves knew it was getting close to time for her to leave, but she couldn’t pull herself away. Deep down, she had to know if Mara had made it. She waited there, perched behind the cloaks as more of the figures slowly wound their way closer, a distressing number hiding under their own hoods. She found herself wringing her tails together, torn between trying to find a better position and retreating like she ought to.

“Dear,” Orchid’s tail touched her shoulder. “We can keep an eye out in your stead. Given the state of things… I’m not sure your friend could deal with your presence even if she is here.”

Ves wanted to protest, but seeing those hunched over figures shuffling about, she couldn’t argue the point. “Alright.” She tried to give the best description she could, but ultimately she wasn’t sure how well the two aureanians would fare.

Turning away, she gave the crowd one last look, and slipped away back to the inn she’d come from, accepting she would have no answers today.