kalloway @kalloway@fedibird.com

Joscelin wasn't surprised when the social vultures descended. She'd been away for a year, after all, and this was the first party since her return.

Their questions started small even as their ranks swelled until nearly a dozen women Joscelin barely knew were asking her how she'd been.

"It was a lot," she said softly. "I'll leave it at that."

But they wanted more, and more, and finally Joscelin broke and gave them ever lurid detail despite two turning rather green and another rushing off for air.

But they'd asked!

And they never did again.

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Filip glanced around once and then back to the trio standing at the main desk.

"Am I on a hidden camera show?" he asked. There was probably even a yellowed comic cut from the local paper and taped on the wall beside him that made this exact joke.

"No, we really do want to join."

"Look, we have an advert."

"The monthly price is really good."

Filip, unfortunately, couldn't think of a reason to refuse them, especially if they did want to exercise.

He couldn't help grinning as he pulled out three contracts.

And the demons joined his gym.

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"Are you the Dragon of Creation?" Arabelle asked as she approached the mighty beast in the depths of the cave she'd finally found.

"Leave," the dragon replied in a low rumble.

"Please," Arabelle pleaded. "I don't know what to do. I bought new paints, new sketchbooks, new fancy stickers..."

The dragon rumbled again and nodded ever so slightly at its own large hoard of new paints, sketchbooks, and fancy stickers, unused.

"Oh," Arabelle said after a long moment. "Hmm. Well, maybe...

"Maybe grab your stickers and we'll try leaving together."

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"Practice," Alain told himself. "Practice, practice."

In the morning, he'd be facing the city-god for the first time since receiving his cloak and ribbons.

He'd read the lines a thousand times, repeated them under his breath a thousand more. He now declared them to his chambers, to the carved figures on his mantel, to the tiny and badly-painted figurine of the city-god that he'd carried since childhood.

He barely slept, nervous, anticipating.

The city-god just smiled at him, silent for longer than Alain could bear...

"I ALREADY KNOW."

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It was Velinda's first day serving in the castle. She'd always wanted to be a maid to the queen, but she was starting with clearing away dishes after breakfast.

"There's a chip in the prince's cup." The Head Breakfast Maid's tone was even, but Velinda tried not to panic.

She nodded, but as soon as her work day was over, Velinda raced through the entire market and managed a miracle.

The next morning, she switched in the new cup, a perfect match.

"What's this?" the prince questioned quickly. "Where's my cup? My cup has a chip in it."

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"I have a cousin, a smithy, he could use an apprentice," the guard said quietly. She named a town that Kynan, former prince, knew to be small and quiet and just beyond the border.

Kynan nodded from the other side of the bars. He could survive being exiled as long as he found a new identity, surely.

He knew weapons well enough; he could learn a trade even at his age.

The guard said nothing. Instead she continued on her rounds as if she'd not even paused.

But Kynan, former prince, had a bit of hope, which was probably more than he deserved.

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