Tulian Republic

  Capital

  Six Weeks Until Spring

  Time ticked by. Constantly. Endlessly, it ticked and tocked in Sara's mind, always present. Sometimes it was the sound of her old world's mechanical watches that taunted her, the gentle click of metal meeting metal, and at other times she heard the rustling of sand sifting through an hourgss, a snake's hiss as the minutes slipped through her fingers. No matter what form it took, what it heralded was unchanged.

  The invasion was coming. The Sporaton frost had begun to break, freeing the southernmost troops to begin marshaling, and with each passing day the spring weather marched further north. Once it reached the capital, where so many peasants y sheltered in their straw huts beneath the monoliths of royalty, the army would take shape. Slowly at first, a lumbering beast poked and prodded to life, but with ever increasing speed, it would form. Young men and women would be selected by a shadowed figure in the hilly manor, deemed inessential to the vilge, a condition that meant their lives were free to be spent at the whims of others. When the noble lords that held their chain had their fill of marching them about in circles, drilling circles into the earth and their souls, they would be dragged to assault the southern reaches.

  Tick, tick, tick, went the clock in Sara's mind. Six weeks. Two months, if they were slow to marshal. In her wildest dreams, she dreamt of ten weeks, some unseasonal gale blowing through to grant her reprieve. A vain hope, and nothing worth pnning on. As Evie had taught her, Sara assumed her enemies would be fwless in their efforts, driving their troops to her doorstop the very moment the elements allowed it. So, six weeks. Forty-two days until the fate of nearly a hundred thousand people would be put into Sara's hands, the weight hers alone to bear. She had been preparing, yes, and was still preparing, but with every action taken, she saw only what more she should do. An endless list sprawled through her mind and onto her now-hectic notes, even Evie's skill insufficient to tame the mess that had overtaken her desk, and yet still the barest effort could summon up a half-dozen additions, all worth considering. Sara was lost in a maze of her own creation, cwing for anything that might preserve the progress she had made.

  Which was why she, upon first opening her eyes to the morning rains pattering against their window, she smiled at Evie.

  "We're going to go shopping today."

  Feline eyes fluttered open, the usual disorientation of waking rapidly sharpening into consternation.

  "We are going to what, Master?"

  "Go shopping. It's been forever since we did anything like that. That's bad girlfriend behavior on my end."

  Blearily, Evie fumbled for the nightstand. She seized the small notebook there, searching for the page containing the day's itinerary.

  "Master, not only should you not feel compelled to do such, but we do not... have... the time?"

  Sara smiled as Evie doublechecked the date on the page, finding the entire front half of the day empty.

  "I fiddled around with your schedule. Sorry. Hope I didn't screw anything up too bad, but if I did, I'll take the bme. Either way, it's worth it to spend a little bit of time off."

  Evie closed the book, fixing Sara with a censorious gre.

  "Master. Of all the people on this pnet, I am alone in being able to tell when you are lying." Evie thumped her colr with a finger. "I can physically feel how anxious you are to keep working. What is the purpose of spending precious hours strolling through this city's anemic shopping district?"

  "Hey, it's not that bad. You and Vesta have done wonders bringing the city back up to speed. There's, what, twenty-five thousand people now? And sure, we're worried about feeding them, since that leaves us with only sixty thousand working the fields, but fishing's covering the difference for now, and Ketch's dad had a swim around and says we're not even close to overfishing the shores."

  "See, Master? You began trying to reassure me, but immediately distracted yourself with concerns over our food stocks. Would you even be capable of spending hours shopping?"

  "Bitch I might be," Sara mumbled, even though she knew the reference would be lost on Evie. More seriously, she said, "Even if I was, I know you'd hate it, which defeats the purpose. I'm not going impress Sporatos's former wealthiest noble with my pocket change, anyway. I've got a good idea for how we'll spend the day, trust me."

  "If you insist." Evie sat up in bed, the covers falling off her bare chest. To Sara's surprise, the remnants of the previous night still y across the soft expanse of her skin, discolored from hours spent cooling. Strings of cum, mixed with saliva, accompanied by a generous helping of Hurlish's slick that had dripped down from Evie's chin to join the Pollock painting sprayed across her tits. The sight of it, so casually worn, sent a spark through Sara's belly.

  The colr, of course, transmitted that to Evie, who smirked. "Should I dress before our outing today, Master, or would it be a waste of time? I have many outfits, but this one is still my favorite." To prove the point, Evie licked her finger and ran it along her breasts, collecting the concoction to bring it to her mouth. She licked the cum-coated finger, then shoved it further into her mouth, sucking to savor the fvor. Sara was helpless to do anything other than watch, resting her head on an elbow.

  "Mm. Still sweet. Really, Master, you should show Amarat more deference. Cum that tastes as good as yours is a gift worth eternal loyalty."

  "In my defense, I haven't really had a proper opportunity to taste it."

  Evie smiled, turning to face the bed square-on, breasts lit by the faint pink light of the crystal atop the bedside table.

  "You don't yet appreciate the fvor of your own cum. I need to get cleaned up. There's an interesting overp in our problems, isn't there?"

  With Evie looking down at her like that, Sara had no option left to her other than to obediently crawl forward, tongue falling out as she approached Evie's chest. Evie sighed as Sara's lips pressed against her chest.

  It really is sweet...

  They ended up being an hour te over their usual routine, the time eaten away by Sara cleaning Evie, then Evie cleaning herself after Sara's cleaning. Sara waited patiently. Their rooms at the Peasant's Theatre were austere, but wealthy enough to contain crystal-heated cauldrons of water, which Evie was using in the other room. The quarters were just enough for three women to occupy, and it didn't take long for Sara to tidy up the room before the maid came. It was one thing to accept that her usual messiness would be seen by hired help, but another entirely for the poor woman to be subjected to her, Evie, and Hurlish's nighttime activities. Sara and the maid had come to a silent agreement early on: Sara would wrap the sheets and bedding in a porous bag, and the maid wouldn't dare open it until the entire thing had been thoroughly soaked and shaken in a rainwater barrel. That seemed to work well enough, judging by the fact the woman hadn't quit after the first morning shift.

  Sara waited in the "living room" for Evie. It barely deserved the title. The furniture was just a pair of small couches before a fire, the walls stuffed with bookshelves whose contents Evie curated, plus a trophy space cleared for Hurlish's ever-rotating weapons collection. Two longbows and a halberd, today, Sara noted, had been hung above the firepce before Hurlish left for the forge. The firepce was hardly ever used, and it would be better to call the entire room a reading room, because the other accurate title for its use wasn't appropriate for polite company. While Sara waited for Evie she inspected Hurlish's weapons, trying to discern what the smith had decided made them exceptional enough for dispy.

  Sara hadn't reached her conclusion before Evie came out of their rooms, dashing other thoughts. Sara had thought Evie fairly reluctant to spend time on themselves, and still somewhat did, but the outfit she wore put a dent in the estimation. She exited the room wearing a noblewoman's dress, one that Sara had never seen on her before, which was rather impressive considering that they shared a closet. It was multicolored, a deep swathe of royal blue sweeping from her feet to her chest, complimented on either shoulder by gold trim that marked the transition to scarlet sleeves. As always with Evie, the dress was lowcut, showing off what might have been cleavage on a bustier woman, the empty space serving instead to draw the eye towards her colr. The mark of her svery had been polished to a lustrous sheen, even more so than its usual magical glow afforded it.

  "How?" Sara asked simply.

  "Easily. You don't touch my clothes. I put it behind the other dresses weeks ago."

  "Damn. Am I really that blind?"

  Evie patted Sara fondly on the cheek. "Sometimes, Master. Is it a good piece?"

  "Of course. You're wearing it."

  Evie rolled her eyes. "I would mock you for such drivel if I couldn't feel that you meant it, Master. But truly?" Evie stepped up to the door, lifting her arms as she gave a stately twirl to show the dress off. "It was among Nora's loot being offloaded during our st meeting, and I surreptitiously saved it from being marked for sale. Vesta recommended a tailor in the city, and Oddry dropped it off with my measurements, but this is my first chance to wear it after the adjustments."

  Sara gave it a closer appraisal, looking for any obvious fws. Of course, she didn't find any. Amarat may have gifted her with the words required to glide through high society, but that hadn't come with a secondary fashion sense. She had Evie for that. Sara was as clueless about clothes as she had been back on Earth. But she also knew Evie wanted genuine input.

  "It looks perfect to me, honestly. Sexy but refined, and still emphasizing your servitude to me, which I know you like, even if I think it's kinda weird. A perfect grade overall, but at the end of the day I'm not a good source. If we have time today we might drop by that tailor, or by Vesta's. She'd know better than me."

  "I suppose that's a good enough answer," Evie hummed, her humble agreement undercut by her tail swishing in satisfaction. She opened the door, and Sara followed her out into the hallway.

  As she passed out of the room, the two guards posted there stiffened. Sara had repeatedly tried to soothe their rigid reactions to her presence, but hadn't seen success yet. She suspected Evie was working to the opposite effect when Sara wasn't paying attention, admonishing the troops entrusted with Sara's safety to never drop their guard. On this particur day, Sara only gave them a grateful nod as she passed, following Evie down the halls of the Peasant's Theatre.

  Even at the fairly early hour, the Peasant's Theatre had begun to bustle. The nexus of Sara's fledgling bureaucracy was held together by spit and twine, but it was Vesta-and-Evie-grade twine, and that meant something. Sara passed offices of various ministers, administrators, and clerks, many of which were already occupied. In their haste to get things organized, no rger building had been constructed, and that left the wood-paneled corridors they'd thrown up within the former theater very, very cramped. After they turned to one side to allow a maid to pass them, Evie gnced at the woman's backside with a raised eyebrow.

  "Was that the one, Master?"

  Sara chuckled. "No. And it wasn't our maid, either. Seriously, why are you so convinced it was a maid?"

  "It felt like a maid's pussy."

  "What in the hell does that mean?"

  "Inexperienced but eager, pliable from countless idle hours spent fantasizing, and utterly delighted to see its daydreams finally fulfilled."

  "Are you psychoanalyzing a woman via out-of-body fucking?"

  "Merely stating my conclusions, Master. Perhaps I picked it up from tasting Vesta so often. She has more experience with maids than the rest of us combined, and her expertise could have rubbed off on my tongue."

  Sara massaged her temples. "I know I told you about learning by osmosis, and I'll admit I don't really understand it myself, but I'm almost positive that's not how it works. And you're still sure you don't want me to just tell you who it was?"

  Evie turned her nose up. "No. After feeling them like that, I will know them when I see them."

  Sara resisted the urge to count off Evie's incorrect guesses, which thus far included every single maid they had passed over the st week. It would just make her more determined to figure it out herself.

  "Nothing bad came of it, really," Sara said instead. "Not like anyone in that vilge will recognize you, even if they see you again."

  Silently, Evie turned to Sara, the prominent set of cat's ears twitching atop her head.

  "Well," Sara hedged, "You probably won't see them again, at least."

  Evie put her back to Sara, increasing her pace through the Peasant's Theater's byrinthian hallways. Sara rubbed her neck and followed after, gd that her girlfriend had a serious– if somewhat repressed– humiliation fetish.

  They exited the Peasant's Theater in short order, taking to the rainy streets beneath a parasol held by Sara. They didn't hold hands in the street, both because the height gap made it awkward, and because Evie preferred not to have anything encumbering her should they come under attack. It was that same paranoia that meant their stroll, which Sara intended to be rexing, didn't quite hit its mark. Evie chatted easily enough, but kept her eyes on their surroundings, steering Sara away from denser crowds. As a result, Sara decided to give up on the idea of a meandering path, heading directly towards her goal with Evie by her side.

  That st tidbit, Sara noted, was new. Ever since she had returned from her expedition, Evie had started walking directly beside Sara, rather than a few paces behind her. A subtle change, inconsequential to most people, but notable to Sara, particurly with the way Evie had begun to take a more vocal role in the meetings she attended. They'd gone over the entire expedition extensively, enough that Sara knew its every detail by heart, but nothing in the events could expin Evie's new behavior. Sara didn't think the feline had even noticed it herself. Whatever had occurred, however, Sara was grateful for it, and she resolved herself not to bring the change to Evie's attention, lest her girlfriend backslide into deeper subservience.

  When they reached their destination, Evie squinted up in confusion.

  "The Weaving Guild, Master? Have I ruined your pns to purchase us a new set of dresses by bringing my own?"

  Sara ughed. "No, no. I know better than to try and buy you fancy clothes. I'd bankrupt the treasury before living up to your standards. Here, hold this for a second."

  Sara handed Evie the parasol, heading up to the building's side entrance. The Weaver's Guild was situated in a well-built building, but cked decoration beyond being a solid sb of stone and mortar. The primary business entrance would already be swamped, Sara knew, and Evie would have a fit trying to track every hand that could hold a weapon in the room, so she decided to leverage her privilege by pounding a fist on the building's side door.

  Evie stepped up beside her a moment ter, raising her arm to shelter Sara under the parasol. After a brief wait, the door was opened by a rather grouchy looking woman, clearly irritated to have someone trying to use an employee-only entrance. That irritation was wiped off her face the moment she recognized Sara, however, repced by shock, then contrition, and finally a bit of greed, as if she were salivating over what she imagined Sara would be willing to spend.

  "Hello, Governess! To what do I owe the honor?"

  "I have business inside, but in the interest of personal safety, wished to take a less traveled entrance. I hope I'm not intruding by coming this way?"

  "No, no, not at all! Come in, come in!"

  Sara and Evie were eagerly waved in, taking a moment to shake off their parasol and let their eyes adjust.

  "Do you need any help finding your way?" The woman asked.

  "No, thank you, I know where I'm going. I appreciate the offer, of course."

  "Certainly, ma'am," the woman replied. Then she hesitated, lingering while Evie and Sara wiped their boots and tucked the parasol away. She was clearly a tailor or seamstress of some sort, and after only the briefest pause, began politely probing for reasons why Sara was there. She trying to find an angle to sell her something, clearly. Sara deflected the comments with barely a thought, steering the conversation away from a sales pitch. That was incredibly easy to do, once Sara discovered the woman had two children. Parents loved to talk about their kids.

  Sara marched her way towards her destination while chatting amicably with the woman, figuring she at least owed the seamstress a bit of conversation with someone "famous" for letting them into the building. It was still odd to think of mere conversation with herself being a reward, but the realities of her reputation were hard to deny. Once Sara found the right room, however, she pivoted the discussion back to work, which sent the woman scurrying back to her station as she realized she was being missed.

  Evie eyed the door that they'd found themselves in front of. It was unremarkable, other than being sturdier than the rest, and had no beling.

  "And what exactly are we going to 'shop' for here, Master?"

  Sara grinned. "You'll see." Sara knocked on the door, calling out. "Tam? You in there?"

  "Governess?" A muffled voice called back. "You are here already? I was told I had hours yet!"

  "The streets were busy, so I decided to head on over. I hope it's not too much of a bother?"

  "No, no!" The muffled voice replied, accompanied by the gentler sounds of cnking metal and goods being tossed frantically about. "I just... need to... get out the things we discussed..."

  Sara looked up and down the hallway, where others were beginning to take note of her. Not with the frothing excitement that greeted her at Amarat's church, thank the gods, but they were clearly fascinated by her. Some were even working up the courage to approach her. Perhaps Evie was right, and Sara should cultivate a more standoffish reputation.

  "Mind if we come in, Tam? Don't worry about a mess, I've lived in worse."

  Sara didn't give the seamster a chance to reply, cranking the handle open and stepping in.

  "I just need a few more– oh. Hello."

  Sara ignored the man's crestfallen greeting as she took in the room, shutting the door behind Evie. As one of the Weaving Guild's more experienced members, he had been afforded his own workspace, and that was a comfort he'd clearly needed. All across the room, from hangers on the ceiling, pegs on the wall, and piled in bundles on the floor, were various types of textiles. Broad, undyed sheets were mixed interchangeably with nearly finished articles of clothing, all showing signs of both master craftsmanship and complete disregard for organization. Sara stepped nimbly over several such piles, approaching the work desk that the squirrelly man was stooped over. He didn't see her approach, too busy digging furiously in his desk's drawers.

  "Broad? Broad, where did you put the demonstration vials?"

  Evie's eyebrows rose, assuming the seamster was referring to some woman on his payroll in such a way. Sara shook her head subtly.

  "Nah, not like that. That's his name."

  As if summoned by her comment, Broad entered the room, scratching at the dark lines beneath his eyes. Doing so transferred the purple ink that smeared his fingers to his face, but it was clearly not the first time he had done such. The boy was perhaps seventeen, one of the former apprentice artificers from the Carrion Navy, but well fit his name despite his youth. His shoulders were wide and square, as was his jaw, the only subtle things on him being the fingers he used for his delicate work. Sara knew that Carrion children were given their names at birth just like everywhere else, and thought it funny he'd ended up called Broad. She wondered if he'd come out of his mother just as wide, hence the name, or if it was just a quirk of fate.

  "Damned know if you put it where it goes," Broad snapped, accent thickened by exhaustion. At the sight of Sara, his eyes widened, realizing he'd just used profanity in front of a so-called Lady.

  "Begging your pardon, Governess," he said, hurriedly bowing from the waist. The Carrion Navy may have been the most egalitarian society Sara had personally encountered in this world, but that was far from a glowing endorsement, and it absolutely didn't mean people there casually swore in front of their nation's leaders. "I had not realized you arrived. I know now why Tam was shouting about needing to get things."

  With that stilted attempt at formality parsed through his passable knowledge of a foreign nguage, Broad started to help Tam look through the drawers. Evie watched the awkward bumbling of the men with no small amount of amusement.

  "It seems you came here with a specific purpose, Master," she noted. "And they were aware of your pn to come today. An artificer, as well? Curious."

  "Yup," Broad agreed, somehow not catching that the comment wasn't meant for him. "I am an artificer. And good at it. You'll see in a minute."

  "Yes!" Tam agreed forcefully. "Just a minute, not a moment longer, and you'll be seeing it. If I can just get this damn drawer out of its slot..." Tam bent down and jerked at something, rattling the whole desk. Sara heard the sound of a wooden drawer, badly in need of polishing, screech open. Tam exulted. "Aha! Here they are!"

  Tam swept an arm across his desk without looking, sending every item on it to the floor. Among the discarded piles of cloth, Sara noted, were a number of long sewing needles, and she wondered how often the man was visiting the healers after inadvertently stabbing himself.

  The desk now cleared, Tam hurriedly began setting a series of corked bottles out, each filled with various viscous fluids. Sara recognized at a gnce mud, ink, dye, grease, and cooking oil, along with several more dubious jars. Broad reached over the seamster's bent back as each item was pced and moved them into a neat row, as if proper presentation could offset the room's disarray.

  Evie watched the haphazard preparations with obvious doubt. Broad wilted under the feline's imperial scrutiny, but doggedly kept organizing the vials, offering her a tired smile.

  "It is just that you were so early, ma'am. We were preparing, but not prepared."

  "I understand," Evie said. "Though I am rather curious as to what you are preparing."

  "It is–"

  "A surprise," Sara cut in. "Remember? A surprise. So hold onto your expnations until the big reveal."

  Broad nodded. Evie pursed her lips. "I think that any surprise which involves a sealed bottle of blood is cause for concern, Master."

  Sara looked at the bottle Evie was referring to. It was indeed a sludgy red-brown liquid, but she'd assumed it was something else. Surely.

  "It is pig blood," Broad happily decred, as if it helped. "Nothing so stupid as human blood, no need for worry. I am a skilled artificer, but not skilled enough to be dealing with human blood."

  Evie's eyes widened slightly. Sara pinched the bridge of her nose.

  "Just... trust me, please?" Sara pleaded. "They're not the best showmen, but it's nothing bad, I promise."

  "If you insist, Master."

  Tam finished throwing things about under his desk, popping up with hair a mess. In his hands was a hogshide leather pouch, unadorned, with only one remarkable element: a zipper. The metal for the zipper had been difficult to create, but after seeing Evie's pin interest in the concept she described– how much easier certain outfits would be to wear if zipped up the back– Sara and Hurlish had put in the work. This bag was one of their proof-of-concepts. Tam looked at Sara questioningly. She nodded him on, so he held out the bag to Evie.

  "With my compliments, madam," he intoned, voice dropping to a formality at odds with his disheveled appearance.

  Evie took the pouch with both hands, holding it up to inspect. It was six inches by six inches wide, and the leather was crudely made. Her eye, of course, caught on the zipper, and she took the end and began to pull.

  Sara leaned in to watch with considerable excitement as Evie pinched the material within, drawing it out into the light.

  "A... handkerchief?" Evie asked aloud, inspecting the thing. Her reaction wasn't disappointment, but neither was it excitement. Confusion seemed dominant.

  Tam and Broad both opened their mouths to reply, but Tam quickly thought better of it, swatting his younger companion on the thigh. Before saying anything further, they looked to Sara, who once more nodded them on. They were the salesmen here, and their pin enthusiasm for the project was better than the smug pride Sara would have presented it with.

  "A handkerchief indeed, ma'am," Tam said, holding out his hand. Evie pced the handkerchief in it, and he spread it out on the table where a sunbeam fell through the window. "But not just any handkerchief. Its lustrous sheen is owed to the silk of Talimar Worms, frightening creatures which grow to the size of my forearm deep within the jungle wall. The creatures have yet resisted any form of domestication, and so their product is singurly rare, such that this is my first time handling so much Talimar Silk at once. The design woven through the material, the general ethos of which was provided by the governess, was refined and created over a period of six weeks. As the entire handkerchief is of the same base material, with no coloration to distinguish the path of threads, the pattern is only visible when viewed from certain angles."

  Tam put the handkerchief back on his palms and tilted it, so the sunbeam struck it in just the right way. Suddenly visible, as if physically jumping out of the silk, was an incredibly beautiful tapestry, woven in miniature. Across the entire central space of the handkerchief rose a rapier, specifically Evie's own enchanted rapier, and, crossing behind it at gentle angles were two other weapons. A greatsword on the left, the disc at the center of its bde marking it as Sara's unique weapon, and a massive sb of a hammer on the right, Hurlish's weapon stylized in size so that it would not dominate the imagery. Tam tilted the handkerchief away, and the image disappeared.

  "Other designs may reveal themselves in time, depending on the angle of your viewing, particurly when attention is paid to the fringes. I will leave those to your own private discovery in the coming months, as there are too many to list today."

  Evie remained silent, but her eyes had sharpened, feline pupils narrowed to slits as she focused on the handkerchief.

  "Could you summon your sword, Evie?" Sara asked. Evie raised an eyebrow at the request, but did so, stretching a hand out to bring the weapon into existence over the desk. Back on Earth, Sara had somehow gotten it into her head that rapiers were light weapons, small sidearms, but that wasn't the case. The sword Hurlish had made for Evie was just as long as a longsword, three and a half feet, more than half the feline's height.

  "A handkerchief for my sword, is it?" Evie asked, half-joking.

  "More or less," Sara admitted. "I've seen the way you treat that thing. After every battle, every fight, the very first thing you do is wipe it off. It doesn't matter if you're injured, or if there's more enemies nearby, you're always keeping it perfectly clean. I've seen you use an enemy's shirt to clean it, an enemy's hair, your own clothing, the grass, whatever's near. So I figured... why not make sure you've always got something on hand?"

  Evie's eyes widened slightly. "You wish me to use a work of art to wipe blood off my sword, Master?"

  "Yep," Sara said, ignoring the puffing up of Tam's chest at his work being referred to as art. "There's more to it than that, though. Broad?"

  Broad unstopped the first bottle, filled with mud, and promptly upended it onto the priceless silk. Evie's hand twitched forward, reflexively going to stop him, but she held back. Rather than oozing onto the silk as it should have, the mud spshed, rolling to the sides like water droplets off a leaf. Evie watched with growing intensity as Broad moved to the next vial, a jar of writing ink, and simirly upended it. He moved to the next bottles before the ink finished rolling off, adding dye, grease, oil, pig's blood, saltwater, and other liquids in quick succession. The materials intermixed with each other atop the silk, slipping and sliding in uniquely peculiar ways. Broad suddenly snagged the handkerchief's edge and yanked it up, spilling the awful concoction onto Tam's work desk. The silk fluttered free, untainted, exactly as brilliant as it had started.

  "Your wife spoke to us of certain materials in her old home, those she called, ah, 'hydro-phobic', I believe," Broad said. "Afraid of water, she says it meant. After some conversation, and considerable tinkering, it seemed possible to replicate this property with enchantments. Most of what artificers are trained in is the binding of material, of bringing things closer together, stronger. To repel is a strange question, but not so unreasonable, and I developed this."

  "You created this property? Alone?" Evie eyed the handkerchief carefully, as if disbelieving that it hadn't been ruined.

  Broad's smile took on an aspect of his name. "In the Carrion colonies, I was an apprentice, if advanced for my age. If my old masters saw this project, I believe I would have been graduated! A wonderful thing the Governess has driven me to create! Perhaps the most wondrous element is the fact that though it repels nearly all, it can still be grabbed." He waved the handkerchief about happily. "Imagine a gift that always slipped out of your grasp? Worthless! The finest of enchantments on it is that it recognizes Intent, and so weakens the repellent effect upon the pces one seizes with Purpose. I took two weeks for the hydro-phobicness, but a month of sleepless nights to recognize Intent!"

  "What powers it?" Evie asked. "There are no gemstones, clearly. Is this Talimar Silk inherently capable of holding artifical energies, like bcksteel?" The technical question surprised both Sara and Broad.

  "Er, no," Broad admitted, slight chagrin dampening his smile. "It is a weak enchantment, speaking truthfully. Left isoted, it would run out within days, the silk returned to its more base form until rejuvenated. I had not the skill to create powdered gems capable of holding energies to suffuse the silk, as might be more ideal."

  Abruptly, Sara's mind jumped back to Diplomat Otilia's robes, which had used powdered gems in its dyes. Had the clothing been enchanted? Almost certainly, Sara decided, but with what? Had the woman been more of a threat than she'd realized? Questions for ter.

  Sara wrenched her mind back on topic as Broad continued showing off the handkerchief.

  "Then how do I go about 'rejuvenating' it, then?" Evie asked.

  "I will show you. Would you allow me to handle your weapon, madam?"

  Sara caught only the slightest hesitation at the idea of someone else handling her sword, brief enough that Broad likely hadn't seen anything. At the artificer's direction, she set it on the table, directly in the pile of still-festering concoction left by the earlier demonstrations.

  "I did not overly worry myself about the enchantment's rejuvenations, you see, because the handkerchief is not to stand on its own." Broad wrapped the silk square around the rapier's handle, muttering to himself as he did so, pinching and pcing the handkerchief so that it bunched up in a very particur way. When that was finished, he straightened. "If you would grab hold of your weapon, then dismiss it, you will see."

  Evie picked up the rapier by the silk-covered handle, the weapon now covered in filth, and dismissed it. The handkerchief, rather than falling to the ground, disappeared with it.

  Broad cpped. "Excellent! I was worried that, without the genuine article, it would require considerable tuning of the summoning enchantment. Not so, thankfully. You are clearly well in touch with your weapon, to so easily bind the two."

  "I didn't do anything different."

  "A testament to your skill, whether you know it or not. Now, if you please, summon the rapier in your weapon hand, but with the handkerchief in your right."

  Almost instantly, two fshes brightened Evie's hands. The rapier's bde was still adorned by clinging filth, while the handkerchief was pinched in her left hand.

  "Astounding! You bind and divide the enchantments without effort. If I ever begin to work upon other summoning enchantments, I will be sorely missing a test subject such as you."

  "If the work is relevant to the army, I might find the time to aid you," Evie said absentmindedly, inspecting the handkerchief once more. She put the silk against the bde, preparing to wipe it down, then gnced at Broad. "I assume you reinforced the silk?"

  "Of course."

  Evie wrapped her hand around the base of the bde, protected by the handkerchief. With one quick motion she ran it down the weapon, flinging every st piece of filth off onto the floor. In an instant, the bde was as clean as the day it had emerged from Hurlish's forge.

  Evie inspected her sword, confirming that nothing had been left behind on the weapon or silk. Sara watched her do so with a smile on her face. The feline was all business in her demeanor, clinically inspecting the bde, but her ears were twitching something fierce, and the tip of her tail was spinning little circles behind her.

  "Do you know why I am so dedicated to cleaning my weapon, Master?" Evie's question was spoken quietly, intensely.

  "I've got a few ideas, but nothing firm," Sara shrugged. "I just wanted to make it easier on you. Why?"

  "Master Graf. He has spent decades mired in war, and in those years, he noticed many trends among those whose souls were tainted by violence. Once, when the Night's Eye had just returned from a particurly grueling contract, I had asked him why they had arrived with armor and weapons polished sparklingly clean. He answered offhandedly, as if it were obvious. Those who take pride in a bloodied weapon are not warriors. They are murderers."

  Sara watched Evie's eyes grow distant as she spoke, lost in recollection. Broad and Tam were silent, unprepared for the solemness of the statement. Sara let the moment linger, then nodded.

  "Makes sense. But even if you did it for some lesser reason, I'd still have wanted to make it easier on you."

  Evie spent a little bit longer looking at her rapier, tail twitching, then dismissed it. She looked up at Sara with an even expression, even as her ears began to ftten like a kitten with a new toy.

  "Thank you, Master. It is wonderful." Evie turned to Tam and Broad, and, shockingly, bowed. Just a slight bend at the hips, ever so subtle, but still there. "Your work is commendable, and I thank you for it, too."

  Broad and Tam both burst into profusive thanks, hardly able to accept such words from the Governess's partner. Sara let them babble for a bit before cutting in.

  "You both have my thanks, as well. I trust that the payment was adequate?"

  "Oh, more than!" Tam insisted. "To have Evie Eliah carrying my work should have been payment enough, Governess!"

  "Well, coin still feels nice in your pocket, I imagine. Is there anything else we'll need to know, regarding care of the handkerchief? You were talking about rejuvenation and stuff?"

  "Oh, no, it should be self-sustaining, ma'am," Broad replied. "The handkerchief should draw its energies from the rapier, which replenishes itself upon the natural reserves of the body and environment. Even if you were to separate them for long enough that the enchantments faded, a few days of contact between them should resolve any issue."

  "I'm gd to hear it. Evie, do you have any questions?"

  Evie had summoned the handkerchief once more, holding it up to the light. She shook her head. "No, Master. I believe we are ready to depart."

  "Perfect. Tam, do you know the quickest way to a–"

  "To an unoccupied room," Evie cut in, speaking over Sara. "We have business to attend to. I need to correct our schedules to accommodate for this outing."

  "If you are looking for a quiet pce to work, I believe there is a storeroom not too far. Down the hall and to the left, before the stairs, beled as such."

  "Thank you," Evie said, spinning on a heel and stomping out of the room. Sara didn't know what the hurry was, but quickly followed after, hastily waving her goodbyes.

  As they headed for the room, Sara watched Evie's stiffened tail with some concern.

  "Evie? Did you find something in the schedule I screwed up? Hello? Evie?"

  The feline did not answer. Sara followed her to the storeroom, asking questions all the while, and received no response. Evie simply opened the door, stepped inside, and waited for Sara to enter.

  "If it's something that I screwed up, I can– mmph!"

  Sara found her back smming against the door, Evie's palm pinning her in pce. A leg hooked around the back of her knees, pulling them out from under her. Evie loomed over her, cat's pupils blown out into saucers.

  "You, Master, should have allotted more than the morning for this outing."

  Evie dropped down into Sara's p, handkerchief fshing into existence before Sara's eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but was stifled by the handkerchief being shoved into her mouth.

  "And as there is a public hallway behind you, you are going to have to learn how to be quiet. Do you think you can do that for me, Master?"

  Sara's st coherent memory was of nodding frantically, Evie's hands reaching for her belt.