"Can I help you?"

  The same dragonette who had watched Aytin approach through the window of Citadel Needleworks was giving him a dubious look. She shifted her gaze behind him, and her expression softened slightly as she gave Nell a small nod. For her part, the guard gave a brief wave to the clerk, patted Aytin on the back, and turned to walk down the stairs.

  Aytin stepped inside the small showroom and let the door shut behind him. There were two other people in the shop, an older male in one corner and an assistant holding some sort of measuring tape along his outstretched arm. They were all staring at him.

  "I know I look like a mess," he said with a tight lipped smile. "I was hoping you can help with that."

  The proprietor nodded slowly. She wore a spotless outfit of pure white cloth with gleaming silver buttons. Her expression wasn't hostile, but it was certainly scrutinizing as she answered. "We certainly can. But you have to understand that all of our outfits here at Citadel Needleworks are made from the finest materials and we take pride in our tailoring. I'd hate to waste your time if you are looking for something more casual."

  'Got to appreciate her tact. She could give mother lessons. But I learned a thing or two from her as well.'

  Aytin shook his head slightly, keeping his expression friendly. "Actually, that's exactly what I'm looking for, although it's probably hard to believe." He waved a hand at himself and let his smile turn wry. "But I completely understand where you're coming from. Would a deposit help at all?"

  He hunted around in his money pouch and came up with ten silver coins. When he set them on a countertop, the proprietor's expression shifted slightly, the wariness dropping away as she reevaluated her potential customer.

  "That would... certainly simplify things, yes." She collected the coins before pulling out a small booklet and scribbling some notes on it.

  Aytin realized that her writing implement wasn't the quill or charcoal stick he was used to, but something wooden with a black tip and a bit of membrane leather at the other end.

  He only got a brief look at it, though, before she stuck it and the paper into a pocket and gave him a small bow. "My name is Scotia and I'd be happy to take care of you. If I could have your name?"

  "Luffin. I'm Aytin Luffin." He gave his own nod in reply.

  "Master Luffin, then," she said with a brilliant smile, ears pricked and attentive. "What exactly were you looking for today?"

  "Well, I just got in from the frontier and my outfit seems to be just a little out of style."

  Scotia chuckled at the joke. "Of course. We do often help people from the more distant corners of the kingdom on their arrival. Although your case may be a bit extreme."

  "I lost my luggage, unfortunately, and had to improvise. I'm going to have to replace it all, eventually, but I'm in a bit of a hurry today. Do you think you could help me put together an outfit to wear in the meantime?"

  "No trouble at all!" She led him over to the far side of the store from the other customer. There was an alcove with a couple of padded stools, an empty rack for hanging clothes, some sort of fold out screen, and a tall mirror.

  Aytin hadn't actually seen a mirror since he had left home the year before. The dragonette that stared back at him from the silver-backed glass was different than he remembered.

  He still wasn't any taller. That much hadn't changed. But he was definitely leaner, features sharper, with every hint of fat gone from his face. Little lines of silver were scattered across his exposed hide, scars from all he had suffered at the hands of Xantha and her band.

  The reflection certainly wasn't some sheltered noble's son. Not one who had grown up rather comfortably on the edge of the middle ring.

  "Master Luffin?"

  Scotia was at his side, a striped cord in one hand and her notebook in the other. She gave him a polite smile as he turned to face her and said, "If you'll take off your jacket, I'll just get your measurements."

  He nodded and shrugged out of the leather coat. It was a little much for mid-spring, which no doubt added to his rough appearance.

  "Now, if you'll raise your arms and relax your wings," Scotia continued once Aytin finished hanging his coat.

  He did so, letting his wings extend slightly to either side. As he did, he heard a small intake of breath from the tailor.

  To her credit, that was her only reaction to the wing scars. She got right to work, sliding her measuring cord this way and that before jotting notes with that odd writing stick. As she worked, she started asking questions.

  "What sort of outfit were you looking for? You mentioned time being an issue, so I assume you don't want anything custom."

  "Maybe another time." Aytin raised one arm slightly at a gentle nudge before continuing. "I just want to look presentable for now. I don't plan on going to meet the king in it or anything. It's only, well, the welcome I've been getting in this has been, uh..."

  "I understand, sir. We have a number of outfits that should suit your needs. Did you have a style in mind?"

  He started to shake his head, but broke off as Scotia looped the cord around his neck. "No, like I said, I just got in from the frontier. I wouldn't know where to start."

  "Hmmm..." The tailor paused her measurements, taking a step back to examine her customer with a practiced eye. "Will you be spending your time in one place? Or will you be traveling about the city?"

  "I think I'd prefer to be able to move around if I need to." He had things that needed doing, and they wouldn't come to him.

  "Something with a good range of motion, then. Maybe a little warmer than an outfit for wearing around the home."

  "That sounds great," Aytin said, remembering the bone-deep chill of early spring whenever they had to leave the caves. And he was from the south. He could handle a little heat.

  "Excellent. I know just the thing, if you'll wait a moment." He nodded and she disappeared through a doorway into the back of the shop.

  The clothing in the showroom seemed more set up for display than anything. It looked particularly fancy to Aytin's untrained eye.

  One piece in particular caught his attention. A dress of some sort of shimmering silk. It was either enchanted or made from some sort of magical material because waves of color seemed to flow along the edges. A belt of fine golden links wrapped around its waist, adding a splash of contrast to the outfit.

  He couldn't help imagining what Rina would look like in it.

  'She'd hate it, of course. Couldn't move without rattling or so much as fly in case it tore the fabric.'

  The image still stuck with him, right up until Scotia returned with several items of clothing draped across one arm.

  One by one, she held them out to examine. There were a pair of linen trousers and a matching shirt. Both were bleached so white that they practically glowed.

  The belt she offered was made of some sort of leather, supple and dyed blue with a silver buckle. A woolen vest completed the outfit. It was the same shade of blue as the belt, although it was accented with fine white threadwork.

  Aytin looked closer and found that each of the four silver buttons sported an engraving: The same needle and tower as had been carved in the sign outside. It could have been done at the royal mint for the fine details.

  'I guess Xantha told the truth about something after all. They really do some good work here.' Not that he had really doubted it. Reed had vouched for the place as well, as had Nell.

  "This should work very well," Aytin said as he finished looking over the vest and passed it back to Scotia.

  "Excellent. I can get started on the alterations just as soon as payment is settled."

  That ended up being forty-four silver, almost four and a half gold pieces. It took an effort of will for Aytin to hide a wince as he counted it out. The sum was as much as most keep dwellers would earn in a year.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  He wanted to haggle, but this didn't seem the sort of place for it. The price also wasn't too far off from what his mother had told him to expect. In the end, he could afford it.

  "These shouldn't take much work. I'll have them ready for you within the hour," Scotia told him after depositing the coins in a lockbox.

  Aytin nodded. Then he looked around, suddenly feeling out of place. The other customer had left and his attendant was busy working on some alterations. There didn't seem to be anything like a waiting area, though, and this wasn't the sort of place you loitered around. Especially the way he looked.

  Scotia noticed his sudden hesitance and cocked her head for a moment before a thought occurred. "In the meantime, you've obviously been away from amenities for quite some time, yes?"

  His ears twitched and he had to suppress an ironic grin at the understatement. "You have no idea."

  The tailor reached into a pocket and withdrew a wooden token. "Then if you don't mind the suggestion, my uncle Sevill is the proprietor of a bathhouse just a few doors down. You can take this to him and tell him that Scotia said that she would cover your stay."

  'She's telling me I stink,' Aytin thought, with a silent snort. She was right, though. He hadn't had a decent scrub since leaving Lazon's Rest and that was only with a lukewarm bucket and some lye soap.

  "Thank you, and you're right. A soak sounds great," he replied with a grateful smile as he accepted the token.

  "I'll have your outfit sent there as soon as it's ready. Just go down the stairs, take a left, and look for the short building with the red double doors. Sev's Bathhouse, you can't miss it."

  After thanking her and promising to return the next time he needed any new clothes, Aytin left the shop and headed up the street. It was a good thing that the place was so close, because he was once more the subject of suspicious glances and mutters right up until he ducked inside his destination.

  Surprisingly, Sevill - or Sev as he insisted on being called - greeted him enthusiastically the moment he walked through the doors. He had, to put it politely, a robust figure. About average height for a male, but big enough that he probably struggled to get airborne from a running start.

  That didn't seem to trouble him, though. His perpetually perked ears and broad grin were infectious, and Aytin found himself smiling in return as he passed over Scotia's token.

  "Another one of Little Tosha's friends!" he boomed.

  Aytin didn't bother pointing out that the tailor was both taller than her uncle and not really a friend. He just accepted the offered towel, brush, and directions to a private room with a large wash basin and a drain.

  Within moments of entering the room, there was a knock at the door. Aytin opened it to find a boy who bore a striking resemblance to Sev holding up two steaming pails of water. He filled the basin, gave a brief nod, and left without saying a word.

  Scrubbing off the accumulated grime took a while. After so long in the wilds, it was just something that he had learned to live with, and it had just built up. The water quickly took on a distinctly murky tint as he lathered, rinsed, and worked away at stubborn grime.

  It took longer than he had thought possible, but eventually the water came away clean. Draping himself in the provided towel, Aytin made his way up the hall and into the soaking room.

  A wave of steaming air slammed into him as he entered. Aytin slipped inside, quickly closing the door behind himself to prevent any of that glorious warmth from escaping.

  The bathhouse was segregated, of course, so both of the current occupants were male. One of them seemed engrossed in a book while the other stared at the tiled ceiling above. Neither took any notice of the new arrival.

  The water wrapped around him like a blanket. Warm, right on the edge of hot without quite reaching uncomfortable. Energizing and relaxing all at once. Like sunbathing on the perfect spring afternoon.

  A current crossed the young dragonette's feet as he got himself situated. He glanced in the direction it came from and saw where a thick clay pipe poked into the pool. Not that it really mattered to him as he settled in, leaning back in a slot that accommodated his wings and tail.

  There were over a dozen similar slots scattered around the pool. Aytin didn't know if that meant business was bad or it was just a slow time of day. Nor did he care about anything other than letting the gentle warmth banish aches and chills he never even knew he had.

  What felt like mere moments later, someone was shaking him gently by the shoulder.

  Aytin's eyes fluttered open as he registered the touch and the quiet conversation around him. The previous occupants had been replaced by a small crowd, several of whom were speaking softly to each other. Glancing up, he saw the smiling face of Sev beaming down at him

  "This just got dropped off for you." He held up a bulky, wrapped parcel. "Tosha said you'd want to know right away. But me, I'd not be in any sort of rush. I can just leave this with the rest of your things."

  "No, she was right." Aytin rose, and waded towards the stairs. With no small reluctance, he stepped out of the pool's luxurious embrace and accepted an offered towel. Scales and hide dried quickly, but his wings took a little longer.

  Once again, he felt eyes on him. This time, it was his scared wings that marked him out. He ignored the looks and accepted the package from Sev then left the curious bathers behind for the privacy of a changing room.

  True to Scotia's word, the clothes fit perfectly. There wasn't any mirror in the room, but everything certainly felt right. Snug, but not constricting. He turned this way and that, and the fabric hardly bunched. A few experimental wing flaps promised that flying would be no trouble, either.

  Aytin's old clothes went into his pack. All except for his knife, which he fastened to his right hip. It looked a little out of place compared to the rest of the finery, but he didn't care. It wouldn't be leaving his side ever again.

  The dragonette that walked out of Sev's Bathhouse would have been unrecognizable to anyone who watched him enter. Clean, with fresh clothes, and energy in his step.

  None of the river of passersby paid him a second look. And there were more of them than before. A lot more.

  The crowds didn't quite pack the boulevard from one edge to the other, but they came close. Everyone moved this way and that, competing with carts for space as they rushed off to who knew where. Navigating the mess must have been a skill because Aytin found himself the recipient of a number of dirty looks as he jostled other pedestrians.

  Taking to the sky was out of the question. No way he could get a running start in this mess. He had no idea how anyone could hope to get around in the city until he spotted a few dragonettes diving off the upper stories of buildings and extending their wings.

  There was also a steady stream of fliers approaching and departing from the square he had come from. A little curious to see what it looked like when it was busy, Aytin turned to the left and did his best to dodge and weave through traffic.

  Twice, the press of bodies suddenly let up only to reveal an oncoming cart. The second time, Aytin was forced to channel his magic to stay standing as he barely managed to lean out of the way. When the crowds finally parted, he thought that he was going to have to throw himself to the side again. Instead, he was greeted by the relative calm of the square.

  It had certainly changed. Some of the shops seemed shuttered for the day, but others were doing a booming business. Especially the pair of corner taverns.

  White had a line five or six long in front of his cart. Aytin waved at the elderly proprietor, but either he was too busy to notice or else didn't recognize his earlier customer.

  Nell was nowhere to be seen. He did catch a glimpse of a few city guard uniforms standing around. More than just the pair from before.

  The center of the square seemed to be relatively clear. Dragonettes were regularly taking off and landing from it, so he made his way over there. A short run later and he was in the air.

  There was a massive shadow covering the city between Aytin and his destination. It got longer with every wingbeat as the sun sank behind the Royal Palace.

  His flight back was very different from before. The skies weren't exactly full. There couldn't be enough dragonettes in the city for that to happen. But they were more crowded with dragons and dragonettes flying every which way.

  Something dark blue blurred past him, and he belatedly banked away from the young dragon. Only about the size of a very streamlined cow, it couldn't be much older than he was. The dragon still had no trouble outpacing him as it streaked towards the center of the city.

  Thankfully, that was about the only excitement he had during the flight. This time, the guards didn't pay him a second glance. His dress marked him as someone who belonged in among the better class of residents, even if his wing scars were rather distinctive.

  When he passed by the guard who had hassled him earlier, he had to grin. She had taken one look his way and kept on circling.

  Aytin landed at a jog and slowed to a stop right in front of his family crest. A smaller sign next to the door proclaimed it to be the place of business for Luffin Exports.

  Most of the other buildings along the street had similar setups. He recognized a few other crests from his studies. Middling nobility, mostly. A few cadet branches of larger houses.

  The streets weren't nearly as crowded as the ones he had left, but there were a few dragonettes passing by. They glanced his way with mild curiosity, but nothing more.

  Stepping up to the door, he hesitated. The journey had been so long. At times it had seemed like the gods themselves were conspiring to keep him from making it to this very spot. And now he was here and his journey was over.

  'It's not over yet. Not even close.'

  Aytin reached out for the brass knocker and slammed it home. Once. Twice. Three times.

  And then he waited.

  And waited.

  He frowned and listened. There was no sound of motion from inside.

  That was when he noticed something that he had missed before, so wrapped up in his own thoughts. A little thing, really. Just some words roughly burned on a piece of wood and set near the threshold:

  Closed for the day

  Aytin turned his gaze heavenward and let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. "Seriously, which one of you up there has it out for me?! Is it something I did? I said? What?!" It was like his life was some performance for a god who insisted on never letting the smallest thing go right.

  Whether or not there were gods involved, his presence did seem to draw some attention. Wings fluttered behind him, and talons clacked against cobblestones. "Can I... help you?" someone panted.

  It had been years since he had last heard that voice, but Aytin knew what he would see when he turned around. A male a little taller than him, with muscled limbs and a thin face. Horns that curved straight back from their thick bases. No blood relation to Aytin's father, after all.

  The male was fanning his wings and seemed to be trying to cool off despite his light clothes and the mild weather. His thick chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. "I'm sorry, I... I didn't have any appointments this afternoon... So I took my evening flight early. But if you..."

  He trailed off, eyes narrowing as something about the appearance of the stranger in front of him registered. They flicked from his face up to the kink in his horns. And then recognition dawned.

  "You... but... but..." His eyes bulged and mouth fell open in shock. He stumbled, and only just managed to catch himself before he fell.

  "Hey uncle Cork," Aytin said, a rueful smile on his face. "Sorry I'm late."