This weekend we're headed for the town of Dandston, named after the Dandston family, of the Brunbling Dandstons, of which Lady Elica is the foremost and holds the title of earl of these lands.

  I had taken my shower in the middle of the night, guided by an unsleeping soul, and that was for the best because I had badly underestimated the amount of primping and preparing that Elica was going to need before her dramatic return. It was one thing when Larianne and Vancy were both ready to go before Rinnie and Elica were done with her princess process, but then we went out to the quad to chat with Yheta to pass the time and Trazom was ready to go before Elica decided she was ready.

  Larianne was bringing her cousin Nunxio, whose boisterous energy was a fun offset to her cool detachment. Vancy was glommed onto Trazom, who was happily sharing his attention between her and me, and my plus-one for the day is Yheta, but I've told him that he's also to spend plenty of time with Elica because this is her big day. Elica's plus-one, of course, is Rinnie. Which I know doesn't make a lot of sense because it forces the rest of us to shift around to compensate for her, but if I did not define Rinnie as a plus-one then she's a main member of the group and that means that not only would Elica grab an additional person as her plus-one, but I'm positive she'd somehow co-opt Rinnie's plus-one privileges to bring an extra porter or footman or handmaid or whatever. By forcing Rinnie to take Elica's plus-one position, I kept our party down to eight instead of ten or more.

  And since nobody likes it when I start letting my thoughts be consumed by the vast inhumanity of the void, it's best if I don't lose myself to the sorcery today.

  So that's why I cap our expeditions. And after that first time, Elica does not give me a hard time about it. Especially after I convinced her that it was a feedback issue with my magic and not just me being a huge bitch.

  I had carved oak to give us a delightful series of benches, chairs and tables to sit at in the courtyard, and warmed scented air to keep things cozy while we waited. When Elica did come downstairs, she was stunning.

  Look, she's very attractive on her worst day. She's got the face, the body, the hair, the features. Topaz hair, blue-black eyes, and her skin was a cool-toned without being pallid. Add to this, she is vain, self-centered, shallow, judgmental, and critical, so she's always absolutely on point with her hair care, skin care, moisturizing, makeup, styling, grooming and sprucing. But today she's had Rinnie up there and I think they popped open that box of The Good Stuff because she is glowing, divine, amazing.

  She looks like the way poetry feels when it catches you on just the right day.

  "Holy shit," Nunxio said, but aside from that we were speechless. "Only cussing once" counts as speechless for Nunxio.

  Unlike the difficulties of the trip to Tarcelle, I had scouted out the way to Elica's hometown ahead of time so I could get us there in one hop. I don't bother offering blindfolds or eye-covers, I'd rather make this quick. Besides, asking Elica to lay anything on her face that could bend an eyelash or smudge a powder was clearly a no-go; she doesn't need to say anything out loud for me to understand that she did not just spend ninety minutes looking her best for me to offer her a pair of goggles.

  Our day was just beginning and Rinnie already looked like she'd been worked to the bone.

  I threw up a large entrance, a wide white doorway. "Everyone in, quickly all together," I said, and I had that door shut and open again in a second, ushering everyone back out.

  We made an entrance.

  Normally my portals are very attention-getting. I never realize how much until I'm trying to do something stealthy. But to move eight people through as quickly as possible, the logical answer is to make the entry big enough for all of us to walk abreast. Instead of a hovering circle I had it intersect the ground so the visible portion would be a massive half-circle arch and we could put the widest part of the circle right at ground level. All makes sense, right?

  Anyway, that's why we had a thirty-foot-wide-, twenty-foot tall archway that blazed out a searing, blinding, eye-watering light appear right in the middle of the town square right after the breakfast hour was over and the streets were full.

  I did not plan it that way. I thought the main square was a nice logical place to drop in, because it let Elica pick whatever she wanted for our first stop. Just purely pragmatic reasons. Also, I had rather expected us to show up either during the early-morning lull, or when everyone was busy at breakfast. Not the height of morning drive-time.

  But as it would work out, because of her vanity and my pragmatism, we were in the center of town with basically everyone gathered around us when a gateway straight to the sun opened up next to the monument fountain and we walked out in our various fineries, all flanking Lady Elica who was currently floating like an angel in a beautiful world.

  My first impression was screams of surprise and startlement, which was why my first thought was shit I fucked up. I had just that one second to realize that we've made a much bigger display than I anticipated.

  Sometimes I just lose perspective, you know?

  Anyway we all stood there blinking the glare out of our eyes- that portal only stays open for a second but man those afterimages never fade as fast as you think they should. But that meant that we all stood in place, posing dramatically with everyone staring at us while we furiously blinked and rubbed at our eyes. Holding them closed can only do so much, the brilliance of it penetrates straight through the eyelids.

  The whole of the town square is arrayed around us, staring in surprise and amazement at the eight people who have strode out of this consuming effulgence. And then one voice rang out:

  "It's Lady Elica!"

  And every human being in the square, as far as we could see, all hit the deck like there was a gun pointed. This was not "bend at the waist" bowing or "take a knee" obeisance, this was straight-up genuflecting- forehead to the ground, a carpet of humanity crouched flat before their earl.

  So basically the opposite of what Vancy's community had shown us.

  She stood over them all for a long moment, surveying all, as if assuring herself that every posture was perfect, every response was instantaneous. She gave us some time to take in the silence, and then she nodded in satisfaction. "Rise," she said, and her voice carried through the silence. A rustle of bodies and clothing ruffled the air as all the peasantry arrayed around began to take their feet again, picking up whatever they had dropped in their rush to prostrate themselves.

  Her face showed a smug satisfaction when she turned over her shoulder to face me, taking in my reaction. The so what do you think of that? was plain on her expression.

  And.... well, it was impressive. I feel like I should have expected Elica to rule with an iron hand and no patience for insubordination. But apparently that iron fist was holding a hell of a whip if she had the whole town ready to fling themselves to the ground in an instant. Cool. She was not just entitled, spoiled, indulgent, catty vindictive and selfish, she's also a full-blown tyrant.

  We had one like this when I was a child, one of Father's vassals that decided that complete obedience from the citizens was worth the human cost in beatings, detentions, and public punishments. Put some fear into those commoners! so they would stay compliant. Father sent a letter stripping that count of his title, transferred him to a cloistered monastery, and named the tyrant's younger brother as his successor. The same letter mentioned that there was as much demand for new monks as the duke saw fit. The new count found it in his heart to be a very fair-minded proletarian who found non-punitive solutions to problems.

  Back where I come from, people like Earl Elica Dandston of the Brunbling Dandstons get stripped of their titles and sent to plant beans in a garden for the rest of their life.

  So, yes, seeing the way her people responded to her was impressive. Not the way she expected me to be impressed. Vancy looked a little ill.

  Within a minute we had a detachment of city guards with us, flanking and preceding. They moved carefully with us, very alert to signals and movements. The responsiveness of her footmen was somewhere between the murmuration of a flock of birds that all seem to wheel and flow as a single unit, and the precision of a commando unit running live-fire drills.

  When we turned a corner, there was already a guardsman ahead of us calling out "All take a knee for Earl Elica Dandston!" and the people arrayed before us would take a knee and bring their heads down, not a full supplication like the town square but a very deep and submissive posture nonetheless. Everywhere we went, everyone was already bowing towards us, and would stay that way until we had passed out of sight. Runners ahead to announce us, flanks spread to keep an unprepared citizen from stumbling into the scene without warning. Other guards riding drag behind us in case we were to double back.

  At all times, Elica moved within a bubble of bowing, scraping veneration, sealed within these announcing guards so that she never needed to see a villager who wasn't already offering honors.

  "This place does the finest breakfasts," Lady Elica said, breaking a strained silence that had lasted for three streets now. "I often have them cater my meals in."

  We had been announced: there was a guardsman wearing her livery standing at attention to one side, and the staff in the bakery were already down on one knee, caps doffed and heads bowed. "Rise," she said cheerily. "My friends and I have not eaten."

  The bakery had a restaurant seating at the front, a half-dozen tables with two-to-four chairs each. Half of them had plates set out with cooling food and half-finished drinks, but no other customers in sight. I could see two chairs tipped over onto the ground, as if knocked over in haste. The diners had apparently sprinted out of here by the back or side exits, so as not to find themselves in her way. People had abandoned their breakfasts just so they were not between Elica and the bakery's servers.

  We had the owner of the bakery approach us, tying on a waitress's aprons. "My Lady. My lords, ladies. How may I serve today?"

  Now, I was cringing myself in half already. I had, from the beginning, had a hard time adjusting to the culture of servants and nobles. It was hard for anyone raised with the sort of egalitarian values you get in the working class, I think. I had been difficult about that as a child, trying to insist on doing things myself so I wouldn't be troubling anyone. They treated it as a cute mannerism and urged me to grow out of it. I was insistent that it is demeaning and degrading for one person to serve for another in that way. But, as my mother had explained gently, it's only degrading if the person is being degraded. Someone can serve without being oppressed, and someone can be served without being an oppressor.

  I still don't buy it, not really. It still feels way too much like justifications and rationalizations. But if I didn't start paying attention people were going to think I had a learning disability or some sort of antisocial delusions, so eventually I stopped fighting it.

  But for real, sitting down to a table in Dandston Town sure did fire up all those old instincts and make me resent the ruling class that I happened to belong to now.

  "I'm actually really hungry, I'll just have whatever is nearest-ready to serve," I said with a tight smile. My hope was that she would just bring me whatever she had been about to serve to a paying customer so at least that effort and food would not go to waste. Vancy nodded, and mirrored my words. I think she was wincing just as hard as I was.

  Yheta asked about the house specialty, and then he and Trazom had a cheery little discussion about those offerings before deciding to order all three of the best selections to share between them. Nunxio ordered a steak, despite the fact that nothing about this place indicated that they could cook a steak. The owner/waitress turned and made eye contact with a kitchen boy who gave her a nod and sprinted out the side door. Probably headed towards the nearest steakhouse. Larianne ordered something simple and unpretentious, already bored. Rinnie was looking at the abandoned breakfasts at the other tables, and pointed at a really delicious-looking order, and said that she would have one of those.

  And then Elica ordered. It was extravagant, and she used terms that I've never heard before. I think she may have made some of them up herself to describe some detail about how she liked her meals done in a very particular way, because I'm sure that eggs "poached at three-quarter profile" is not actually a thing. Quail-heart crepes with foie gras. A custard with frozen strawberries from last year's harvest. A funnel cake, but make sure the milk comes from Inpa's dairy and not the usual place.

  The owner/waitress's face was going paler as the order continued, every detail clearly raising the stakes to near-insurmountable difficulty. And then with a nasty smile, Elica sent the woman on her way. She turned to us. "So, I will be taking us through the shopping district until lunch, and I'll have the local players put on a stage show for us at the amphitheater. I hope you're all ready to have a great time!"

  Breakfast was a misery of second-hand embarrassment. The shop boy made it back with Nunxio's steak and the baker had already figured out how to heat up a cast-iron toasting rack to the right temperature to grill it. Messengers and runners brought in chefs and line-cooks from neighboring locations to fill in, or came back with the fussy finicky difficult detailed ingredients that Elica had specified. I was lucky that I got my order right away because they had a small order of kolaches fresh, hot and ready to go. I shared some with the others as we went, and so did Vancy- a mercy because everything else took ages to get out. There was no way that kitchen was going to prioritize any item from any dish over the Earl's own order.

  We were chasing crumbs around on our plate from the stretched-thin kolaches when Elica's sumptuous repast was brought out.

  She was a terror. She took two bites of the quail-heart crepe, declared it overdone, and threw it onto the floor. She sampled the poached eggs, sneered that they were at best a half profile, and shoved them away. The funnel cake was announced to be too cold, and she insisted they be warmed up, but not dried out. No, not a fresh order, the same funnel cake but warmed up without ruining the consistency. The custard she was delighted with, but demanded to see records detailing the provenance of those strawberries to make sure exactly which harvest they had come from.

  I think I need to kill my roommate for high crimes against the service industry. Also, from the fear I was seeing, she might also be guilty of some much more conventional crimes against humanity.

  I slipped a platinum crown out of the pocket in my sleeve and set it on my tea saucer, covered by a spoon. I handed it to the owner with a pained sympathetic grimace pulled the spoon back where Elica could not see. That is not a tip for a breakfast, a coin like that would buy a modest house. It still felt like the least I could do after sitting by and letting Elica act like this. I felt complicit in something terrible. Buying my way to a salved conscience is not great, it's a little too much like buying indulgences for crimes, but the alternative is to sit by and actually do nothing. Or to challenge Elica on something in public where she could be embarrassed by it. I think that calling her out with witnesses could make her fly right off the handle.

  I don't really believe that Elica would have all of these people tortured to death for witnessing me arguing with her over her behavior. But, I have been surprised by people in the past and I don't think it's impossible for her to do that. So I guess I really do kind of believe she would do that.

  Shit.

  Then she paid for all our breakfasts with two more platinum crowns, enough to buy the whole bakery itself, and led us out into the streets towards the shopping districts.

  "Shopping for what?" Vancy asked.

  "I think handbags today," Elica said. "We've got a great many shops that do that work, all in the same lane, you'll love it."

  Vancy chewed at her lip. "I do love a good handbag," she admitted begrudgingly.

  Nunxio jammed his hands in his pockets. "It would be physically impossible for me to care less about shopping for handbags."

  Larianne rolled her eyes. "Buy one for your girlfriend, you lug. Pick one she could keep a brick in as a surprise weapon."

  He brightened at the suggestion of a brick-laden purse as a hidden weapon in plain sight. Trazom was happy just to be included in all this, and started babbling to Vancy and Rinnie about what I had told him about how people loved to talk about shops and shopping. Vancy assured him this was absolutely true. Rinnie dithered a little, weaseled a little, then stated that some people of certain social classes would talk about things like that to no end. Rinnie's family back home was more likely to discuss what kind of places were hiring.

  Yheta sort of orbited back and forth between me and Elica, towards her to be neighborly to the woman showing us around her demesne, and towards me because he's a [ Love Interest ] after all. Where I felt bad about Elica's behavior and kind of wanted to put some distance between us, Yheta would walk alongside and take my elbow and draw me a little closer to her. Soon we were all three nearly arm-in-arm, and I tried to find a way to be comfortable with this.

  Meanwhile Trazom had taken hold of both Rinnie and Vancy as the least scary unattached women here, and was chatting mile-a-minute with both of them and towing them a little closer to me as well, all a tight-knit knot. Nunxio and Larianne walked behind, she seemed bored but he was talking effusively about everything that crossed his field of vision.

  We passed by a music shop and Trazom pretended not to notice it, even when Nunxio called out to him to bring it to his attention.

  Vancy tugged loose to walk up next to Elica.

  "Oh, is this where we go for handbags? That place looks cute! Toto Tanel?"

  "No, not that one. Everything there is made to accommodate purse-dogs, and you don't have one of those."

  "Oh, then this place!"

  "Hoho Hanel? That's all very seasonal, we'd be wasting our time."

  "Oh, I love these name-brand designers over here!"

  "Look closer, that's Fauxfaux Fhanel, a very clever knockoff."

  "Well, we can stop by this place. They look good for a night out dancing!"

  "Gogo Ghanel? Good choice," and Elica led us inside.

  I paused, glancing at the next shop down the lane. Elica paused next to me, shaking her head. "They look nice, but they have a very unique problem with their straps. Pass."

  "Yoyo Yhanel," I mused aloud. "I feel like I'm missing something here."

  So it turns out that handbags designed specifically for parties with dances are a much more dedicated industry than I would have expected. Dedicated pouches for an emergency pair of slippers, hooks to hang shoes that broke down or have become too uncomfortable, cinched straps for better mobility, side pockets for a dance card, and more. I found one that was designed to fold up the strap inside it and then clasp inconspicuously to the underside of a table so that you can set it out of the way and then retrieve it later. To me that seemed the best bet, since most of those other functions are either covered by my existing wardrobe or my powers of sorcery. I don't need a special pocket for dance cards or tip coins, almost all of my dress gloves already have both.

  We fussed about with fabrics and straps, I waited while a brass clasp was changed out for silver because it went with my complexion and my house colors better, and a charm ring added so I could attach small colored tags in case I needed to add house allegiances to my clutch. Vancy bought a couple of the Gogo's because she liked having options to go with different outfits, Elica just walked around and bantered with us and the store clerks as we shopped. She seemed to enjoy the terrified flop-sweat that the cashier was giving.

  Larianne did not ever go dancing but she picked up a bag over at Soso Shanel because it was good enough.