The next morning, Soral burst into her office with more ferocity than usual, checked the time, and practically collapsed. “I made it! I cut it so close!”

  “Soral?” Ruena asked, only to find him unresponsive where he had collapsed. He was breathing fine, so he must have just lost consciousness. She would be more worried if this didn’t happen so often. The man had a terrible habit of avoiding sleeping until his body forced it upon him.

  Fallen on the floor next to him was a carefully wrapped gift box that bore the branding of The Design Clothing Shoppe. She didn’t need the dress until this afternoon at the earliest. Why had he been in such a rush? Unless he was aware of his body’s condition and counting that into his timing. For someone who always seemed so free, Soral was always obsessed with time, and how much certain tasks took.

  “You silly man,” Ruena told him, shoving him onto the couch that had been moved to her office for just this situation, “I might as well take a look at it.”

  Rosalie, who had just stopped in for her regular report, smiled with excitement. “Can I see? If it is something he prepared for you, it must be amazing!”

  “I suppose I should at least try it on,” Ruena agreed and took the box to her room with Rosalie hot on her heels.

  The box was lighter than she expected, considering the weight of the protective material of her uniform. Once inside her room, she carefully opened the box to see what Soral had designed. The dress was a deep crimson with gold accents and embroidery. She noted that the lion sigil of Alodan was included in that embroidery.

  As Ruena picked it up to examine it further she realized it was clearly heavily enchanted, and by Soral personally. It was so light she could barely feel it, but the fabric was neither thin nor sheer. There was also no needless exposure, as she had silently requested. She had no intention of following foolish trends when clothes made by Soral were practically armor.

  “Try it on,” Rosalie prompted, “I’ll guard the door so no one can disturb you.”

  Ruena began changing once Rosalie secured the door. To her relief, the dress was also easy to wear, and it was incredibly comfortable. She took a few strides to test, and the skirt did not hinder her movements. Soral had fulfilled all of his promises with this armor disguised as a noble’s dress. Just how long had he been making clothing for nobles?

  “It’s amazing,” Rosalie complimented when Ruena invited her back in, “Have you checked the mirror yet?”

  “No,” Ruena replied, “I suppose I should make sure it suits me.”

  She opened her closet door, revealing the full length mirror attached to the inside of the door. Perhaps it was the dress, or the nostalgia of the situation, but it suddenly struck her anew how much she resembled her father. Her black hair that framed her face, and the golden eyes that resembled a cat’s. Or rather, a lion. No one could doubt her when she bore the unmistakable traits of Alodan.

  “This will do nicely,” Ruena approved, “I knew Soral would pull through.”

  “The ball is tonight, right?” Rosalie confirmed, “Have you thought of your hairstyle and makeup?”

  Hairstyle and makeup? The two had never even entered Ruena’s thoughts. “Will it be a problem if I don’t?”

  “You need to make a strong impression, so probably. You should at least do your hair,” Rosalie explained, “Nobles tend to value appearances above all else.”

  “I cannot live my life playing to their tastes,” Ruena argued.

  “No, but tonight is special. First impressions are especially important,” Rosalie pressed, “After that, you can continue as normal.”

  It was a little frustrating that everyone seemed to know more about noble society than her, but Ruena had purposely avoided that world so she was the one to blame. She would put that off for now. Instead she ran the warriors through the plan and made sure everyone was on board. Perhaps it was a bit overkill, but she needed to show her hand and that she had no intention of backing down.

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  Soral woke up with as much ferocity as he had appeared that morning and dragged Ruena off to help her get ready. “Don’t worry,” he assured, “I arranged everything for you. No one will be able to look down on you after we are through.”

  “We?” Ruena asked a bit warily.

  Soral made some kind of grabbing motion and pulled a very surprised woman out of thin air. “Where?! Oh, Soral! Is it that time already? I didn’t realize the transfer would be so… instant.” Based on the various brushes and clips on her person, she would be a hairstylist. “Soral, you have to keep your promise, alright?”

  “Of course,” Soral replied, “If you give her a style I approve of, I will fund your own personal shop under my name.”

  He had even been making promises to arrange everything for her. It made Ruena’s own efforts towards this event feel a bit lacking. The entire plan hinged on Soral once again. Had Densooth been right about her holding him back? The sudden tug on her hair chased away her thoughts as Ruena was rushed through style after style until Soral gave his approval. She also stopped to do light makeup.

  “Such long dark lashes,” she gushed, “You don’t even need mascara.”

  Feeling a bit left behind, Ruena suddenly realized it was time. “Soral, we need to go,” she warned, “Are you ready? Are all of the Warriors ready?”

  “Of course,” Soral promised, changing his clothes with magic in an instant to look more like a commander in dress uniform.

  They met the rest of the Warriors in the training feel. Each was properly dressed in uniform and standing at attention. Ruena had thought they were a small group, but gathered together like this, it was enough to be imposing. They followed Soral’s directions perfectly, and not one of them even blinked when he began to open the portals.

  The plan was something perhaps only Soral could achieve. Hundreds of portals would surround the Alodan mansion showing them the full might of the Alodan Warriors without having a single one take a step onto enemy land. Then, before anyone had a chance to recover from the shock, Soral would open a portal at the entrance and escort Ruena through. The Warriors would remain on standby in the case that Velcorna refused to vacate on her own.

  Portals opened one after another. Even from this side, it was an incredible sight. She could already hear a commotion begin from the other side. Then Soral opened their portal and carefully escorted her through. Hundreds of eyes shifted their attention from the spectacle on the outside to the uninvited guest who arrived so flashily.

  “Who is this?” the greeter asked nervously. Velcorna herself approached the door behind him, and Ruena could see the shock on her face.

  “This is Ruena Alodan, the true master of Alodan,” Soral announced.

  “I’m home,” Ruena confirmed with a somewhat vicious smile, “Now that I am back it is time for the intruder to take her leave. Velcorna, you have no right to Alodan or its assets. I may not be able to prove your crimes, but I do have the power to claim what is mine. Leave this place at once.”

  ==========

  Soral was lost. They had left him in some low security prison near the exit, so he had to make his way deeper in on his own. He did have to give the Blacksmith some credit. He had turned his home base into a proper maze, one Soral continued to head deeper inside of. At least he thought he was heading deeper inside.

  It was unsettling how empty this place was. There were no signs of life, but there was constant evidence of terrible things. Rooms with unsettling labels, tools used for surgery proudly displayed, though the Blacksmith was no surgeon. Despite all of this, everything was perfectly clean and spotless. He had expected more of a horror scene, or at least some blood.

  Time was running out, and Soral was beginning to wonder if he should just find a good place to hide and disappear to reset his various timelines. The one downside to being in multiple places at once was that it all fell apart if you didn’t reset it daily. That was when Soral came across some kind of cell with someone in it. A child with black hair that oddly reminded him of himself.

  The boy noticed him and smiled. “You look strong,” he said, “Are you here to play? I can play well even when I am broken because I am the Blacksmith’s favorite Blade.”

  That was a horrifying thought. Soral checked the thoughts for a moment to confirm that playing definitely meant fighting. “I can’t play with you right now,” Soral told him, “I am almost out of time.”

  “Out of time?” the boy asked, “Can you come back and play?”

  “I will,” Soral promised. If nothing else, he wanted to rescue him. Maybe he would do well with Mr. Mischief or Storm if he enjoyed fighting so much. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been bluffing about being out of time. He didn’t even have a spare moment to hide from the boy before disappearing. He had to put his promise with Ruena first, but this version of himself would be back within four hours.