"That idea was stupid. In fact, no, it was more than stupid. It was so unutterably stupid that I, as a well-bred lady, cannot describe the depths of its idiocy without using words which I should not even know, let alone say. I certainly would not imply that the only way that you could say something like that is that your father was, in fact, the village idiot, and so was your maternal grandfather. I'm talking about the same commoner there, incidentally. And that you, too, like to roll around in the mud like some degenerate pig, engaging in carnal activity with the peasantry. Of course, I would not dare to imply it, because it would be rude. Oh, if you think I've insulted your honour – which is worth about that of the dung you roll around in every day – all you have to do is challenge me to a duel, which I as a brave Tristainian maiden would be forced to reluctantly accept. Or are you too chicken?"

Eleanore de la Vallière



"God and Founder, why did this have to happen now? Why, why, why? This is…" a clatter of bottles, "ooops! Well, it's just as well the lid stayed on and… argh! Need to wash quickly, quickly, come on water! Come on! Come on! Why won't you…"

There was a splash. And then a scream.

The two minions standing by the door stared in mild curiosity as something began to seep through the grand doorway to the bathhouse.

The strangeness did not quite resemble frogspawn, nor did it resemble the frothing of a rabid dog, nor the horrors which come from the dark malevolence of an insane alchemist, though it drew inspiration from all three and more. One of the browns bent over, and gathered up some of the effervescing aerosol on a finger. And then licked it.

"Bleargh!" it said. "That horrible! I no know what overlady do in there, but I not want to know."

"Oh no," said the other one, "I no think that it can be that bad." It picked at the foam. "I right!" the minion crowed. "It not that bad!" There was a pause. "It much, much worse! I think I go be sick now," he said, and promptly was, into one of the ornate vases by the entrance to the bathroom.

"It taste of… of sugar and spiceys and all things niceys," the minion said, as it recovered.

"Told you so," said the first one. "What I thinks is, I thinks that…" and then it was silent, because it noticed that there were two figures which radiated dark energy in front of it.



There were bubbles.

There were bubbles everywhere. Overflowing out of the bath, filling the air, covering her body and in her mouth. Louise spat out the latter party, and gasped for breath. In retrospect, she considered, as she groped blindly through the mess, she should probably have not used an entire bottle of alchemical bath foam.

She should also probably have not dropped the other bottle in when she slipped over.

"Overlady," she heard one of the minions call out, voice muffled by the bubbles which surrounded and encompassed her, "you got guesties! The oversister and a demon are here to see you!"

"Hey Louise!" Cattleya called out. "Are you decent? Well, I mean, decent in the dressed sense, not in the whole 'trying to be a force of Evil' and stuff like that. But still?"

"Louise!" a devilishly attractive man interrupted. "Guess what guess what guess what guess what!"

Louise swooned at the sound of the voice, sagging down through the bubbles. Her knees suddenly felt like very warm jelly. She used her new position on the ground to headbutt the floor, and felt somewhat better able to think. "What, Jessica?" she forced out. "And no, Catt, I… I think… I think we can talk through the door."

"Oh, that's a really, really good idea," the m… Jessica said. "You would not believe how much trouble I had getting here. You want to know why my top is ripped? Yeah, I made the mistake of walking into the main room of the bar and… trust me, it's a good thing Dad was there, because most of the women and some of the men in there got out of control. Well, okay, they started chasing me. And I had to grab an axe. It's just I've never been so so so excited!"

The overlady realised she had been drooling when she got bubbles in her mouth. She spat them out and tried to focus. "C-can you take a d-deep breath and calm down?" she asked. "Or write… um, a note and put it under the d-door?"

"Try getting angry, Louise!" Cattleya contributed. "You're adorable when you get angry!"

"That's not at all helpful, Catt!" Louise blazed. "Just because you're not affected by it because of… uh, your condition doesn't mean you get away with being unhelpful when it's really hard to think! Jessica, say it quickly, and then we can talk when you're calmer!"

"Okay, okay!" Jessica said. "We're both up for Cabal Awards! I'm up for Best Outfit, and you're up for… get this straight… you're up for both Best Newcomer and Best Halkeginian Villain! I've been reading the journals and they're really, really impressed by your attack on the de la Vallière estate and how you killed the comte de Mott! They say you've got a real chance for both of them… you're not the favourite for either, but you could do really well!"

"… this was your most important thing ever?" Louise said in disbelief. The bubbles were clearing, somewhat. Which was to say, when hugging a pillar she stood back up, she could see something above the level of the bubbles. Wading, relying on touch, she managed to clamber up onto one of the ornamental plinths and thanked the fact that she hadn't been able to afford the statue she had been planning to put there.

"It is! It's so, so important! It's the biggest day of my life ever ever ever!" Jessica squealed. She took a deep breath. "Oh my dark gods, this is such a big thing! We're going to need new dresses and we're going to be in front of all the journals so I'm going to have to make something as fancy and amazing looking for you as I possibly can because this is like… free advertising and this is the perfect way to expand on the range of the new aesthetic of ferrous feminine chic and go against the anthrognostic paradigm prevalent in the male-gaze orientated designs so common and so show my damn succubus cousins that they aren't the be-all-and-end-all of female fashion and we can raise your profile and…" there was a thud.

"She collapsed!" Cattleya said. "She wasn't breathing, and then I remembered that people need to do that and they can't talk and talk like I can… well, I mean, I need air to do the talking, but not in the same way that living people do."

"I'm all right!" Jessica called out. "I… I think I'll just stay down here for a moment, because I'm a little woozy and also so excited that… well, my feet have turned into hooves and they're sort of a pain to balance on."

Louise slapped herself on the side of the head, because Jessica was starting to sound handsome again, and in a horrified voice asked, "Your feet became hooves?"

"Oh, you know how it is," Jessica said.

"I really don't," said Louise.

"Oh, you know. When I get really, really excited, my demonic side comes to the fore. It's an incubus. Which is male. Most decidedly male. Take my word for it, because I really don't want to come in here and show you. Although I could draw you a picture and push it under the door, if you really insist. Do you have a razor, by the way? I'll need to shave my goatee."

Louise's eyes widened. "That's quite alright!" she said as quickly as she could, and then mentally kicked herself. No, wait, didn't she want the devilishly handsome man to come in here and ravish her and… wait a moment. Drat it! It was a tricksy thing, that aura. She would have to be on her guard. "I think you should go find a room to calm down in," Louise said, "because I can't think clearly at the moment. And I need to get dressed."

"Yes, please do," Jessica begged. "I've had enough naked women throw themselves at me today, thank you very much."

"I'll find a room for her," Cattelya said. "Be back in a mo!"

There was a pause. "Also," Jessica added hesitantly. "Uh… your sister? Who just sprinted off?"

"What about her?" Louise said.

"You… uh, do know she's a… well, a vamp, right? You know? With the way she acts and all that? Especially around me?"

Louise rolled her eyes and sighed. And then she spat out a mouthful of foam which had snuck in with her sigh. "I had sort of worked that out, yes," she said. "It was probably the blood drinking which was the clue. Or maybe the fangs. Or the room temperature body." Well, it was the blood drinking, and it had taken her ten years to realise, Louise admitted to herself, but Jessica didn't need to hear that. "Don't worry; I'll tell her that I'll be so angry with her if she tries to drink your blood. Not that she's likely to try, anyway – she tries her very hardest to not be a monster."

There was a long pause. "Yeah, sure," Jessica said. "Just wanted to make sure you knew."

The overlady considered saying 'How stupid would you have to be to miss that?', but decided not to because it was all too likely that Cattleya would end up saying something like 'Louise only found out a week or so ago' and then it would be really embarrassing. So instead she said, "Okay. Well, I'm just in the bath at the moment because I had a rather messy alchemical accident, so…" she paused. Yes, she might as well get two birds with one stone here. "I actually wanted to commission something from you, for Silver Pentecost for Cattleya," she said. "She needs something to wear for… you know, armour and the like, but it needs to cover her face."

Jessica sounded cheerful when she said, "I can do that!"

"And the rest of her body. That's important too," Louise added.

"Oh, it's going to be fine! Trust me on this! Actually, I'll be showing what I already prepared as an idea for you to wear to the Cabal Awards! Trust me, you're going to love it!"

"How much flesh is exposed?" Louise asked warily.

"Trust me," Jessica said.

Louise did not feel particularly inclined to do so. No one who used the words 'Trust me' that much was trustworthy. But as it stood, she couldn't even find the exit, let alone her clothes, so she really couldn't do much to stop her.



Jessica's eyebrows fluted upwards at the sight of Cattleya's bedroom, and then she shook her head. "This is not what I expected from a vampire's bedroom," she said, warily. "I'd have thought there would be more… like, skulls and coffins and the like."

Cattleya took a seat on the bed, smoothing down her skirts. "Oh, that's a bit… gauche," she said. "And rather depressing, I would say! I mean, everyone knows what's inside someone's head underneath the flesh and meat and things like that but I don't think it's really in good taste to show it off like that!" She patted the bed next to her.

The hooved, horned, goateed Jessica chose to sit down on one of the plush chairs instead, crossing her legs in front of her. She was wearing strange trousers, almost like a man's, but covered in pockets, and a seemingly-buttonless black shirt, short in the sleeves, with mystical writing in some demonic tongue on it. The oddness of her garb was only added to by the way that she had apparently a longer-sleeved shirt in a dull red on under her outer shirt – ah, it was a surcoat, Cattleya supposed.

Jessica winced and rubbed her hooves, which were midway between that state and feet. "Okay, I think I'm calming down a bit," she said, "and ow, ow, it always aches like hell when they turn back."

"Oh, I quite understand," Cattleya said. "Turning back from a bat leaves me feeling all dizzy. And that's not a state it's helpful to be in when I'm trying put some clothes on."

"All right," Jessica said, steepling her fingers and staring at Cattleya, "let's talk clothes! So, actually, your sister wants me to make a set of armour slash sinister deeds of evil costume, but I'm going to start with what you'll be wearing to the Cabal Awards. Which is a chance for me to show off what I can do, and get my work on the journals. And," she looked Cattleya up and down, "… well, you certainly give me more to work with than Louise, poor girl."

"Yay!" Cattleya said happily. "So… what are you thinking? The face has to be covered, you know."

"Yes, your sister was clear about that," Jessica said, stroking her goatee. "I need a shave. But… hmm." She lowered her voice. "How do you feel about, you know… low cut dresses?"

"Oh, I'm a big fan of them," the other girl said, flashing a hint of fang. "I… I wanted to be presented at court, you know, but… well, that was never an option for me."

"Hmm," Jessica said, producing paper and a pencil from her many pockets. "So… something regal, perhaps. Maybe… I think it really has to… no, your sister would probably throw lightning bolts at me if I tried to do that one. Shame." She scrumpled it up, and threw it away. "Okay. Right. Basic principles. Style, sleek, predatory."

"I'd quite like to be able to run in it," Cattelya contributed. "Or… well. Um, it's more that things which tie my legs up get torn because I am rather strong and so if I can't move properly fabric just tears."

"So noted." Jessica sketched away. "Maybe a flared bit at the bottom. With… yes, concentric hoops to support it. Black, I think. Hmm. No, Black won't stand out, too many people wear black to these things. Maybe… yes. Layered greys. Traceries of… silver. No, maybe… yes! Steel, instead. High collar, trimmed in violet. In fact, maybe… no, all violet won't work with your hair colour! You're just as hard to work with there as Louise!"

"I'm sorry," Cattleya said humbly, biting her lip. She went to her bedside table, and pulled out her own sketchbook. "Would any of these help?" she asked.

Jessica's eyes lit up with a non-metaphorical inner fire. "Oh, I like!" she said. "They're watercolours, but… you have an eye for the flow of fabric! Who taught you?"

"Oh, our parents were very insistent we know how to draw and paint like proper young ladies," Cattleya said. "We had tutors. Well, I had tutors. Louise's one quit because… she's not very artistic. And also because she sort of blew up quite a bit of the orchard to try to avoid having to draw a tree."

"That one?" Jessica said, jabbing her finger at the watercolour of a woman in a black and silver robe trailing gauzy veils. "That's a perfect starting point. Certain elements from the Mystic East which is totally in this year, but you've clearly mixed it with the court fashions of Tristain… it's an interesting synthesis of thematic which subjugates the mysticism of other lands to the current neo-revivalism properties of modern regal styles!"

"I drew it because I thought it was pretty," Cattleya said brightly.

"Well… mind if I keep this for working materials?" Jessica asked. "Right. Well, the next thing we have to do is work on your mainstay clothes for dark and sinister activities."

Cattleya flopped back onto her bed. "I suppose… black? And a mask."

"No no no no! No! That's… honestly, that's so trite!" Jessica said, her voice rising. "You're a vampire! A queen of the night! The hunger that walks! The damned and screaming virgin, a walking metaphor of violation of the boundaries between right and wrong, life and death, and other such things!"

"Um," Cattleya said, raising a hand. "I think that's sort of hurtful to put it like…"

"You can't just walk around in a black dress and a mask! I'd lose all the respect I got for Louise's gorgeous new aesthetic if I let you do that!" Jessica snapped her fingers. "It's all about the story," she said, firmly. "Design-as-arete, design as excellence is fundamentally better in every way to designing things for mere functionality!" She sighted down her finger at Cattleya. "We want to be getting away from the Coptine elements in vampiric fashion; for one, you simply don't have the skin tone for it. It assumes a certain level of tan, which just means that too many among the living dead end up painting themselves orange." The dark-haired girl shuddered. "We certainly don't want that. And the whole asp theme? It's had its day! We need a revision!"

"Wolves?" Cattleya suggested. "I do like my puppies… oh, no, but it would be cruel to kill them and skin them. Maybe if one of them died of old age…"

"No, no, no." Jessica's tone was adamant. "You don't want be a vampire caught wearing wolf-fur. You'll get the protesters right over you, and they can turn into three metre tall wolf-men with a hair-trigger temper. Not worth it." She framed Cattleya with her thumbs and index fingers. "You have very much an hourglass noblewoman's build," she said, clinically, "so it's going to be completely different designing for you than it is for Louise."

"Hey!" the sinister sister of the overlady of dark malevolence protested, pouting.

"Look, I've done your sister's measurements and fitted her armour. I know these things. Louise needs things which enhances her figure and… well, makes her look like less of a sixteen year old girl and more of a figure of dark and dreadful feminine majesty. Cattleya, you're going to need something which simultaneously overtly conceals and subtly flaunts your curves. You're too curvy for the obvious choices to hang properly, your hips are going to make it a nightmare to get a close-fitting dress working, and if we're to reject the Coptine style… hmm. Are you sure you don't have any succubus in you? Maybe it's a vampire thing. I'm going to need sketches! And measurements!"

Perched on her plinth above the sea of bubbles, Louise glared at the morass which surrounded her island of tranquillity.

They weren't going away.

She frowned at them. It had no effect. Well, she could call for the minions, but as it stood, she had no clothes apart from the gauntlet and… no, she wasn't calling for the minions. Oh, and bubbles probably counted as water so she suspected strongly that they would drown in it. Even if it took them some thought to work out how to do it, they would manage it.

Well, she was just going to have to wait here until the bubbles went down.

Or… she could set them on fire. Or even better, explode the bubbles out of the way…



Things were not going well in the debate over vampiric fashion.

"Look, I am certainly not going to go outside the palette malificarum," Jessica said, firmly. "If you want something with all those bright colours on them, then you're going to have to go as an evil clown. Evil clowns are the only people who are allowed to mix such things together. Do you want to be an evil clown? Do you think that would be funny?"

"No," Cattleya conceded. "I think clowns are scary."

"Good, then don't try to get me to work such colours into things." Jessica took a deep breath. "That having been said – and don't try to talk me out of it when I say what I'm about to say – your complexion and hair is better suited for washed out colours. Hmm. Something ophelian? A drowned woman, betrayed by her lover, returned from beyond the grave… eternally hungry and bitter? Oh, I like that. That suggests an uxorian theme, which has the advantage of history while having been out of style long enough that it isn't passé to use it. Oh, that's very nice indeed."

Cattleya perked up. "I am single, you know," she said. "My parents broke off my marriage when this happened to me."

"Excellent! It weaves in hints of the truth! Everyone loves a good vampire tragedy! So…" Jessica's shadow flowed around her, pooling and hanging off her hands. Then she paused. "Oh shit!" she said, shifting uncomfortably and her hands going to the back of her neck. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Uh… what's the matter?" Cattleya asked, concern flashing over her face. "And… um, do you have to sw…"

"… my wings have got caught up in my breastband," the dark-haired girl admitted. "I just tried to unfold them so I could do demonic magic more easily and and…" she bit her lip, as she tried to adjust the back of her strange shirt, "… okay, got it," she said, the stubby bat-like shadowy wings unfolding from the slits in the back. "They're at a bloody inconvenient size; not big enough to support me, but still there. I thought my new design would fix that, but it's still catching! It's bloody annoying, and it's not like I'm going to use the succubus solution," she muttered. "I need the support."

"Oh, don't talk to me about transformation and clothes problems," Cattleya said cheerfully. "When I just go monster-y, it's fine, because that's mostly just my hands and face, but anything more than that? When I go tiny bat, owl or normal wolf, I get caught up in the dress and can't get things off because… well, no hands, and when I go giant bat or wolf, I just ruin clothes. Clothes don't track with you, and it's a pain!"

Jessica grinned. "Oh, I can solve that," she said. "That's an embuggerance for pretty much any shapeshifter, so I know a bunch of various tricks to solve it."

"You do?" Cattleya asked, happily. "Oh, that'd be wonderful! It'd mean I wouldn't have to basically take all my clothes off before transforming and I wouldn't have to get dressed afterwards!" She pouted. "According to the books, there are ways to learn how to take your clothes with you – or make clothes from blood or something like that – but I couldn't get any of them working and I didn't exactly have much room to practice back home because I sort of technically wasn't meant to be playing around with that sort of thing."

"Clothes from blood…" Jessica said, slowly. "Yes! That's it! Wonderful!" She leapt to her feet and raised her hands, her shadow rising up over her.

When the transformation was complete, it revealed a scarlet wedding dress, long and flowing and volumous. Carefully placed slits ensued ease of movement, while layers of gauzy crimson fabric meant that any flesh could only be seen as through a sanguine mist. The carefully designed veil left the girl's lips visible, but underneath it a skull-like ball mask concealed most of her features.

Cattleya squealed in joy, and leapt over to snatch Jessica up in hug. "It's gorgeous! And you managed to…" she sniffed, "… well, I've wanted to wear a wedding dress for a long time. My mother looks so pretty in her wedding painting! You can barely see that she's pregnant at all! And the red looks delicious!"

"… Karin of the Heavy Wind, already… never mind," Jessica said, interested despite herself. "And please let go, I need to breath." Gratefully, she took a breath, and then groaned. "Ah, but there's a problem with that kind of red," Jessica said, her face falling. "I'd love to use it, I really would. It's gorgeous. But it requires strange and hard to find alchemical reagents to make."

"Oh," Cattleya said, sadly. "But it's so pretty."

"I know! I really like it; my favourite t-shirt is that colour. I got that one from that trip Dad took me to Los Diablos. That's where we'll have to be going to get to Cabal Awards, because they're in Profaneglade."

"You have a shirt just for wearing when you drink tea? That's a really good idea! Well, I mean, I already sort of have one, but it's for blood, not tea, and that's because it's a pain to get blood of out things! But you should suggest it to Louise, who's always been a bit clumsy!"

Jessica blinked heavily, went to say something, and chose not to. "Man, I always keep on forgetting how strange surface culture can be," she said to herself. "But yeah, we have a problem. I really don't think we can get our hands on the ingredients before the deadline. I wonder if I could trick some heroes into finding it for me by sitting in the Charming Fairies wearing a dark hooded robe and talking about a super-important quest needed to stop something dreadful?" she said, mostly to herself.

"Maybe I can find it for you!" Cattelya said, enthusiastically. "After all, I am a vampire!" She smiled, and sidled closer to Jessica, who sidled away. "I'd love to get it for you," she said.

"It's a nice idea," Jessica said diplomatically, "but I don't think it would work. How can I get that much fresh unicorn blood for the dye?"

Cattleya grinned, showing rather too much fang. "I'm sure we could work something out," she said. "Trust me." And then she paused. "Louise," she said, mystified as she stared at the soot-blackened figure wrapped in a blackened towel. "Is that you?"

"Don't. Even. Ask," the dark and evil overlady of dark evilness commanded, stomping off to her room to seek out the old tub. "Minions! Clean up the bathroom! Don't drown! And put out the fires!"



Wrapped in midnight black fluffy dressing gown embroidered with demonic runes and skulls – there had been certain compromises in its design – Louise stalked her way to her sister's room. She adjusted the towel around her hair, and then let herself in, to find her sister and Jessica going over a thick book. On closer inspection, the book revealed itself to actually be a demonic journal, and the two were looking at pictures of clothing.

"So," asked Cattleya, raising her head, "what happened?"

She received a glowing-eyed glare in response. "I told you not to ask," Louise snapped.

"You smell of… well, it's kind of blood, but it's the worst, blandest, slightly sourest blood ever! And you also smell of Evil, explosions, and also Evil explosions. What on earth did you do?"

"Which bit about not asking didn't make sense?" Louise demanded, sulking. Even being wrapped up in her sister's cooling embrace did not remove the pout, especially when she saw the wrinkled nose. "There was an alchemical accident, all r-right! In fact, there were two of them!"

"See," Cattleya said, patting Louise's head, "that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Not my fault," Louise muttered. "Stupid Gnarl. And stupid bubbles."

Jessica coughed. "Much as I hate to break this up," she began.

"Have you calmed down fully?" Louise demanded of her.

"Well, mostly," Jessica admitted. "I still need to shave, but that's just something that happens. But still! I still need to do the organising stuff! Okay! Listen up! This is really, really important. Louise, you have one guest ticket, and I already assumed you'd want to give it to your sister!"

"Ahem," Gnarl said, stepping out from behind the door frame.

All three girls jumped. "How long were you there?" Louise demanded of him.

"I do believe as your loyal vizier and contact with the Abyss, I should be attending," Gnarl pointed out. "And I am an expert at mingling at these social events, and will be able to obtain many free titbits of information and also free drinks. It'll be a nice occasion to get the old suit out of the wardrobe."

Louise glared at him. He stared back calmly. He was right, curse him. He would be more useful to her than Cattleya would… and Cattleya would also be safer back at the tower, and wouldn't risk giving away her identity or anything like that.

Jessica sucked in a breath. "Well… I don't think my Dad will want to go, because he's still persona non gratis among certain circles," she admitted, "so… if he isn't going, I guess you can come as my guest if you're going to be showing off one of my designs. Don't get any funny ideas," she warned Cattleya.

"Yes," Louise agreed, "Catt, you are expressly forbidden from trying to drink Jessica's blood! I mean it!" This show of authority was slightly ruined by the squeal of 'So cute!' it produced in her sister.

"Thank you," Jessica said diplomatically. "You really aren't going to see anything of me because we have to be in Los Diablos by the start of the Silver Pentagram… I mean, Pentecost, so I'm going to basically have to be up all the time to get everything finished. But I'll meet you here, before I summon the portal there. Louise, the thing I have designed for you is basically an armoured skirt for your armour. It'll slow you down a bit, but it's more protective and it should be something impressive for the journals. And yes, you are still wearing the normal armour under it."

Louise blinked. That was… actually fairly sensible. "Okay," she said.

"Well… okay. Since hell has frozen over, you should pack something warm," Jessica continued.

"Wait," Louise said. "Hell is frozen over? Isn't that a bad... a good... a strange-things-are-happening sign? Like... is something weird going on?"

Jessica stared at Louise, eyes narrowed. "... are you being serious?" she asked.

Louise blinked. "I thought I was," she said.

"Of course hell is frozen over," Jessica said. "It's winter. That's how you know it's winter. It gets cold."

"... but it was all hot and smoky last time I visited the Abyss," Louise protested.

"Of course it was. That was be-cause it was what we tech-nic-ally call sum-mer," Jessica said, talking slowly as if explaining something to a slow child. "In win-ter it is cold. But still smoke-y."

"You can stop talking like that, you know," Louise snapped. "I didn't get a-any exposure to... to books on the climate of the Abyss or anything growing up, okay!"

Cattleya did. "I did!" she said. "It was in one of Father's books on preparing raids into the Abyss and the need to wrap up warm if you're going in the winter months! And also how you have to beware the blue flames which burn cold!"

"Oh yes, that's a good point," Jessica said. "Things that protect you from hotfire won't help you against coldfire. They're different. So... like, tell your red minions not to think they won't die if they go in it."

"Yessss," Cattleya said, grinning, pumping her fist. "Fire that isn't burny fire! I'm not weak against that! Ah ha ha ha ha!" She coughed, in an embarrassed manner. "I'm so dreadfully sorry," she apologised. "That was undignified. But still, do you know a way to trap it? I haven't managed to get magelights set up and so there's open fires in far, far too many places in this tower for my personal comfort! It's really scary! And I'm thinking some nice blue coldfire would set off our skin tones nicely, little sis."

"We're getting off topic, Catt," Louise said warningly.

Jessica stared at something on her wrist. "And oh my dark gods, I was meant to be meeting my supplier for demonic iron five minutes ago, I really do have to dash. Louise, it was lovely to see you again, and Cattleya, it was… interesting. See you soon! Make sure you're ready for the awards! I mean it! Really!" And with that said, she darted out.

"I will see her out," Gnarl said, following the departing half-demon and leaving the two sisters alone.

"I like her," Cattleya said. "She's cute, especially when she's not being all male-demony. And adorably manic, even if she is a little strange. But I suppose with the family background she mentioned, and how her mother left her, it's natural for her to not be normal. She doesn't have the advantage of a stable family background, like us."

Louise glanced at Cattleya. "Was that supposed to be a joke?" she asked her sister.

"I beg your pardon?"