Squinting into the mirror, Stiles gingerly touched the swell on his cheek. The skin was red and irritated, swollen to almost twice the size of his other cheek. It made his face look ridiculous. Whenever his finger grazed the skin, he hissed and flinched, but he kept doing it anyway, trying to feel out the edge of the main damage.

"Stop hurting yourself," a female voice called from his door. "Didn't Kate hurt you enough for one day's worth of pain?"

Without turning, Stiles obeyed her, dropping his hands to his lap and closing the tiny mirror. "I can't help it, Allison. She made me look like an idiot. My face is too weird to be shown in public. I'm going to be a recluse for the rest of my life!"

Allison snorted and walked the short distance between them. Sitting beside him, she held a cool bag against his injured cheek. "You don't look so bad as that. Here. Hold this against it and it'll bring the swelling down."

"I think I've been hurt enough to know basic after care," Stiles argued, but he took over holding the bag anyway.

"And yet you didn't go get anything cold on your own." Allison sat back on the bed and sighed. "What did you do to make her angry this time?"

Stiles shifted until he could rest his temple on Allison's shoulder. It tugged a little on his cheek, but he endured the minor discomfort for the intimacy. "I wrote a letter to Derek Hale that said 'you're probably single'. She's trying to flirt with him and apparently I'm trying to sabotage her. I told her I was trying to be coy in the letter. If we were too direct, he might bolt, you know? She hasn't seen him in ten years. What did she want me to do, confess love and propose marriage? I mean eventually she agreed with me, but she smacked me again anyway for raising my voice at her. There is something deeply wrong with your aunt. I'm sorry, Allison, but there is."

She laughed. "You think I don't know that? There's a reason my father doesn't attend parties with her. It's too stressful. No matter what she's doing, a dozen people will come up to us and make comments about it."

Stiles hadn't been to many parties lately. He wasn't a rich gentleman like Chris Argent, Allison's father, and no one ever sent invitations to a scribe. Early in his employment, he'd tagged along with Allison to an open event and was barraged by the same nosey people who complain about Kate. They wanted to know about Stiles' father, about his estate, about his job. It was suffocating, and Allison had graciously attended him home long before the party ended. Even early in their acquaintance, Allison had been a true friend.

"I wish there was something more I could do about your situation," Allison remarked with a sigh, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "I hate that she can do things to hurt you and get away with it. You're nearly one of us."

"Was," Stiles corrected. "I haven't been a gentleman in years. And if your aunt has anything to say about it, I'll never be a respectable gentleman again. It's probably too late already. I'm sure no one talks about my family in positive terms anymore."

Allison took a moment to think, pursing her lips, before she frowned. "I don't think people talk about your family at all anymore. You were a popular subject for a year or so but it's all died off now. I think you could even attend a party and not have a repeat of last time. Speaking of, you should come to the play tomorrow night. Even if your face is still swollen, it'll be too dark for most people to notice!"

Her excitement was endearing, but he still declined. It had been a long, long time since plays and parties had been places he was welcome at.

The letter from Derek Hale arrived two mornings after Stiles had posted the original. An under-butler delivered it to Stiles while he was in the midst of assisting a gardener with the firewood. By assisting, Stiles mostly meant keeping the other guy's spirits up. The gardener groaned about being tired after a few logs and Stiles cheered him on to boost his spirits.

"Think of all the suitors you'll have when they see your impressive, muscular arms, though," he'd say. The gardener would laugh and be ready to swing again. Stiles did get in a few whacks of his own, of course, but he'd barely begun to sweat when the under-butler found him.

He accepted the missive and sent the butler on his way. He really hoped the letter contained a good response, because he didn't want to imagine the punishment he'd receive if Mr. Hale had answered 'do not attempt to contact me with your silly flirtations ever again'. Worse yet, what if his response said he was engaged? That certainly didn't fit into Kate's plans for wooing him. Stiles touched his still tender cheek, which had begun to ache in response to his thoughts.

Stiles waved a servant over and tasked the man with finding Kate, mostly so he wouldn't have to go find her himself. He'd meet her in the sitting room. If she took her usual time, he'd have enough time to read the letter by himself. If it was bad, it was possible he could lie about the contents. Or, if given enough time, he could write a new one. She'd never have to know… right?

Shoulders tense, Stiles entered the sitting room, crossed to the desk, and snatched up the letter opener. He could feel his heart in his throat and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. There had to be a bright side, some hope. Kate had said Derek wasn't the brightest man. Perhaps he'd fall for her charms, albeit ones written by Stiles. Perhaps he'd truly fawn over her like he used to. Yes, everything would be fine.

He slid the letter opener through the seal and set it back down. It was the moment of truth.

'Lady Argent,' it began. Ouch. No first name basis, then. Maybe he wasn't as dumb as Kate hoped. Ten years was a lot of time to grow up in, after all.

The door to the study burst open, and Kate arrived in a flurry of untailored skirts. Pins were still sticking in the fabric, and the tailor trailed behind her, flustered and anxious. It was clearly a ball gown, though perhaps a bit more flashy than any Stiles had ever seen. Unhemmed and untailored as it was now, it swam on Kate's strong form and looked rather awful. Stiles barely kept his comments to himself, but self-preservation was a learned skill.

"Well?" Kate demanded after a minute of them just staring at each other. She motioned furiously to the letter in Stiles' hand. "Has sweating made you dumb as well as a fool? Don't stand there like an idiot, Stilinski. What did he write?"

"Oh. Right." Stiles looked back down at the paper. He hadn't gotten past the greeting. Damn. He should have read it while he walked.

Clearing his throat, Stiles read aloud.

'Lady Argent,

Forgive my lack of pretty words. My family is currently without a scribe. Your own did an admirable job.

I was surprised by your letter. As you recounted, it has been a long nine years since we last saw one another. I thought we ended on a sour note, but it appears I was wrong. I cannot fit all of the goings on of my family for nine years into a single letter, so a summary will have to suit you.

My eldest sister, Laura, is lately married. My younger sister, Cora, is in training to be a huntress for the Duchess. My Uncle Peter is in town, making use of his degree in law. My brother Peter is soon to join him and hopes to become a righteous lawyer despite our uncle's influence. My mother and father both still reside at home and are in perfect health. I will not bore you with details about my father's work in managing the counties. I remember your disinterest in mundane affairs.

As to your query about my relationships, I am not currently attached. However, I decline your assistance in this matter. I am not interested in romance at the moment. Learning my father's business requires all my efforts.

Sincerely, Lord Derek Hale'

When he finished, Stiles frowned. Although it had answered all of Kate's, or rather Stiles', questions, the letter itself was bland and cold. The answers were succinct. The information given was almost clerical. But the worst part of all was in the first paragraph.

'Your scribe did an admirable job.'

Admirable? That's it? Stiles had made Katherine Argent sound like a decent, caring human being, and Derek Hale had the gall to call that simply 'admirable'? It was amazing, is what it was! Derek should have said 'brilliant' or 'fantastic' or 'magnificent', but certainly not 'admirable'!

When Kate laughed, it startled Stiles out of his affront. He'd almost forgotten he wasn't alone.

"He's a terrible conversationalist, as always. But this is good. I'm not after him for his witty rapport, anyway. The important thing is you didn't run him off with your stupid question about his relationship status." She turned and took a few steps in her normal pacing before remembering her tailor was working on her and standing still again. The poor tailor let out a whine of frustration but said nothing.

"And your reply?" Stiles asked, trying to move her beyond complaining about him. He hated how she ragged on him for weeks about any minor thing she considered a slip up. She was relentless.

"Well of course you need to pen the reply immediately. We need to go for innocence. Dissuade him from thinking I'm interested only in his relationships. I may be trying to flirt, but I can do it with more style. I'm not throwing myself at his feet for him to trample on. I'm going to be the one making him beg, not the other way around." She paused, realized she was on a tangent, and shook her head. "Tell him about my family. Remind him how strong the Argents are, how desirable a connection with us would be. Oh! Mention the grounds. Invite him to take a walk in our park. It may not be as grand as his estate, but the Argents will not be shamed by comparisons of size. Understand?"

"Oh absolutely," Stiles answered, voice full of sarcasm. His sass was either missed or ignored, either of which he accepted.

Without warning the tailor, Kate moved for the door again. A pin in the tailor's hand snagged when she jerked and tore an inch of the fabric. With an affronted sound, Kate glared down at the rip. "You better be able to fix that in time," she warned. Stiles felt his own expression turning into a glare, but his was aimed at Kate. She looked up at him, matching his hard stare for a long moment. Then she smirked, flaunting that she had the power. "Write the letter, Stiles. I want it done by the time I'm out of this monstrosity. Then you'll post it before dinner. Or else you won't have dinner."

Then she was gone, flustered tailor and all.

Stiles glared at the closed door for another moment before grumbling and flopping ungracefully into the desk chair. His father would have balked at the sight of his posture, but at that moment, Stiles was more upset at Kate than worried what his father would think. How dare she threaten the tailor for her own blunder? God, Stiles wished he could put her in her place.

In one hand he held Derek Hale's letter. In the other, the envelope. Without thinking, he crunched the envelope. Narrowing his eyes, he stared down at the pale paper. It hadn't felt normal when he'd clenched it. Carefully, he set the letter aside and smoothed the envelope back to its normal shape. There seemed to be something else inside.

It was… another letter? This one was folded thinner, so it would purposely get stuck in the bottom of the envelope and not pull out with the main letter. Curious, Stiles unfolded it and read.

'To the scribe,

I commend you for you pretty words. The Katherine Argent I knew in my youth could never have penned anything as human and sweet as you have produced. If I know Kate as well as I think I do, she won't open my letter herself, so she won't see this note to you. I also know that Katherine Argent doesn't do anything without a motive. I know I cannot trust her, but I am hoping I may trust you know her plans, please write and tell me what they are.

Derek Hale'

Well.

He'd said 'pretty'… and 'sweet'. That was better than 'admirable', at least.

Maybe Derek Hale wasn't so bad after all. Plus he knew Kate was a lying bitch, so he had that going for him as well.

Smiling just a little, Stiles pulled out his paper and quill. He was going to write two letters this time.

Lord Derek Hale,

I am Katherine Argent's scribe. You're welcome for the human form of my lady. Honestly, sifting through the endless information she gives me to find a few good lines to write for her is, indeed, a trial. But I endure the job, at least so much as any man can. I apologize for her sudden reappearance in your life. Apparently she's decided recently to woo you. I don't know why, but if I discover her deeper plans, I'll write to you straight away. You have my word.

Stiles