Chapter 15

My alarm bells should have rung.

But no, I had to once again prove I was a dumb bunny.

I should've known. The moment Arwick said "formal wear," I should've started running. But instead, I had once again gone and forgotten something important.

Valya Moonbreeze, spellslinger and explorer of Nexus wasn't only who I was.

I was also Valya Moonbreeze, Dancer for the Mothertree, former treeporn star, and official "pet" of Queen Myala Everstar. A.K.A… The White Rabbit.

To most of the Aurin on Nexus, I was the closest thing to a cultural icon they still had. A living reminder of Aurin Art and Culture.

And Myala, Yaenna, and Arwick weren't going to pass up a chance to inspire our fellow Aurin.

So, there I was, standing in the wings, waiting for my name to be called—not in an FCON dress uniform.

Oh no.

I was wearing the ceremonial silks I used to dance in before the Mother Tree.

The halter top clung tight, sheer enough that my nipples might as well have had their own stage lighting.

And the loincloth? Narrow enough to be suggestive on a good day—utterly scandalous under the wrong lighting.

Which, knowing my luck, this ceremony definitely had.

That wasn't really the problem—hell, half the damn planet had seen me naked by now. I understood that Myala was presenting me as the White Rabbit, full celebrity persona on display.

No, the actual problem was explaining to Drusera that "formalwear" didn't usually mean "strategically translucent."

She'd made her robes completely sheer to match mine and was absolutely thrilled about it. Like a kid playing dress-up—with divine powers and no concept of modesty.

Yes, my sweet, adorable goddess—currently bobbing over my shoulder in "real" mode— was about to be introduced to the entire Exile Alliance in flagrante delecto.

I wasn't sure whether to be mortified, proud, or just accept that this was my life now.

It wasn't like Drusera had actually developed a sense of shame yet. She wore her robes mostly because she always had. They were part of her self-image, not modesty.

And now she was floating beside me like an ethereal pin-up, blissfully unaware of the cultural earthquake she was about to cause.

To be fair—Most Aurin would probably just shake their heads and think "that's so like Val." And… they'd be right.

But I wasn't sure how the Granok ambassador or the humans in the front row were going to take it when a glowing, giggling goddess in see-through robes twined tails with me on stage.

Myala?

Myala would laugh herself sick.

She was probably already laughing herself sick.

In fact, she'd probably spent the last week planning this with Arwick and Yaenna, placing bets on how long it would take me to realize I wasn't just getting a medal—I was making a statement. A scandalous, dazzling, tail-twirling statement of pure Aurinity.

And judging by the faint wheezing sound coming from backstage?

Yeah. She was definitely already laughing.

Then, the announcement came.

"And for an Award for Meritorious Service, Explorer Valya Moonbreeze."

The curtain parted, the spotlight flared, and I stepped forward into the sudden hush of the crowd.

Dozens of diplomats, officers, and civilians stared back at me—some blinking in confusion, others struggling not to gape.

Because I wasn't wearing a uniform.

No. I was shimmering in transparent silk, channeling every inch of the White Rabbit.

A few gasps. A few choked laughs.

And then, applause—because of course the Aurin in the crowd knew exactly who I was. And they approved.

I swear I saw one Granok mutter 'Bless the trees' and toast us with his drink in reverence

Floating at my side, glowing faintly, was my sweet goddess—draped in sheer robes of light, looking like a dream and completely unaware she was scandalizing half the military leadership.

I heard a faint, muffled snort from the side stage.

Myala.

She was laughing herself sick.

I walked across the stage with complete aplomb, hips swaying just enough to let the silks do what silks did best. The presenting officer—bless his soul—had probably been thoroughly briefed by Arwick, because he was maintaining eye contact with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb. Not once did his gaze drift downward, despite the sheer fabric, the exposed belly, my probably plainly visible flower, or the haloed goddess floating beside me.

Drusera, to her credit, looked positively radiant. She bobbed beside me with the serene dignity of a divine consort and none of the awareness that her robes were committing multiple violations of Exile military decorum. Her circuits pulsed gently with each wave of applause, her eyes sparkling with pride.

The officer cleared his throat. "In recognition of your outstanding service, creative solutions, and contributions to interspecies diplomacy and morale…" He held out the small crystalline badge.

"…I present you the Meritorious Service Medal."

I took it with a smile that belonged in a scandal newsvid and turned to the audience as the applause swelled again.

Somewhere in the front row, a Granok snorted beer out his nose. I was definately now fully exposed by the spotlights.

Victory. It took all I had not to throw up my hands in "V's"

Drusera beamed as she clapped vigorously, looking like the proudest bunny-eared goddess in the galaxy. Her circuits glowed bright enough to give off a halo.

The officer, clearly wishing he were anywhere else in the universe, cleared his throat again, holding up a second medal.

"In addition, it is my proud duty to announce Miss Moonbreeze's appointment as official Contact for Lady Drusera, the Genesis Prime."

There was a collective murmur through the audience. Several datapads could be heard clattering to the floor. I caught sight of Victor Lazarian in the crowd, turning a shade of gray usually reserved for storm clouds and lab disasters.

I smiled and gave the crowd a little wave, which made Drusera squeal with delight. She floated forward and took my hand in both of hers, tail twining around mine with visible pride.

"I am so very proud of you," she whispered, entirely too loud for a whisper.

More murmurs. A camera drone zoomed in.

Yup. Definitely going to be the front page of every Exile feed by sundown.

Somewhere backstage, Myala was almost certainly choking on her laughter.

If I listened closely, I was pretty sure I could hear her wheezing through the comms. Arwick, too, was probably pinching the bridge of his nose hard enough to leave a dent in his skull.

"You owe me for this, Myala!" I muttered under my breath, smile fixed, hips swaying in exactly the way that had once gotten me banned from half the villages on Arboria.

Drusera, bless her, didn't understand any of the subtext. She was glowing. Literally. Her sheer robes shimmered like starlight, and the adoration in her eyes was so genuine it almost made me forget how much I was to scandalizing the entire Exile command structure.

Almost.

Then she leaned in close and whispered, "Should I twine tails with the officer to show unity?"

I choked.

"Absolutely not. He doesn't even have a tail to twine." I whispered back.

"Oh, you are right. Humans lack tails."

She said it so matter-of-factly, with the kind of soft-spoken earnestness that made it somehow even funnier. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from giggling like a madwoman.

"Very few of the other races do, dear," I murmured, keeping my smile polite for the benefit of the still-awkwardly-standing officer. "Tail twining is an Aurin thing."

Drusera nodded thoughtfully, then whispered again, "I shall reserve tail twining for family, then."

I nodded, proud of her grasp of etiquette—and very relieved she hadn't tried to twine tails with the Mordesh tech the other day. That might've caused an international incident. Or at least a sexual harassment charge.

The officer, finally recovering, handed me the second medal and posed stiffly for the holo-op. I accepted it with the grace of someone who'd once performed a full aerial ribbon routine while covered in nothing but body paint.

As the flash went off and applause started, I caught Drusera beaming beside me, utterly delighted.

Well… if nothing else, the Exile brass was definitely not going to forget this ceremony.

Of course there was a banquet. Because when you're the White Rabbit, dumb bunny luck doesn't stop at public scandal and accidental goddess fashion statements—it escalates.

And the moment I walked into that banquet hall, still in silks that had no business being anywhere near catered shrimp and diplomatic handshakes, I just knew someone had done this on purpose.

Probably Myala.

Definitely Yaenna.

Arwick? Complicit by silence.

Drusera, glowing like the embodiment of a soft-focus daydream, bobbed beside me with her hand in mine and absolutely no clue why the entire room kept doing double-takes.

Maybe if I kill Myala, Drusera can resurrect her?

That thought must've shown on my face, because Drusera leaned over and whispered with a worried tone, "Are you considering violence, beloved?"

I gave her a pained smile. "Just a little bit. Theatrical violence. Maybe a slap with a wet noodle."

She blinked. "Would that be sufficient to convey displeasure?"

"I'll let you know after I try it."

The room had that unbearable mix of military formality and awkward small talk. Someone from the Diplomatic Corps tried very hard not to look directly at either of us, while a Granok officer saluted both me and Drusera like he wasn't sure which of us outranked him—or which of us was about to vaporize him for looking at our sheer outfits.

Drusera leaned closer again, whispering, "Am I dressed appropriately for a banquet?"

I sighed. "You look like the forbidden dream of every person in this room, sweetheart."

She looked delighted. ""Oh good. I wanted to make a favorable impression. Should I glow brighter?"

"You made a wonderful impression, dear." I muttered.

Then I spotted Yaenna across the room, sipping something suspiciously sparkling and looking far too pleased with herself.

"Oh, she definitely planned this."

Drusera tilted her head. "Should we thank her?"

"Drusera, if I don't walk over there and strangle her with my tail, it will be a miracle."

"Did she do something wrong?"

"Not exactly. She just played a joke on me."

Drusera blinked, clearly puzzled. "But… I thought jokes were supposed to be funny."

"They are," I said, deadpan. "Usually to the person pulling them."

Drusera pondered that for a second, then nodded sagely. "So, this was... for Myala's amusement?"

"Entirely."

She gave a long, thoughtful look at the entrance. "Should I play a joke on her in return?"

I choked on my drink.

"Oh no, sweetheart. That's how Aurin civil wars start."

Drusera looked slightly disappointed. "Oh. But I had a very good idea involving recursive time loops and her favorite tea."

I coughed. "Let's… maybe not weaponize causality over tea. Yet."

She nodded with the utmost seriousness. "I shall wait until I have a better understanding of comedic timing."

I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or deeply worried. How would I ever explain Aurin humor to her?

Drusera tilted her head at me, studying my expression like I was some kind of quantum puzzle she just couldn't quite solve.

"Aurin humor appears to involve misdirection, emotional extremes, and frequent embarrassment," she said, perfectly serious. "Is that correct?"

"Uh… that's… not wrong," I admitted. "But it's also about playfulness. Lighthearted chaos. Surprise. Sometimes we make fun of each other to show we care."

She blinked. "So Myala dressed you scandalously in public because she loves you?" "…Yes." So, she had finally figured it out.

"And you let her… live?"

"It was a close thing."

Drusera considered that gravely, then gave a very slow nod, like she'd just discovered some core tenet of Aurin philosophy.

"I will remember this," she said.

"Oh no."

She blinked innocently. "Is this not what family does… Engage in escalating acts of mutual embarrassment as proof of affection?"

"Only if they want to risk getting their ears bitten."

She touched one of her ears thoughtfully, then gave me the most mischievous smile I'd ever seen on her—an expression that said, chaos acquired, executing plan.

"Drusera…"

"Yes, Valya?"

"Please don't weaponize love-based public humiliation."

"No promises."

Mother Tree help me, she was learning sarcasm.

And then, as if summoned by sheer comedic timing, Myala swept into the banquet hall in full queenly regalia, looking far too pleased with herself and just innocent enough to avoid formal charges.

Drusera lit up. "Queen Myala! I now understand your actions!"

Myala's ears perked. "Oh?"

"You humiliated Valya because you love her. I find this behavior acceptable. And perhaps… inspirational."

Myala locked eyes with me. "Oh dear. What have you taught her now?"

"Absolutely nothing. I'm a pure, blameless victim in this."

Myala's grin turned feral. "Good luck with that."

Drusera looked between us, her circuits glowing merrily.

"I am beginning to see the appeal of this 'Aurin humor.'" Drusera leaned close, eyes gleaming with revelation.

"So… next time, I get to humiliate you?"

"Sweetheart," I groaned, "you already do. Constantly." She beamed.

I was so, so doomed.

Fortunately, Drusera's first attempt at humor was relatively harmless. She changed someone's wine into water and then looked immensely pleased with herself.

"Is this not the reverse of a miracle?" she whispered to me.

"It is," I said, watching the confused diplomat swirl his suddenly non-alcoholic drink.

"Then it is irony. That is funny, yes?"

I couldn't argue with that logic. Chaos Bunny had competition now.

"You realize that was probably the last bottle of Cassian red on the planet, Bunny?"

I turned. Blok stood there, looking monumentally uncomfortable in his dress greys—like someone had put a tuxedo on a war golem and expected him to smile.

I snickered. Drusera looked proud. "Then I have made history. That is funny, yes?"

Blok snorted. "It sure the heck is."

I nodded toward the new rank patch on his sleeve. "I see you made Sergeant."

"Yeah. Courtesy of the Dominion siege in Galeras."

"Grats."

"You too. I take it your get-up is Myala's doing?"

"Of course it is," I said, flipping a bit of sheer silk for emphasis.

Blok gave me a look. The kind only someone who'd been around me too long could give.

"You know you're both showing everything. Right?"

"Yup." I popped the 'p' with a grin.

He sighed like a man reconsidering every life choice that led to this moment.

"Exile command's gonna need a week to recover."

"I'm just doing my part for morale."

"Morale? You nearly caused a diplomatic incident."

"Correction: I nearly caused an inspirational diplomatic incident."

Drusera leaned forward helpfully. "I was told that 'scandal plus sincerity' is very Aurin."

Blok blinked. "I don't even know what that means."

"It means she's learning," I said, patting Drusera's hand.

I then gave him a huge grin. "And you should be afraid."

He gave me one of those looks again. "So... tail etiquette. That ever gonna be a thing I gotta worry about?"

Drusera tilted her head. "Do Granok have tails?"

Blok blinked. "...No?"

"Then no etiquette required." She smiled beatifically. "But if you ever grow one, let me know."

Blok gave me one last suffering glance and walked off muttering, "I liked it better when she was just floating around being mysterious…"

Blok's retreating back and muttered complaints were the perfect cherry on top.

I giggled. "Okay, I feel better now."

Drusera looked at me with the serene calm of someone who had just committed petty alchemy and thoroughly enjoyed it. "Humor is... satisfying."

"That's how it gets you," I said, nudging her gently. "One prank and suddenly you're plotting practical jokes with time loops and sabotaging tea."

"I still think it would have been funny."

I gave her a look. "You would've broken causality and Myala's favorite mug."

Drusera smiled innocently. "Then she would have two reasons to remember me."

I burst out laughing again. "Oh no. You're learning sass now. We're doomed."

She twined her tail around mine and whispered, "Together."

"Yup." I squeezed her hand. "Together. Dumb Bunny and Chaos Goddess."

After the banquet, Myala and Yaenna apologized…

…with a foursome.

Not that I was all that mad—But I accepted the apology anyway.

Apparently, "sorry" now came with tail twining, silk sheets, the Queen's personal stash of berry wine…

…and three very delicious flowers.

Dumb Bunny Luck for the win.