"Sorry about all that," Talla says once her mother has left. "She means well, but Mother always puts the family first."

"It's okay," I sigh. "Honestly, that went better than I expected. I was just surprised to learn that I was brought to this world on purpose."

"By the church, no less," Maggie points out. "I fucking knew they were up to something."

"You don't know anything," Evie argues. "Even if what Lady Goa said is true, one cult of heretics doesn't represent the entire church!"

I rub my temples and groan, but I don't have the wherewithal to stop them from fighting right now.

"It was a surprise to me, too," Talla says, frowning. "I'll have to talk to Faarah to see if there's anything we can do. The Gaa family is pretty entrenched, though, and if the inquisition is involved..."

She trails off, sighing. It sounds like a difficult situation, but we have our own problems to worry about right now.

"Who is Faarah?" I ask. "Your mom mentioned her too."

"The head of the Rangers," Talla explains. "And one of the strongest warriors in the entire empire. She's a good person, but really strict. Draga and I originally wanted to keep your involvement in our mission a secret, but it sounds like that's not an option anymore. Sorry we've made such a mess of things."

I shake my head. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm really grateful for all the help you've given us."

"What do you want to do now?" Talla asks.

"Nothing," I say with a shrug. "Your mother gave us time to think about her offer, and I plan on taking that time."

If nothing else, those papers sound incredibly valuable. I don't know what if any concept Fa'aun have of human rights—or, uh...sentient rights? But it would be nice to at least be recognized by the authorities if there's ever another incident like what happened in Sagaasi.

While I'm mulling those thoughts over, someone pokes their horns into the courtyard.

"Hey Tal! Barely home for ten minutes and you already sicced the little ones on Kel? She's gonna—" The girl freezes as she spots me. "Oh! Uh, am I interrupting?"

Talla shakes her head. "Not at all Rara, come join us if you like. We're just having lunch."

"Oooh!" The girl skips over excitedly, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the food. "Oh nice! Mom put out the good stuff!"

'Rara' is obviously younger than Talla, and the way she used the name makes me think that it's a nickname or pet name of some sort. She's shorter than Talla, and a bit more plump, with their clan's iconic white fur. Her hair is cropped down to about chin length, with a streak of neon pink dyed into it—the first time I've seen someone with dyed hair here.

Her clothes are high quality silks in the same white, brown, and red that her family seems to favor, but more revealing than most of the nobles we've met. Not that it matters much when she's got fur, but her skirt is a lot shorter than Talla's, and she does away with the typical cloak in favor of exposing her shoulders.

Actually, her shirt is a lot like mine—not the one I'm wearing now, but the off-shoulder piece I woke up in back at the convergence point.

Unlike Talla and Lady Goa, she doesn't hold back, immediately tucking in to the food.

"Have you tried the satsi?" she asks me through a mouthful of food. "Mom never lets me have this much of it—says it'll make me fat."

"That's because it will, you glutton," Talla sighs, snatching a cup out of Rara's hand before the girl can pour herself some of the familiar liquor that pairs so well with the sauce. "And none of that for you! It's still midday and you're far too young."

"Oh, eat a dick Tal, you tattler!" the young girl sneers in a remarkable convergence of cross-cultural insults. "I'm not a kid anymore! So are you gonna make me introduce myself?"

Talla sighs and gestures across the table. "Tara Goa Baanu, my oldest younger sister."

"Why do you introduce me like that, you weirdo?" Tara groans.

"Because you hate it when I call you my 'baby sister,' remember?" Talla replies with a smug grin. "Rara, this is Maev, a friend I met during my travels who will be staying here as a guest."

"Nice to meet you," I say with my second best imitation of a duck-nod, copying their bow without straining my neck. "I like your hair!"

Her face lights up at the compliment. "Thank you! I hate yours—it's a nice color, but did you cut it yourself?"

The jab catches me off-guard, but there's no malice in it. She's just being bluntly honest.

"Yes," I admit. "With a knife."

I gesture to the blade at my hip and she cringes.

"Oof, yeah I can tell. Don't worry, though, I know a guy who can fix anything—even a disaster like that! I'll introduce you!"

"Thanks?" I hedge. "So...Talla and Tara? Really?"

Tara giggles and shakes her head. "I guess grandma wasn't too good with names. That's why I just have my friends call me Rara instead."

I cast a sidelong glance at Talla. "And your friends call you Tal?"

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"No," she deadpans in reply. "Only my enemies."

Tara chokes on her food, nearly snorting a mouthful of satsi before recovering with only a minor coughing fit. "You bitch! What she means is that only I call her that."

"I see," I chuckle. "So may I call you Rara, then?"

She cocks her head and looks me over with a critical eye. "I don't see why not. Tal vouches for you, you're cute, and your taste in fashion is..." she looks me up and down again. "Not completely hopeless. So sure!"

I did my best with what I had, but these clothes aren't really mine, so I'm not too insulted. The word she used for "cute" in Fa'aun actually means something like "small and adorable" and usually gets applied to animals, though. Whatever, she means well.

"Thanks. In that case, please call me Allie."

Rara furrows her brow. "Allie? How do you get that from Maev?"

"It's a long story—I'll explain it later."

"Alright, well—oh! Wow, I just leveled."

Talla rolls her eyes. "Rara, did you come here for a reason, or did you just want to gorge yourself on satsi?"

"Hm? Yeah," her sister replies. "Mom told me to come win over our guest. I guess she really likes you."

"Wait, what?!" I gasp. We've barely been friends for a few seconds but I feel oddly betrayed to learn that it was on false pretenses.

Rara chuckles and waves me off. "Don't worry, my class doesn't work the way mom thinks it does, and even if it did I don't let her decide who my friends are. But it sounded interesting so I did want to meet you."

"Her class is an advanced version of something like your [Social Butterfly]," Talla adds. "Our family usually tries to emphasize education and practical classes, but despite that we still get the occasional socialite like her."

"Hey, don't say that like it's a bad thing," her sister protests. "Do you have any idea how much mom relies on my connections?"

"More like she makes use of any resource she has."

"Same thing!" Rara argues. "Anyway, Allie, I don't make friends for the benefit of the family, I make friends for my own benefit and let the family make use of those connections so that my mom won't yell at me about getting a real job."

I blink. "That's...honest."

"Can't base a good friendship on lies!" she says with a grin. "Most of my peers are more interested in business connections than actual friendships, but that's boring."

"Huh, I can respect that. It sounds like you've put a lot of thought into it."

"Duh! It's my core class!" she says. "My whole life! I literally live for this stuff."

"Fair enough," I reply with a nod. "Most of my classes have been about not dying."

She starts to laugh, then comes up short when Talla and I don't join her.

"Oh, blood and acid, you're serious?" she asks. "That's so sad! Well, if you ever need anything, just tell me. Not to brag, but I'm the best at what I do!"

"Because nobody else does it," Talla quips.

"Exactly!"

I chuckle. "What exactly do you do? Other than making friends, I guess."

"The only thing I love more than meeting new people is bringing them together," Rara explains. "Most of my fellow socialites are limited to high society, but not me! I specialize in finding rare and unusual talents—hidden gems like my hairdresser!"

She indicates her nicely styled hair, and the artful pink streaks.

"Most of my friends won't even give him a chance, no matter how jealous they are."

"I'm surprised mother didn't make you shave that off," Talla remarks. "She must have been furious."

"Yep!" Rara says proudly. "So don't be afraid to ask!"

Hmm. I stretch out one of my legs. The poor slipper-sandals are already starting to come apart, and the soles have gotten all bent out of shape.

"What about these?" I ask.

"What are those?!"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, I know. I don't have hooves and my feet are weird, I get it."

"No, not that!" Rara says. "Talla—why have I never thought about decorating my hooves before?!"

"Because mother would string you up by the horns and shave you naked?"

"You think?" she asks with an impish grin—her sister's warning having the exact opposite of the intended effect. "I don't know anybody who makes hoof-covers like that, but I can definitely find someone who would be interested. Any design constraints?"

Uh...I didn't expect to get this far.

"Sturdy but flexible bottoms, a soft interior, uh...waterproof, if possible?"

She nods seriously, mentally taking note of each request. "Okay! Give me a day or two to find the right artisan then I'll arrange a meeting."

"Seriously?" I ask. "Just like that?"

"Just like that!" she confirms. "If dad doesn't have your papers ready yet I'll bring them here, okay?"

"Holy frick! Rara, I think you might be my new favorite person!"

She puts her hands on her hips and beams proudly. "Don't you forget it! Also, what was that word you just said?"

"Huh? Oh, you mean 'frick'?" I ask. "It's just a silly curse. It doesn't mean anything."

"Frick...hmm, I kind of like that," she says, playing with the word. "Frick this, frick that. It's so...I dunno, sharp?"

"Oh no!" Maggie cries. "Allie, don't you dare let fucking 'frick' enter the Fa'aun lexicon!"

"Well," Rara sighs. "I'd better frick off—am I using that right? I've got a party to get to and some leatherworkers to track down. It was nice meeting you!"

"Allie! Fix it, it's not too late!" Maggie insists.

I ignore Mags, my ears perking up at the mention of parties.

"A party?" I ask. "What sort of party?"

"Not the fun kind," Rara sighs. "Just a bunch of my cousins getting together to brag about how great they are. Once you get your papers I'll invite you to a real frick party some time!"

"She's not even using it right, for fuck's sake!" Maggie groans.

"It's 'fricking,'" I correct her, although Fa'aun grammar doesn't quite work the same way. "And I'd like that! It was nice meeting you too, Rara."

She departs with a wave, whispering her new favorite curse word under her breath as she goes. When she's gone, Talla gives me a sidelong look.

"You did that on purpose," she accuses.

I blink innocently. "Whatever could you mean?"

"That word," she sighs. "It's going to circle the entire city twice by nightfall now that you've given it to Rara. You know, if there are other living dungeon-borne around, they aren't necessarily going to be from your world."

"Maybe not," I agree. "But if there are, then at least if they hear that word they'll know they aren't alone."

"I think I'm starting to see why Evelyn thinks you're so dangerous," Talla chuckles.

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