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Deal of a Lifetime

Chapter 6

It took a little longer that expected for Aston and the others to embark on their little day out later that morning. The four of them only managing to make their way out of the Jade House after a good two hours or so of intense preparations and huffy negotiations on Laurel's part.

Setting foot onto the wide stoop that laid before the Jade House's entrance and into the cool mid-morning sun Aston was surprised to see that the “Row" was still very much the noise, chaotic area he'd traveled through the prior evening. Party goers and revel makers alike still walking around enjoying themselves despite the early hour of the day.

“Do people around here ever go to sleep?" Aston wondered aloud as he and everyone descended down the steps onto the cobblestone road.

Walking beside him, Laurel sniggered lightly into his hand. The boy always the model of smirking aristocracy. “Why would one bother sleeping when it's so much more fun staying up?" He asked. “Why, when I first arrived here in Kelston I partied many a night away. Even made a few friends if you know what I mean."

“We do and that's why you got kicked out of Gold House, remember?" Hector retorted. The scowl he received from Laurel only making him snort back. “Lorry does have a point though." He did say to Aston. “Reveler's Row is a place of fun and frolic! Why ruin it with a bedtime?"

“Perhaps because sometimes it's better to be at home where it's safe," Harriet commented dryly next to them.

Perplexed as to what that statement meant Aston turned to the older woman, a question on his lips. Before he could ask however, Harriet quickly changed the subject on them. Her posture going stiff as she proceeded to clear her throat to gain everyone's attention.

“Alright boys, we have appointments to make and Hector, I assume you don't want to be late?" She said sternly. “So let us not dawdle! I don't want to miss the trolley."

“Trolley?" Turning back and forth between Laurel and Hector as they began walking down the street, Aston gave the two questioning looks. “What's... a... trolley?"

With a small laugh, Hector put an arm around the farmer and pulled him into a sideways hug. “Oh, you are going to love this Country Man!" He grinned. “Best way in town to get anywhere I say!"

Though not appreciating Hector's vagueness or his insistence in calling him “Country Man", Aston decided to allow himself to be led to this mysterious trolley “thing" without any further questions. The slight apprehension he felt at not knowing what it was as they ambled along only grew as he wondered if what the half-elf said would be true or not.

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Turned out Hector had been absolutely right when it came to Aston's feelings towards the trolley. The rural-born man barely able to contain his awe and wonder as the clamorous, clanking transport they had boarded after their short walk to it's station slowly rumbled its way down the street.

Unable to look away as the scenery passed by at a brisk pace, Aston marveled at how ingenious the whole thing truly was. Imagine! A carriage, powered by electricity runes, that traveled along a set of tracks. All right there in the middle of a city! One that as they traveled through it, he was able to see more of now that the sun was out.

Contrary to the filthy and dangerous neighborhoods he traversed the day before, this area of Kelston, West Kelston, was like an entirely different world. No badly maintained buildings or hazardous factories in sight. Those atrocious landmarks replaced by colorful homes and prosperous businesses that lined clean streets made of laid brick and mortar.

Aston had asked Hector, after the first few blocks of riding, why the western part of Kelston was so much more advanced compared to the east. In response, the half-elf had merely stated that the Dragkin simply knew how to build a city and build it right. The few attempts they did make to share their knowledge with the citizens on the other side of the wall that separated them always ending in failure thanks to the Raisterian's refusal to accept any form of help from the Draterrans.

Aston couldn't say he was surprised if that were true. He knew that the Raisterian people were a proud and stubborn lot. Especially when it came to those they perceived as outsiders or in the Dragkin's case, enemies. Though… as he continued to stare out of the windows of the trolley, Aston started to seriously doubt that they truly were that.

Regardless of their slightly fearsome appearances the Dragkin Aston saw roaming the streets as they rode by appeared to be no different than those from his own village. Yes, they were certainly far scalier than humans, but beyond that they seemed utterly benign and harmless.

Young adults talked and laughed with their friends as they strolled down the streets. Middle-aged couples held hands as they shopped. Elderly drakes and dames sat on benches, canes across their laps while children played happily nearby.

Aston had even witnessed this one fellow, a big brutish green drake with a protruding brow and dozens of spikes and battle scars all over him, pushing what looked to be a baby in a stroller. A proud papa who gave those in the trolley a friendly wave as he waited at a crossing for them to pass.

The more he saw of all this, the more Aston became convinced that everything he had been taught about the Draterran Empire wasn't entirely true. That its people weren't monsters. At least when it came to the everyday citizens. Aston had yet to lay eyes on any sort of military force. No guards or soldiers or anything like that. For all he knew they could be like the creatures from all those old stories. A hidden army ready to attack at any moment.

Hearing the sudden, shrill squeal of the trolley's breaks going off Aston drew himself out of his silent musings and back to the present. The sightseeing put on pause as they pulled into another station and several of the other passengers began rising from their seats and headed over to the sliding doors serving as the vehicles exit as they opened.

To his surprise, Hector was one of such individuals. A tired little sigh coming out of him when he reluctantly stood. “Well, this is my stop," He announced. “Harriet, I'll see you later and Asty and Lorry, good luck with today. You're going to need it!"

“Wait," Aston said, fully snapping to attention. "I… I thought you said you were coming with us to our appointments."

“I said I'd be joining you when I left my friend." Hector was quick to point out. A small smirk. “And while I'd love to keep you company and see everything about to happen to you, I can't. Got a job to get to."

Giving his friends one last wink Hector quickly got off of the trolley. The thin man hopping off and making his way through the small crowds milling about outside until he vanished around a corner at the far end of the street they were at.

“A job?" Aston repeated once he couldn't see Hector anymore. Frowning in confusion, he turned to Harriet. “Hector works somewhere in town?"

“Of course he does Mr. Bak-son," Harriet said, half distracted. When she got a blank stare in return the older woman sighed. “Do you remember the Jade House's policy on room and board?"

Thinking back to everything he'd been told earlier Aston eventually recalled a vague memory of the subject. “Yes… you said I could stay free for four months, correct?"

Pleased Harriet nodded in return. “Precisely! Unfortunately for poor Hector, that period passed quite some time ago. He now works at a tavern to earn the money he needs to stay with us at the house."

Having said that, the plump woman suddenly became huffy and irritated. Her face scrunching up in a glower as she began speaking in a manner even haughtier than usual. “Not that he needs to do such a thing mind you! Hector already does his fair share around the house. Helping Tulion cook! Helping Caspian with chores and me with paperwork. If he asked we'd simply count all that as his rent! BUT NO! Sweet stubborn boy just had to insist on paying his own way no matter how many times we tell him he doesn't!"

By the time she had finished her long, passionate rant Harriet was out of breath and red faced. The way she had let down her walls surprising Aston who stared at her, unsure of how to react. But then, just as suddenly as she had lost control she reined herself back in. Her stern, no-nonsense attitude snapping back into place as the trolley started up again.

“Anyway…" She sniffed. “Prepare yourselves, boys. We'll be getting off at the next stop."

Only suffering mild whiplash from that shift in mood Aston reclined back in his seat, once more returning to staring out of the windows. Though his attention was only partially focused on what was outside. This time most of his thoughts focused on the matter of his own stay at the Jade House.

Recalling the previous night, Aston did remember Hector saying he'd been staying at the dorms for over two years. He should have realized that meant he was paying to stay at the Jade House. But to work at some bar to get the money? Was his desire to be with a Dragkin really that great?

Well, if that was then Aston could, at the very least, appreciate his dedication. Not that he'd ever be caught doing the same thing. Those few weeks working at the bar in his village with those handsy drunks and his cruel, vindictive boss had been quite enough thank you!

Besides, he didn't even want to be with a Dragkin like Hector apparently did. Not truly. The only reason he had told Tulion and Harriet that when he signed that contract was to get the money to save his family.

Reminded of his loved ones and their blight for the first time that morning, Aston did a quick calculation in his head. If he had been right about how long it had taken him to get to Kelston then that meant he had just over four months, give or take, to accomplish his goal.

In that short amount of time, he would have to find some female Dragkin – Because there was no way in hell he was going to be with a drake regardless of what kinds of bizarre dreams he was having! – and charm her enough that she'd agree to sign an accord and pay off his family's debts.

Not exactly the most thought out of plans, but one Aston was reasonably confident he could pull off. He had somehow managed to “seduce" that one woman when he was younger after all. Sort of. Well, it was mostly her doing all the work and he just nodded his head and did as he had been told. But still, courting a Dragkin dame shouldn't be too hard. Or… at least that's what he hoped.

With the trolley stopping at the next station, Harriet rose from her seat and collected her belongings. A large bag and umbrella that matched her current dress. Those in hand, she then motioned to both Aston and Laurel to follow as she led them off of the vehicle and out into a rather upscale neighborhood filled with all sorts of specialty shops and other business.

“Pardon me if I'm being rude, but may I query as to where it is we are heading exactly?" Laurel asked, the younger man curiously looking around at everything they passed.

Seeing that Laurel was about to collide with a flower display Aston rushed over to take him by the arm and escort him out of harm's way. “Yeah, you never really did explain what this is all about Ma'am… ah, I mean Miss Vanderman." He agreed. “Just that it was to make us look presentable?"

“Exactly Mr. Bak-son, Laurel." Coming to a stop Harriet turned to them. Nose crinkled as she looked over her two charges with a hint of disapproval. "I hate to be rude, but how you're dressed, your hair as well, it simply won't do! You're representing the Jade House right now so you must strive to fit the part!"

Giving himself a once over himself Aston quickly agreed with the matronly woman's appraisal of his appearance, though he hated to admit so. He looked every part the country bumpkin he was. Faded linen tunic stained with sweat and trousers old hand-me-downs just shy of having been patched up one too many times. Certainly not the best outfit to wear when trying to attract potential partners.

Laurel however, wasn't at all agreeing with what had been said. Extreme displeasure and huffy outrage radiating off of him as his lips puckered as if he'd just eaten a lemon. "I'll have you know Miss Vanderman that what I'm wearing is a “Burrton" original!" He scoffed. “It's the height of fashion in the capital! As is my hairstyle for that matter!"

'Height of fashion?' Aston thought bemusedly, eyes scanning over Laurel's clothes. A lavender, three-piece princely raiment stitched with golden embroidery topped off by an overly puffy lace ascot. 'If that's true then everyone in the capital must be blind as a bat!'

Unfortunately, Harriet did not find any humor in the pride Laurel seemed to hold towards his choice in wardrobe. The scathing glare she leveled him with fierce enough to instantly make him cringe. “I don't care if that's true or not, Mr. Lock-hart does not matter. Because right now, here in _ Kelston , you will put aside your unique fashion sense and adapt or _perish."

Then, giving a smile, Harriet motioned to the building on their right. “Which is exactly why we are here today." She announced. “So look sharp, be polite, and don't you dare embarrass me here or I'll end you on the spot."

Wondering what exactly could illicit such a threat Aston followed Harriet's outstretched arm and saw that they were standing in front of some sort of barbershop. Or what he assumed to be one. Truth be told, besides the spinning white and red poll sitting outside, nothing about the building he was looking at looked at all like your run of the mill barbershop.

It was a strangely shaped structure. Its exterior made of mismatched shapes of various colors. Peering through the window he could also see that the inside was just as odd. More bright hues and large mirrors decorating the walls with several mechanical chairs placed at odd intervals around the colorful space.

Caught up in trying to comprehend what it was he was seeing Aston was taken by surprise when the sounds of jingling bells reached him. Their source being Harriet who had already entered the building without them. Both him and Laurel quickly having to rush after her before they were left behind.

As they entered the odd business Aston was just in time to hear Harriet being greeted by the cheerful looking woman manning the front desk. A brilliant smile barred at them as she spoke. “OH! Miss Harriet! You're here!" She said. “You're an hour late so I was worried you'd miss your appointment!"

“I was worried about that myself dear," Harriet responded with equal cheer. “Please say that Pazzel's still in. I fear we're going to need their help more than ever today."

“Oh, I'm always in darling!" An animated voice suddenly called out before the receptionist could respond. “This is my salon after all. I need to be on top of things."

Facing whoever it was who had just spoken Aston and the others were met with a rather tall Dragkin in a billowy red shirt and black trousers. Their scales white as snow with elegantly large wings barring bright blue membranes and matching metallic horns.

Giving the largest grin possible, the stranger approached with open arms, an almost melodic laugh coming from him. “Harriet love! It's been forever and a day!" Bending down they quickly bestowed a light kiss on each of Harriet's cheeks. “Do tell, how are Tully and Cass treating you?"

“Tully's still giving me a headache most days and a smile every night." Harriet joked back with a giggle. “Caspian's treating me well too! Though that's mostly because he's far easier to deal with than that drake of ours."

“But of course, Cass is!" Pazzel retorted, half grinning, half chuckling. "Ugh! It still pains me that Tulion got to him first! To think, the “King of Kelston's Backstreets", getting his heart tamed by a goofball like that!"

Leaning to the side Pazzel looked past Harriet, finally noticing Aston standing there. “Now what do we have here!?" Walking closer, the white Dragkin giving an interested sounding hum. “Such a pretty young man! Oh Harriet, please say you brought him here as a gift for me."

Aston's cheek pinkened at the small compliment. He'd never been called "pretty" before. The closest he ever got was a, "I guess you look okay.", from someone in his family.

In contrast, Harriet merely rolled her eyes at her friend's flirty words. “I'm sorry to disappoint you Pazzel dear, but I'm afraid we're only here for a quick styling." She said. “Both Mr. Bak-son and Mr. Lockhart here are in dire need of some sprucing up."

“But of course," Pazzel said, disappointed for a moment before quickly cheering up again. “Wait… Mr. Lockhart? Ah, so you've brought me another one! Pray tell, where is the… little… oh! OH NO! No, no, no, no, NO!"

Casually shifting focus away from Aston and over to Laurel while speaking Pazzel let out loud, dramatic gasp the very moment they caught sight of the pudgier man's appearance. Scaled face quickly taking on an expression of pure, absolute horror as they took in his hair, his clothes, everything all at once.

“By the Moon Goddess and her beloved!" Pazzel cried out. “What. The. Hell. Is. That!?"

Stunned by the visceral greeting, Laurel huffed. His own chubby cheeks taking on an embarrassed rosy tint. “Pardon me!" He said, very flustered and annoyed now. “Do you have a problem with me?"

In response Pazzel quickly brought a hand to their chest, eyes fluttering and body shuddering as if they were about to faint. “Yes there is! That dreadful, dreadful abomination atop your head you poor, poor boy!"

“Abomination!" Laurel squawked with indignation. “Why you overgrown salamander! How dare you insult my perfectly beautiful ha—"

Spinning around before Laurel could finish his retort, Pazzel flared their wings and gave Harriet the most serious of looks. “I see why you requested an emergency appointment now!" They exclaimed. “This boy's head is in dire need of the full “Pazzel-Dazzle Experience"!"

“So, there's hope for him then?" Harriet asked, the slight quirk on her lips giving away how amused she was by Pazzel's dramatics. “I was worried he was a lost cause."

“Yes, but It's going to take every bit of skill my assistants and I have to fix this disaster!" Closing their eyes for a moment Pazzel sighed. “Your boy might not make it out entirely unscathed."

Growing concerned Laurel pushed his way between Harriet and the white Dragkin, hands on going to his hips as he glared up at them. “Unscathed? What do you mean by that!?" He demanded. “Will you stop talking about me as if I wasn't—"

Ignoring Laurel yet again, Pazzel walked to the center of the showroom. “Betty! Angela! Julian! Harran! Theodore!" With each name said there was a quick clap of the hands. “All hands on deck! We have a code four!"

As soon as Pazzel gave the order several people dressed in white uniforms rushed out into the room. Two human women, one an elf, and two men, one a dwarf. All four of them, along with the receptionist from earlier forming a line before Pazzel as if they were soldiers standing at attention before their commanding officer.

Playing into the role, Pazzel pointed over to Laurel and then to one of the mechanical chairs. A silent command given that instantly had the quintet rushing to apprehend the heavyset young man like guards swarming a criminal. Laurel letting out a rather indignant yelp as he was unceremoniously lifted off of the ground over their heads and hauled off towards the indicated location.

“Harriet sweetheart, why don't you and the pretty boy have a seat while I deal with your little chubby friend here?" Pazzel instructed, the pair of scissors they kept in a holster on their belt drawn like a sword. “It's going to take some time to slay the beast you brought into my salon!"

Made to witness this strange event from the sidelines Aston wondered for a moment if he should try and save Laurel as he was strapped down. The only things keeping him from doing so were the fear that he might suffer the same fate if he intervened, and Harriet who, grabbing his arm, pulled him over to a small waiting area off to the side where a comfortable-looking couch sat.

“I-Is Lorry going to be alright?" Aston asked as he was made to take a seat.

Peering over at the spectacle happening a short distance away and then back, Harriet distractedly waved off his concerns. "Oh, he'll be fine Mr. Bak-son." She said dismissively. “Pazzel is known far and wide for being the best—"

Suddenly the sound of Laurel's frightened cry as the chair he was in reclined back with the loud crunch of gears could be heard from across the room. The accosted man frantically kicking of the feet and sputtering in outrage as Pazzel's dwarven lackey doused his head with an entire bucket of soapy water and proceeded to roughly scrub his damp scalp.

“—stylist in all of Kelston!" Harriet finished, not once missing a single beat despite the chaos going on. “But you'll find that out yourself after they've finished Laurel over there."

'I think you mean, “Finished off", right?' Aston thought grimly, another round of incensed shouting from Laurel sounding in the background.

Ignoring her pudgier client's plight however, Harriet started to rummage through her purse, eventually producing a stack of papers. "Besides Mr. Bak-son you have your own matters to worry about at the moment." She said to Aston. "I figured while we're waiting we could get your seeker profile sorted out."

Reluctantly taking his eyes off of Laurel and the others Aston stared down at the papers and frowned. “And… a “Seeker Profile" would be?" He drawled. Why was everything having to do with Hallarian accords so damn complicated? Back on the farm, you made a deal by just shaking on it.

Harriet sighed at the farmer's question, visually annoyed at having to explain. “It's a simple form Dragkin looking for accord-mate look over when choosing a human to court." She explained. “It lists your personal details, medical history when applicable, and other such details."

“Alright, that doesn't sound too bad." Aston said with a nod of understanding. "Do you write it up for me or…"

“I can help you fill out the details if I must." Harriet provided. After taking out and inkwell and a quill quickly wetted it and brought it to the first paper. “Oh! But there is one section that you'll have to do on your own, however."

A shrewd smirk appeared on Harriet's heavily makeup covered face. “A small paragraph explaining why you want a Dragkin lover and what you'll be bringing to the table." She chuckled sinisterly. “You'll have to make sure to be as honest as you can when writing it. Which I'm sure you'll have no trouble doing, correct Mr. Bak-son?"

Returning Harriet's intimidating gaze with his own, Aston felt a bead of sweat run down the side of his face. Harriet's thinly veiled skepticism putting him on edge. It was plain to him that she was still very much suspicious of him.

Which honestly, he understood. The way he had reacted when he first learned about what the Hallarian accord truly was having been quite negative. It was very obvious that he'd have to tread carefully when dealing with this woman. Otherwise he'd be found out and have to face the “dire consequences" she'd spoken of the night before.

So carefully choosing his words Aston smiled in the face of Harriet's intensely passive-aggressive questioning. "Being honest will be no problem at all." He said, sweetly as possible. “I mean, why would it Miss Vanderman… ma'am?"

Aston added that last, drawn out “ma'am" just to tick Harriet off out of spite. Which much to his delight worked. The heavyset woman sneering at him in an oddly polite manner as she continued staring him down. The two of them silently clashing in a silent contest of dueling ego for several drawn out, agonizing moments while a nearby clock on the wall ominously ticked away.

It was only after quite some time that Harriet relented. A small sigh drifting into the air as she adjusted herself properly in her seat. “Alright then Mr. Bak-son. Let us get down to the task at hand." She hummed. “I'll finish the details of your first form then hand it off for you to finish. Don't take too long though, we have to fill out eight seeker forms for each of the negotiator houses in the city."

“Eight?" Aston tilted his head to the side, mind going back to the conversation he had with the man who'd given him directions. “But… I thought there were only seven negotiator houses in Kelston."

This particular subject seemed to put Harriet on edge again. The mature woman squirming in her seat as if she were uncomfortable. “There were, but a new one recently opened up shop." She curtly explained. “Don't mention it in front of Tulion. He prefers not to talk about it."

Though intrigued as to why Tulion didn't want to talk about that particular subject – Honestly it was a wonder the excitable giant ever stopped talking – Aston decided to let his questions go for now. Attention shifting to the collection of forms he was to fill out.

Given his chosen profession as a farmer, Aston had never really done that much writing. He was more at ease with a pitchfork than a quill. Still, for his plan, he would try his best to write down that could trick a Dragkin into wanting him. It was either that or sit there and continue listening as Laurel endured the hostile makeover he was being subject to. Which from the way he was continuing to shout and fuss about was not at all a pleasant experience.

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“I said stop moving!" A gruff, growly voice barked at Aston from below. “If you do not I will be unable to get the correct measurements."

“S-Sorry," Aston mumbled back.

Standing there in just his underthings Aston tried his best to keep balance atop the small platform he'd been on for the last hour. His whole being tense and arms straining as he peered down at the mostly bald head of the well-dressed orc that was busy taking his measurements.

“Brother!" The orc grunted out. “Fifty-two inch waist!"

Standing close by, a second orc, this one with quaffed hair and also in a suit, quickly wrote down what his green-skinned cohort said. “Fifty-two inch waist." He repeated. “This human is a bit of a chubby one is he not?"

“Yes. I fear we will have to use twice as much fabric than we originally anticipated." The orc kneeling in front of Aston agreed.

'Geeze fellas, could you be any more blunt.' Aston thought moodily as he continued to pose on his perch, the slight chill in the air he felt thanks to his exposed arms and legs only making it harder to stand perfectly still as he'd been told.

It was later that afternoon. Harriet having dragged their little group to a tailor's shop for a fitting after their business at Pazzel's had been concluded. The overly cheerful Dragkin bidding them a fondly fair farewell as the three of them made their way down the street away from the salon.

All in all, Aston couldn't say his interactions with the flamboyant Dragkin had been that bad. Far better than Laurel's trial by fire at least. Pazzel and their employees treating him far more gently and giving him compliments on his "sun-kissed" hair, whatever that meant, as he was given a quick trim and a shave before they moving on to other matters.

Apparently visiting a salon was very different from visiting a barbershop. Because once haircuts were finished Pazzel had insisted on giving them the “Pazzel-Dazzle Spa Day Special"! Something that included an activity called a “facial", meaning having smelly green goo slathered all over your face, and a “manicure slash pedicure", meaning having your fingernails and toenails washed, trimmed, and polished.

The whole procedure had been… strange to Aston. Being pampered and tended to like that something he'd never experienced before. He dreaded to think what his older brothers would have said if they'd seen him laying their in the chair being "beautified" as Pazzel had so elegantly put it.

Aston couldn't argue with the results though. He was far more relaxed than he'd ever been before thanks to all the warm towels and nice smelling concoctions used on him. He might even see himself going back to the salon one day if he could. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone.

Unfortunately… Laurel hadn't enjoyed his time at “Pazzle-Dazzle's" quite as much. In fact, he was still very much bitter about the whole matter concerning the treatment he'd received even after having left said location nearly two hours ago.

Daring to turn his head so he could see said man across the room Aston quickly had to suppress a small chuckle. The sight of the grumpy, huffy Laurel as he sat there pouting like a toddler between Harriet and another one of her friends almost too much for him to bear.

“I. Hate. It." Laurel harrumphed for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. Folding his arms over his chest he slouched down in his seat as far as he could a pout on his lips. “I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I HATE IT!"

To the sullen man's right, a cooing Harriet carefully ran a hand over his head. “But your hair looks amazing now Laurel dear." She said softly. “I bet sure every Dragkin in the city will be falling over themselves trying to talk to you after they see it! Right, Sahstra?"

“Oh, I wholeheartedly agree Harriet!" A light, sultry voice replied back. “You look absolutely stunning you dear little man."

Shifting attention away from his friend Aston watched the woman seated next to Laurel took a long drag from the long holder her cigarette was in. The warm, kindly smile she offered up as ringlets of blue tinted smoke rose around her promptly ignored by it's intended target.

'It was a good attempt at least.' Aston reckoned, vision trailing over the new women for a moment.

Sahstra, the owner of the tailor shop, was a Dragkin dame. The first one Aston had seen up close. A rather elegant woman with a plump figure and intensely blue, almond-shaped eyes. Her scales were quite beautiful too. An almost glittering crimson with a pink underside. He horns, spiral like a ram's in shape, emerging from long, curly blond hair that she had styled similar to Harriet's.

Continuing in her attempt to cheer up Laurel, Sahstra offered him a treat from a glass dish atop a nearby table which he greedily gobbled up before returning to his previous huffy state. “Actually sweetling, If you were into females I might even pursue you myself." She continued. “It would do business good to have a handsome boy like you around the shop."

“See!" Harriet chimed in, sharing a smiling look with Sahstra. “Your new haircut is just fine! You practically look like a prince!"

Despite the praise being rained down upon him Laurel's glower did not waver. His entire being giving off the undeniable stink of someone who was not at all pleased. Not that Aston understood his attitude. Both women were right in his opinion, Laurel did indeed look much, much better after the trip to the salon.

By some miracle of skill and talent Pazzel had managed to reshape Laurel's awful bowl cut into something far more presentable. Blond hair shortened, curled, and styled in such a way that he appeared almost cherubic. That was if you didn't pay attention to the bitter scowl he was currently sporting.

“Good! Now all we have left is the inseam." The orc doing measurements announced, bringing Aston back to his own problems. “Move your legs apart for me."

Complying with the order he'd been given, Aston parted his legs, wondering why he was being asked to do so. A mystery that quickly solved itself when the back of the orc's hand suddenly brushed up against his groin. The little, embarrassing squeak that came out of him when he was touched in such a private place drawing attention from everyone else in the room.

“Is something the matter over there Mr. Bak-son?" Harriet called over, tone knowing.

Partially ignoring the warning growl he got from his orcish tailor as he re-positioned himself, Aston once again put on his best smile despite Harriet's taunting words. “I-I'm fine Miss Vanderman." He assured. “Just… d-didn't expect to get measured down there."

Lifting herself off of the couch Sahstra sauntered her way over to him. Rounded hips swaying seductively the entire time she moved. “First time getting fitted for clothing sweetie?" She asked after another long inhale of her cigarette.

“Yeah…" Blushing, Aston ducked his head down. “Usually I just wear one of my older brother's hand-me-downs. Sorry if I'm moving too much."

This admission and timid behavior appeared to endear him to Sahstra who lightly chuckled back. “Think nothing of it my handsome boy." She smirked. “Besides..."

Pausing for a moment she reached down to caress the top of her orc employee's head. Clawed fingers running through the small tuff of styled hair he had before sliding down to his cheek. The greenskin absently nuzzling against her palm with a loud, almost purring, rumble as he continued to work.

“...Next to me, Urakin and his brother Ludzin are the best tailors in Kelston." The red Dragkin finished. “My accord-mates are both well accustomed to dealing with newcomers to the tailoring scene."

Aston stilled, unsure of what he'd just heard. “You and them are… accord-mates?" He repeated, looking between the three of them. “A-As in all three of you?"

“But of course we are sweetie!" Sahstra casually explained with a giggle. “I've been deeply, passionately, madly in love with these big beautiful brutes going on ten years now."

“Eleven and a half." Urakin, the kneeling orc, stated matter-of-factly as he moved onto measuring the width of Aston's leg. “Ludzin! Inseam is thirty-five."

Writing down the measurement Ludzin, the standing orc, grumbled. “Inseam thirty-five." He repeated. Then to Sahstra he stoically said. “You always forget to count our courting Mistress."

Sahstra sighed, the roll of her eyes telling Aston immediately that this was a common argument between the three of them. “Fine my loves, eleven and a half." She conceded. “I swear, you two are so sentimental! But I love it! Love it!"

Observing as Sahstra went over to Ludzin to give him a quick peck on the lips which he smiled slightly at, Aston couldn't help by give a small, silent huff. It made sense, he supposed. What better way for a Dragkin to get free labor than forcing an “accord-mate" to work for them? That would probably be his fate when all was said and done.

Finished with his work Urakin rose to his feet with a grunt. “Leg width twenty-one inches." He announced putting away his measuring tape. “Measurements have now been completed."

After jotting the last number down Ludzin handed over the clipboard he'd been using to Sahstra who checked it over. “Alright Harriet, looks like we're done with both your boys here." She said. “It's going to take a few days before we can finish the outfits though. How does a week sound?"

“That will be fine." Harriet agreed as she got up and joined them. “Just as long as it's before the next Mixer Ball. They'll need those outfits if they're going to have any hope of finding someone there."

Sahstra gave a happy nod at that. “For you Harriet my dear, of course we can have them done by then!" She said. “Now, was there anything else we can help you with?"

“I wanted to pick out a few sets of everyday clothes for Mr. Bak-son while we're here." Looking over to him, Harriet snorted derisively. “Can you believe this one came all the way to Kelston with only one change of clothes!"

“Some men just don't know how to pack!" Sahstra sighed. Motioning to her two orcs to join her she headed for a doorway that led to the back of her business. “Just give us a moment Harriet and we'll bring out a few things for you to select from."

Harriet nodded back. “Of course…" She hummed, a kind, friendly smile given as she watched the trio of tailors exit the room. However, as soon as they left her grin dropped, a glare quickly replacing it which she aimed right at Aston.

“I know what you were thinking Mr. Bak-son." The mature woman growled accusatorially.

Flinching at the sharpness in those words Aston stared back at the woman, a little panicked. “W-What!?" He asked, truly not knowing. “What are you talking about!?"

Expression unchanging Harriet crept closer, her tone hushed and warning as she elaborated. “That little lour you made when Sahstra said her accord-mates worked here." She continued. “As I said, I know what you were thinking and might I add; You. Are. Very. Much. Wrong."

Despite himself, Aston scoffed back at her. “Look, I'm sorry if I made a face, but really?" He argued. “It's clear as day that the only reason Miss Sahstra made an accord with those two orcs was because it got her free labor."

“You make an awful lot of assumptions Mr. Bakson." Harriet harrumphed back tetchily. “So please, allow me to correct that erroneous thought process before you make a complete ass of yourself."

Going over to a nearby wall where dozens of framed photographs had been hung Harriet pointed to the topmost one impatiently. “Come here child and have a look at this!" She demanded.

Curious as to what was going on Aston hopped down from the measuring platform and went over to inspect the black-and-white image being pointed out. Leaning in the could see a smiling Sahstra standing between younger looking versions of Urakin and Ludzin. The three of them proudly posing before the very building they were inside of.

“What's this?" Aston said, not quite understanding.

“That is a photograph taken on the opening day of this very shop four years ago," Harriet revealed fondly. "Sahstra was so ecstatic on that day as were her boys, and do you know why?"

Aston slowly shook his head. “No… why?"

“Because after all the hard work, scrimping, and saving they had done for the seven years beforehand, they had finally accomplished their dream." Giving a soft sigh Harriet looked over to the back door the three tailors had gone through.

“See, back at their clan's stronghold Urakin and Ludzin weren't allowed to make clothing." She continued after a moment. “Their father claimed that it wasn't befitting of orc warriors of their bloodline. That's why they fled to Kelston. To seek out a better life doing what they love."

Taking Aston by the chin, Harriet forced his attention away from the picture and back to her. “Knowing that, we at the Jade House introduced them to Sahstra who had a similar passion to theirs. Together, they bought this shop. All of them contributing their part in the cost."

Releasing the younger man, a quick gently cuff given to his chin Harriet smirked. “So as you can plainly see no one is a slave here." She concluded. “Sahstra and her boys are equal business partners in every way."

Stunned at the intensity of the telling off he had just gotten, Aston stood there stunned for a moment or two. "Fine, so that's how it works here." He managed to say after recovering. "But I bet other Dragkin use Hallarian accords as an excuse to get free workers or servants for their homes."

“Not any Dragkin I've ever known." Harriet insisted, clearly unhappy that Aston hadn't gotten the point of her speech. “Pazzel for example. Their five accord-mates may not be business partners, but each of them are still paid as if they were. Far better than you'd ever find elsewhere in Raisteria."

“That still doesn't prove…" Suddenly realizing what had been said Aston stopped mid-sentence. Jaw dropping open as he fully absorbed what he'd heard. "Did you just say five!?"

“Yes, I did." Harriet reconfirmed with a smirk. "Those little assistants that helped cut your hair. The three girls and those two sweet boys? All five of them are Pazzel's accord-mates."

Aston gasped, his mind failing to wrap around how anyone could have that many partners at the same time. “B-But how!?"

Following that shocked response, Harrier broke out into a short fit of giggling at his expense. “I don't believe “how" is truly our business Mr. Bak-son." She teased. “But… from what I've heard, Pazzel's quite affectionate. Perhaps they need that many partners to sate their appetite."

Left reeling after learning that tidbit of information Aston startled when Sahstra and her two orcish lovers returned to the front room of their shop. The two men's arms laden with stacks of clothes that rose well above their green heads.

Seeing his dazed state, Sahstra gave Harriet and puzzled look. “Is Mr. Bakson alright?" She asked.

“Oh, he's fine dear. Just recovering from having his little worldview upended is all." Was Harriet's dismissive reply as she went over to inspect what the three tailors had brought them. "Forget that for now, we have outfits to pick out."

Her concerns replaced with an eager chuckle, Sahstra began helping Harriet in looking through the offerings she had in stock. The two women falling into a rapid, chatty conversation as to what would look best on Aston as the man himself stared on, bewildered.

“Shouldn't I be the one picking my clothes?" Aston tried asking once. He wasn't some child to be dressed up by their mother after all.

This objection seemed to fall on deaf ears though as Harriet and Sahstra continued gossiping, unabated. Aston was forced to accept what was happening as he went over to join Laurel who had been snacking from the bowl of treats from earlier.

“Not so funny when you're the one not in control is it?" Laurel said smirkingly.

Slumping back in his seat Aston reached out to get a snack himself but was denied when Laurel pulled away. “No… I don't suppose it is." He admitted.

Mimicking Laurel's pout Aston settled in and watched as his new wardrobe was chosen for him. If he was lucky, perhaps what Harriet got for him wouldn't be too bad. Not that he'd ever truly cared about fashion before mind you. Aston just didn't want to look silly. Something that appeared very likely when he saw Harriet holding out a pink floral shirt, that had him groaning softly in worry.

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