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Three of a Kind

By Laz Briar

"I - His Name is Aloise"

Even the dark could not hide the expansive horizon of the grand city Vallen. It stretched in a vast sea of towers jutting from the ground like black, jagged fingers, freckled with dim orange windows and torchlights. Along the ground were the hostels and habits of its denizens, but further inward were the gated citadels of the aloof and wealthy. Like a ring, the Inner Wall protected its royals and seated Governor, an eternal reminder of Solarian authority. Entry was difficult without proper notoriety, passage, or wealth, and only a madman would try to siege the thick, enchanted walls.

Precisely where Pik and Edwin needed to go.

Through the dusty window of their tavern room, the Count Anderly building was visible, even at a great distance. It was notable, for atop its spire was a dome and three pikes wearing the colored banners of the Count's family name. But the duo wasn't sightseeing, and they didn't fancy a friendly hello with the Count, it was what was inside that mattered.

Edwin studied it, pushed back in his chair, musing. “And you're clear on that, right? Certain? I don't mean 'a little,' or 'kind of,' I mean certain_, certain."_

He glanced to his partner, the impish girl taking sloppy, meaty hacks of a glowing vegetable, setting the ingredient cuts inside a small, roiling cauldron. Once the plant matter contacted the liquid, a sputum of erupting, violet colors snaked from its opening, clouding her face in a multi-colored vapor.

“Exactly how certain do you want me to be!? Jeeze, I got a lead, and my leads are as good as my ears!"

She glanced back to her lean, tall counterpart, flicking one of her long, pointed ears. The violet colors played off her greenish flesh, dancing over her gold eyes. Edwin's expression did not change.

“Ugh," Pik grunted, sticking out her tongue. “Is it so hard to put two and two together? It's a big fancy bleck-blah! Stupid party for big stupids! That calls for magic food and I'll bet my ass there's gonna' be peppers in there! My lead said so and that's so!"

“What a wager," said Edwin, returning his eyes to the window. “You'll forgive me if I don't put stock in that bet."

Pik returned to her work. “Fuck you, I'll bet a blowie too."

Edwin ignored this as she resumed her work, most of which resulted in continued gurgles and burps from the cauldron. A lead, in this circumstance, wasn't much. A lot to risk for an enchanted spice.

The goal was simple, of course. Get into the Count's estate, avoid mingling, and purloin precious peppers, likely found in the Count's gardens or kitchens. Problem, however, was status. Status and everything. There wasn't a pig's chance in a meat shop the two could wander into the Count's backyard uninvited, and thieving was out of the question. The only option was this: enter Count Anderly's ball. Or get together. Or “rich folk mingling to do bad pipe drugs." Whatever they called it. The point being, a bash of that size was distracting enough one might roam about Anderly's halls unattended – all that mattered was getting in.

“Mugwa-umping fukwa!"

Pik hissed as the cauldron belched several red bubbles, splattering her face, mussing her long, oil-black hair. Out from the liquid mass came a hand, then a form, a miniature mushroom shaped monster. Pik snarled, grabbed her cleaver, and sliced it.

Somehow, Edwin didn't think he and Pik would be welcome.

He wasn't much better off, either. His tall frame was often garbed in thick layered leathers with a deep black overcoat which hung to his ankles. Gloves, boots, hat, and scarf hid his moon-washed features. Only now, in the dim light of the tavern room, was his silver-white hair and pale eyes exposed. At best, in the distance, was a shadow, a ghoul. A real prince charming, invited to sooo many parties.

“Please don't burn the room down," Edwin commented. “I can't get back what we paid."

Pik grunted more and that wasn't reassuring. A loud squeal followed her noise as a tiny mutant monster bolted across the room. A blade of metal swooped past Edwin, cleaver impacting the wall.

“FUKWA!" Pik yelled, shaking her fist and pointing. “EDDDDY, IT'S RUNNIN'!"

Edwin glanced to the sprinting mass of halved mutant fungus, its three arms flailing about. He retrieved his Solarian revolver and with calm aim squeezed the trigger, splattering the shape of enchanted devilry, sending splinters of wood and dust in the air.

The loud crack rang his ears and a trail of acrid smoked snaked from the barrel. He looked back to Pik, who was squeezing her own from the sound, grousing at Edwin.

“I meant catch it you doop-wugh!" she said, wiping goop from her cheek.

His “charming" friend was a batch of untidy manners and no good for a fancy get together, either. She was short, nary three feet tall, with wide eyes, long pointed ears, and a river of black hair. The spotty freckles on her greenish flesh accented the fanged grins and snarls she often wore. A hat hid her head and cloth garbs somewhat covered her. She wasn't prudent, and despite her petite frame was quite “pronounced." Indeed, ignoring her goblin – or Fen – exterior, she carried an exquisitely pretty face, among things. That was all show, of course. Only Edwin knew what lie behind her veil of sassy exterior.

Edwin set the revolver aside, hoping the noise didn't alarm anyone downstairs. “You owe me for that, too. Rounds are hard to come by."

Pik rolled her eyes. “Uggghhh, geeze, sorry sir, slap my tits why don't you!"

Edwin pushed himself up from chair, going to the window. He tapped his fingers, rubbing chin. “. . .Pik."

“Whaaat?"

He turned back to her, the rented room a mess of magical gunk. Pik frowned at him, viscous red material dribbling off her features.

“This won't work."

She tilted her head. “Eh?"

He gestured at himself, then at her. “I mean this isn't going to work." A point to the window.

“I'll pretend for a moment your lead is right. But. . . we're not getting in, not like this."

Pik huffed, marching over to the maimed, limp creature, yanking its body from the ground. “Pfft, just bribe a guard."

Edwin managed a chuckle. “Well imagine we had that kind of money. But we don't, and guards don't take bribes from strangers. Just politicians."

Pik paused, looking at her failed summon, flicking eyes to Edwin before tossing the polyp aside. “Okay, whatever, I'll suck a guard's dick or somethin'!"

Edwin crossed his arms. “Really."

“Really."

“All of them?"

“. . .well, how many is it? Like, four?"

Edwin rubbed his head. “Oh, Pik."

She blinked. “Oh. That many huh?"

“Let's try something that doesn't involve you using your mouth, alright?"

“Oh, don't be gettin' all jealous on me, Eddy, they won't get the tongue like you do," Pik cackled.

Ugh. One time. Alright, two times, but drunk once.

“Pik."

Again, she growled. “Whaaat?"

Edwin didn't answer, and she rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine, jeeeeeze."

Pik returned to her cauldron, eyeing it for further disturbances. When none came, she went back to her opened pack of ingredients, pawing through them.

“You're quiet," Pik commented after an extended pause. “You have ideas when you're quiet."

Edwin was at the window, looking down at the streets, watching the shifting figures of town guards and evening drunks.

“Hmm, just one."

“Yeeeaaaah?"

Edwin glanced at himself and his choice of “practical" attire. Yep, still carried the look of a bogwater exile. He tried to imagine himself in fancier clothes and he shivered. Then, he mulled over the idea of Pik wearing a puffy dress and fought a snicker.

Maybe he could dress up as a feigned noble. Pik could too, but not a chance anyone would by a “low beast" Fen as any sort of elite. What if. . .

“If I bring along a fancy friend, maybe I can hide in plain sight."

Pik raised the bone of some skinned creature and cracked. “I ain't getting fancy."

“I didn't mean you."

Edwin could feel her cheeks flush.

“Well, we don't have a fancy friend, smart guy."

“No, but," Edwin said, scanning the lower roads. “I could get one."

-*-

Streets of the evening hour were coated with the wavering glow of gaslamps and the echoing march of guards. Here, in the veins of lower Vallen, Edwin felt more at home. It was no swamp, but certainly his element. Greasy air, muddy water, raucous of drunks and crowd chatter. This place was always alive. It didn't hurt he wasn't so out of place, either. Stalking the sidewalks in his Marsh Guard attire was appropriate - no one gave him a second glance as the silhouette of dirtied leathers whispered past them.

Much like the Anderly estate, though, he wasn't out for the sights. Pik's pepper hunt left them in quite a predicament, and if they really wanted those magic ingredients, Edwin would need to try something “alternative."

By alternative, he needed a partner. Someone that could pull of the allure and aesthetic of a noble elite, foppish mannerisms and all. But, surprising as it was, running haphazard across the Solarian countryside with an imp did little for one's reputation, much less gather a court of noble friends. The solution?

Fires of alluring pinks rinsed his black leathers in waves of enchanting color, married to a wide, red door embroidered with flowers. Edwin had heard of the place, walking near an hour into the innards of lower Vallen. Here he found himself in the entertainment district, and all that entailed. Card dens, gambling taverns, opeth huts, and of course, brothels. So many brothels. There was a flavor for every taste, from perfumed vixen women to hordes of Fen girls, all wearing the same come-hither glances. But, wasn't an evening gal he needed for this escapade to work.

Above the door, enchanted iron glowed red, bearing the building's name: Rozen. Here, he could find the necessary piece to put together his rushed plan. This was his problem solver: he didn't need a lady, he needed a lad, and rumor had it the boys of Rozen carried an exquisite elegance about them.

He pushed through the door, at once consumed with the delicate ambrosia of flowery scents and welcoming light.

“Oh, hello sieur."

A smooth, warm voice caught his attention, bringing his eyes to the clerk. Looks like the rumors were right.

A petite young man of lithe features and pale blonde hair offered a smile, wearing a white form-hugging attire. At a distance, he'd easily be mistaken for a woman. Hmm, good enough.

“The hour is late, and I thought our guests long gone for the night," he continued, opening a small book. He gave Edwin a studious once over.

“Fresh off the fight, sieur?"

Edwin felt it safe enough to doff his hat, revealing his silvery hair and pale eyes, mouth covered by scarf. “Sort of."

A tongue click. “Oh, my apologies. A wounded soul is a sorry sight, but, you've come to the right place, sieur."

The clerk retrieved a small pen, licking its tip. “Staying the night, sieur?"

Edwin approached, looking around. “Edwin's fine. And. . . not exactly."

The clerk scribbled his name in the book, wearing a smirk. “Ohh, fancy something nice and quick, sieur Edwin? We've got so many willing to oblige."

Edwin paused. Probably wasn't a good idea to start blabbering about his plan. He needed someone to come with him, wear fine clothes, act as a royal-like, but a request so specific might arouse suspicion. Who's to say some in the Count's service didn't stop by here? Edwin wasn't exactly subtle, appearance, wise.

“Also not exactly."

The eyes of the attendant wandered to his own. “Ohh, specific tastes? Please, do tell, the boys of Rozen appeal to all wants and needs. You only need to ask."

“And pay," Edwin said.

“Aha, that does help, yes."

Edwin mused, thinking over his coffers. He had enough to “rent" a fellow for a few days, enough time to make Anderly's ball and afford a hire.

“Elegance," said Edwin. “That's what I'm after. I'm a fella' of real particular tastes."

Best to lay it on a little thick. The concierge tilted his head, listening.

“Ah, see, I can't just get into it, I need to meet the guy. Needs to be posh. Want to feel like I'm with a royal. No, a prince even! That's it! Yeah, one of those. You know, fine wine and conversations about, erm, politics. As if I was bedding one of Anderly's guests."

At this, the attended simpered. “Ahh, oh my. Sieur Edwin has very refined desires, I see."

Edwin nodding, playing it all. “Sure, right. Refined."

The concierge put a soft finger to his lips, tapping it. “Well, it's a tall order. Many brothels couldn't fulfill such a set of prerequisites. But here at Rozen we pride ourselves on our very fine selection. We have one to your standards, sieur Edwin."

The concierge closed the book, gesturing to his side. “If you care to follow me. Oh, but before we do, you don't mind a chimera, do you? His family is Southlander, technically a low beast, but you'd scarcely bother to know it."

Edwin hesitated. “Low beast" was in reference to a caste of species, the various anthropoids you'd find across Sol Solaria and the rest of the world. Not that he cared, considering his company, but he wondered if that might stick out too much.

“He sounds lovely," said Edwin, shrugging. He didn't have much choice, as it were. “He the type for fancy get togethers?"

Upon hearing his approval, the lithe clerk smiled. “Multiples cost extra."

Edwin blinked. Oh. “Hmm? No, no, it's just me. I mean, I'm not. . . ah, never mind. How much? Afraid I'm a greedy thing, I'd like to um, hire the fellow for an extended period, if that's all right."

At this, the clerk's eyes brightened. “Ahh? My, my, big spender. Well, let's get you two together before we finalize things, yes?"

Edwin nodded. “Right, right. He have a name?"

The clerk didn't respond at first, only sauntered to towards a hall, beckoning Edwin along. As they did, they entered a scarlet hall inhabited by several doors, small rooms housing “activities." The air hung with a deep perfume and muffled moans were audible. As he did, Edwin noted there were was a steely eyed guard here and there, armed with vicious blades. Not men of Count or Solaria, but not the sort to get it in a row with, either, even if Edwin had his weapons.

“Aloise," the clerk finally said as they went upstairs to the top level. “Aloise La'vey."

Aloise, Edwin thought. Good name. That could pass. He didn't recognize the heritage, but, maybe it was a Southlander thing.

On the top floor, the arrived at a door similar to others, marked different only by three black diamonds clustered together.

“Aloise," said the concierge with a gentle rap, “you have a potential customer."

He looked to Edwin. “Normally we bring our selections out, sieur, but Aloise is better appreciated in a more intimate way, no?"

“No," said Edwin. “Er, wait. I mean, yes. Intimate."

Without waiting for reply, the Clerk pushed the door open and guided Edwin in. Inside was a room not too big or small, carrying an air of luxury. It was a brothel, of course, so it was only romantic in appearance, it wasn't like the room of an actual prince, but, Edwin bothered to note the distinction.

“Potential?"

The voice was soft and accented, one Edwin didn't recognize. His attention was tugged to the speaking figure, a frame doting on himself via mirror reflection on a fancy dresser. With precise, exquisite grace, he turned, crossed his shapely legs, head tilted.

“He clearly hasn't met me."

Ah, so this was Aloise. By “low beast," the concierge meant lapin, or rabbit. Pale white fur accompanied by a svelte frame complimented fine, posh features. He wore a fanged smirk, this Aloise, face touched by pink freckles, pink eyes, and a sheet of coiffed, pink hair. His “clothing" was hardly that, only a pair of tight black leggings and something to hide his crotch. Much like the clerk, though Aloise was male, you could easily mistake him for a lady if you saw him across the way.

The concierge glanced to Edwin. “Indeed. Sieur Edwin, this is Aloise, one of our better choices. Is he to your liking?"

Aloise bit into it like a fresh peach. “Yes, Eddy, am I?"

Quick, this one. For the life of him, Edwin couldn't pin that accent. Familiar but not. Certainly, no native Solarian tongue carried it.

As for appearance, Edwin squinted, setting aside his hat. Hmm. Not that he was the best judge of nobility, but there was an aura about this Aloise, something both enchanting and. . . dangerous. Well, didn't matter now, he was in for more than a penny. It was Aloise or nothing.

“He works," said Edwin with a nod. “Ah, I mean, yes, to my liking."

“Splendid," said the concierge with a light clap of hands. “Aloise, sieur Edwin is a man of specific tastes, so I trust you'll treat him well?"

Aloise cast the attendant a bored look. “I know what to do, Sae. You can leave, darling."

The clerk, Sae, returned with a familiar, withered expression. “Yes, yes," he chided, looking back to Edwin.

“I'll give you some privacy. Ah, sieur, and it's one silver Sulum for the night."

A whole bloody silver? Damn. Edwin hoped the rabbit was worth it. He made no fuss, though, nodding and opening his garb slightly, hinting at the hilts of various handguns before paying Sae. One paid, the effeminate lad took a slight bow and stepped out.

“Did he bore you with pedantic pleasantries?" buzzed Aloise, returning to his reflection. He was applying a faded, violet eyeshadow.

Edwin waited until he was sure the two were alone – or as alone as they could get. “Pedantic?"

A click of the tongue. “Oh, it's sieur this, sieur that. Puff and poff. Goes out the wayside when he's on his knees too, you know."

Edwin cleared his throat. “I wouldn't."

Aloise's long ears wiggled, standing upright. Edwin noted the trio of diamonds marked on the ears.

“No?" continued the rabbit, finishing his makeup. He turned to face Edwin. “Then you're no regular."

“How could you tell?" said Edwin, tone dry.

Aloise didn't respond at once, looking Edwin over from boot to head. “. . .by now, the clothes are usually off, Eddy."

Edwin took a few casual steps away from the door. “They can stay on."

The bun pushed his hand to lips in mock shock. “I do say, you are a man of zhtrange tastes."

“Yes, they're very specific," Edwin said, playing along. “So specific, in fact, they involve places outside the room."

For a moment, Aloise's smirk faded. “What?"

“It's a long story."

With one graceful motion, Aloise stood, hand on curvaceous hip, gesturing to the bed. “You did just pay for a whole night."

Edwin waived him off. “I intend to pay for more."

“Oh sieur," said Aloise, feigning a coo, “I'm flattered."

“That all depends on things, though."

Aloise's brow raised. “You know, it's not usually my policy to rush my clients but, might you just tell me?"

He glanced to the door. “I hope, for both our sakes, you aren't trying something stupid."

Edwin rubbed his head. “Uhhh. . ."

-*-

Laboring over his shoddy plan without coming off like a scheming loner proved more difficult than Edwin realized. Aloise – held only by payment – listened with curious intrigue, fancying himself a small glass of dark wine as Edwin laid out the basics.

A simple thing: Edwin needed a fancy escort to look royal himself in order to get into Anderly's court party. From there he'd get Pik inside and they'd rummage around for the fancy ingredients and then leave. Aloise was there to play the part of simpering, gossiping date, among things.

“. . .and you're doing zhis for magic. . . vegetables?"

Aloise perched himself on his bed's edge, staring at Edwin in disbelief.

“That's right."

“It's the Anderly ehztate."

“It is."

“He's the wealthiest Count in Vallen!"

“He is."

Aloise sipped the rest of his wine, before wiggling a finger. A bottle of black floated towards him, to which he poured another glass for himself. Oh. He could do that.

“And you realize you told me your plan, yes? Some of the Counts boys visit here. They'd find this little plan very interesting."

Edwin shrugged, patting his coat, pulling it slightly ajar to reveal the grip of one of his revolvers. “I took that into account."

The bun offered a long sigh, drinking again. “You're a strange, foolish man, Eddy."

“I've got bogwater in the brain," said Edwin, closing his overcoat.

“Hmph."

There was a pause. Then: “So, is that a no?"

Aloise didn't respond at once, musing. He flicked his eyes to the curtain covered window, out in the direction of the Andelry estate and inner Vallen. He tapped his black fingernails against sheets, taking another sip of his drink.

“A real show of my talents," he muttered.

Edwin tilted his head. “Eh?"

Aloise returned his gaze. “I mean, Eddy, such an affair is bound for tragedy. And I love tragedies."

“You've lost me."

The bun only returned with a long, wanting sigh. “Ahh, I haven't seen that kind of night life in so long. You know I heard Anderly invites all types to his drunken affairs. Thespians, playwrights, musicians. My crowd, my people."

“And this is. . .a tragedy?"

Aloise snickered. “You're trying to rob one of the most powerful men in Vallen. Exactly how well do you think that will go?"

Edwin shrugged, forcing a laugh from Aloise.

“Precisely. Oh, and yet, I can't turn away an opportunity to mingle with zhe fancier crowds. I miss it, I do."

“This sounds like you're taking me up on the offer."

“Better than zhticking around this stuffy place."

Aloise set the wine aside, pulling in one of his legs, hands to knees. “But. . ."

Edwin grumbled. There was always a but.

“A man comes into a brothel and does nothing. That's a strange look, no?"

Edwin raised a hand. “It's not necessary."

Aloise chittered, head wobbling with laughs. “Oh, it is, sieur. I've something of a reputation to hold around here. And besides, you don't desire unwanted attention, I take it?"

The taller man grumbled. That was. . . technically right.

Aloise made a gesture. “You walk out without so much as a loose belt and you might raise questions, mm? People might probe, might wonder why you got up to so much trouble only to do nothing."

The bun wiggled his leg. “The guards, zhey get. . . curious."

Ugh, by the Sol. Edwin raised a gloved hand, sighing. “Okay, all right, I get the idea."

“Do you?"

Edwin rubbed his eyes. Did this really have to happen? And what would Pik say?

Are you kidding? She'd probably encourage it, or try to join in, he mused.

“Yes," he finally said. Suppose this Aloise wasn't entirely wrong, anyway, and he did confirm some of Anderly's men came by. This whole idea of his was on shaky ground already, and if word got out he was trying to steal from the Count, regardless of the items in question, well, another on the list of growing enemies.

“Oh, don't look so disappointed," chimed Aloise. “This is well worth your time."

Maybe. Edwin found this sort of thing. . . distracting. Not in a good way, either. He had enough trouble keeping Pik at bay, what with the damn imp trying to straddle him at every other opportunity. Getting all bedded up with a posh lad was probably more trouble than it was worth. Always was.

“Mind if I have some of that?" said Edwin, pointing to Aloise bottle of dark wine. The bun's eyes fluttered.

“Oh, of course."

Aloise swiftly obliged Edwin with a glass, who downed it with a quick gulp. Not as harsh as he preferred, but it would do. Enough to dull his senses, at least. Guards around the brothel Rozen put him at unease, but perhaps he could afford to let his guard down for just a moment.

As he drank, Aloise gestured at his attired. “Sieur, please, zhomething a little more comfortable, no? Unless you prefer me to undress you, mm?"

Edwin didn't like the idea of those delicate fingers getting ahold of any of his arsenal. Might make things problematic, eh?

“I'll manage," he said.

He unfastened his long overcoat and set it aside carefully on one of the room's spare chairs. Carefully, because the inner pockets were lined with small explosives, specialized cast-rounds, silver knives, and handarms. Strapped to his shirt were the duo of Solarian revolvers and a Stozzl blunderbuss. The rest were back at the rented tavern room – not a good look to carry your weapons so bluntly.

Aloise's ears perked, watching his “client" unravel, studying the weapons with a curious nose wiggle. Oh Eddy, what did you get up to?

“A fine zhet, but you know, I prefer a more intimate approach," said Aloise, coming to Edwin. “There's so much to grip and hold."

Edwin turned to the effete male, who stood only an inch shorter than him. His lithe chest was close, exposed, soft fur pressed into his clothed torso while Edwin unfastened the rest of his weapon straps.

“Let's uh, keep it simple for now," Edwin commented, the warmth of proximity filling him as Aloise put a hand to his hip. Hmm, interesting. Was it the wine? He felt a buzz, but a different sort, as if standing in the presence of this effeminate bun was drawing him in.

“Don't tell me you're nervous," Aloise chittered, smirking. Edwin noted he had fairly sharp teeth, like razors. Odd for a lapine.

“Just practical," said Edwin.

A tongue click. “If you inzhist. It's your silver."

Aloise wasted little time, and with beguiling swiftness slipped to his knees, adopting a demure, submissive stance as he glanced up, smirking evolving to devilish smile.

“You are a welcome break from the dull hogs trouncing around here, I must say. . ."

Edwin took a breath, stirring. Thank goodness for the wine. “No need for flattery."

“You think I'm lying? Aww, Eddy. Let me show you otherwise."

Just relax, Edwin mused. No reason to get twitchy.

He watched as Aloise unfastened his belt, pulled down his trousers, and revealed his bristling shaft, pale root flopping into the warm room air. Aloise licked his lips, offering a coo of approval. “Ooo, sieur. . ."

Edwin grumbled, but eased up as cool, soft lips touched his tip. Aloise obliged the root with warm, suckling kisses, gentle yet seductive, keeping his pink iris' affixed to Edwin. His hand cupped testes while the other ran fingers across the veiny flesh, instilling electric warmth throughout the root.

Well, that wasn't so bad. Aloise simpered, sticking his tongue out and allowing the bellend to rest on the pink flesh, taking slow, delicate licks. “Ahhn. . ."

Hmm, he was certainly more subtle than Pik who went about this like she was trying to devour the thing. Aloise huffed on it, enticing the flesh, before bringing the first inch into his suckling, soft maw. The pressure was perfect, lips wrapped around the tip with precise care, where Aloise began to toss his head in slow, gentle rhythms.

“Nmmmmm. . ."

Aloise's low moans sent rumbles through the shaft, his ears wiggling as he worked, hands slipping to Edwin's waist as he serviced the flank. In one slow, controlled motion, he pushed his head to Edwin's threshold, burying the entire thing into his tight, practiced throat. This, at least, forced a buckling groan from the man, who watched in surprised disbelief.

“Mmghmff. . ."

Alright, Edwin mused, I suppose Pik has competition. . .

Aloise released him with a sloppy 'pop,' a trail of drool stick to his lips, bridging to tip. “Mmm, you're needier than you think, Eddy."

Edwin grunted. “Urgh. Just shut up an suck," he said, more pleading than anything. Once again, Aloise kissed the tip, rubbing it against his features.

“Nmmm, yes sir."

Edwin closed his eyes and felt dizzy, in a good way. The room started to fade, filled with the rambunctious sounds of Aloise's suckling.

-*-

When Edwin peeled open his eyes, he was in a comfortable bed, overtaken by the gentle scent of perfume. With a start, he pushed up, feeling for his gun. Absent! He felt a spike of panic, until realization returned. Oh. The room.

“You're quite a tired thing," said a familiar voice. It was Aloise. Edwin pulled his eyes to the bun, who, this time, was not in his black leggings, and rather, a form fitting attire one might see on a prince. A buttoned shirt and silk black waistcoat matched form hugging pants, all of which revealed his svelte, yet curvy, figure.

“What. . ."

Aloise put a finger to lips. “Shhhh. Rest."

Edwin didn't listen. “I'd rather not." He shuffled up, only to realize he was absent of clothing.

“I'm. . . what did you do?" he said, tone shifting. Aloise waived him off.

“Eddy, please. Took the liberty of having your 'attire' washed. Settle, sieur, settle. Your weapons are here, you're not in danger."

“So you say," Edwin grunted.

“I do," returned Aloise, coming to the bedside. “Mmm."

His pink eyes roamed over Edwin's exposed, scarred torso. “You should be zhanking me. You're not getting into the Count's grounds looking like a beggar with guns."

“It works better than you think."

“Funny man."

Aloise turned, going to his room corner, where a chest lay. He opened the ornate furnishing, bending rather excessively to show off his plump haunches and fluff, wiggling tail, before retrieving a hat, shaped similar to Edwin's own, save it was regal, made of finer fabric.

“So much work to do. . . here."

He tossed it to Edwin, who caught it.

“And this is?"

Aloise tilted his head. “Taste."

He glanced out the window. “Anderly's little ball is in two suns. That's hardly enough time to get you ready, but, I suppose I like a challenge."

Here, Edwin blinked. “Getting me ready?"

Aloise ignored him, sauntering over. He pushed a finger into Edwin's chin, scoffing. “Agh, that damn stubble. . ."

“Hey," said Edwin, tone sharpening. “Enough."

A chittering laugh. “Settle down, Eddy. I'm going to help you."

He blinked. “. . .are you now?"

“Well," said the other, leaning on hip, “What's the alternative? Talk to the guards? Have you arrested? Go back to shaking down boring clients, spending my pence on the miserable local theater showings? My god, if I see Dance in Dallia's Rain one more time. . ."

For a moment, Edwin felt at ease, as though Aloise's presence was enough to settle him.

“How lucky for me," said Edwin, not entirely convinced.

Aloise grinned. “Oh sieur, you have no idea."

-*-

It took some haggling and extra set of silvers to “convince" the brothel Rozen to allow Aloise out with a client, in the sense they wanted to protect their “investment." Suppose it made sense, can't make money without a warm body. But after some smooth words by the bun and Edwin's generous donation, the two were free from the stalking eyes of the guards. It meant Edwin was broke and it also meant he and Pik had to make this work or it was back to footing it in the woods for a while, but, it was a step forward, right?

They returned to Sullivan's Clamp, the shoddy tavern on the southern part of Vallen. Much to Aloise's distress, it lacked much of the refineries he was so used to.

“Blegh," he chided. “Zhey at least have hot water here?"

“Sometimes."

Edwin was quick to hurry himself and Aloise through the small tavern crowd and to their room, doing his best to keep the bun out of view. Once they were in room, it was filled with the gurgling noises and smoky fog of bluish colors, Pik's cauldron hissing with magic.

“Jeeez-wa," said Pik, not looking up from her work. “Took you long enough. The hell was the wait for!?"

“Uh, Pik."

Aloise hid his mouth and expression of shock, eyeing his surroundings with growing revulsion. “Oh. . . my. . ."

Pik's ears wiggled and she glanced at the newcomer. “Wug?"

Her wide, yellow eyes squinted. “Uh. Wow. Who's the pretty boy?"

She hopped over her ingredients, waltzing up to the effete male, giving him a long once over. Aloise returned it with a mix of distaste and concern.

“Wait, da' fugwa? Ed!" she exclaimed, pointing at Aloise.

“Why the hell you'd bring back an Incubi?"