In order to be granted an audience with the local lord, I had to look the part. That meant shopping for clothes presentable in court. I’d have been happy with my Army fatigues, but Hani insisted that a little tarting up was mandatory, or I’d never get through the door to see the Baron. 

No one here actually called him a Baron. His actual rank, when they pronounced it, sounded like the bastard lovechild of Russian, Arabic, and a nasty sinus infection, and the translation talisman rendered it out as something like “minor lord of these lands, both above and below.” I had to consult the Goddess on the matter, and after a patently disturbing exchange that involved my pen yanking my fingers around like a puppet, we settled on Baron. Henceforth, the translation amulet rendered the phlegm-inflected title as Baron for the sake of convenience. 

There were three tailors in town: one for the peasants, one for the rank and file adventurers, and one who catered to noble guests. As a Knight, I was technically considered a peer, so I had no trouble getting an appointment on short notice. 

The dwarf who ran the shop, a fellow by the name of Ghut (sounds like “good”), was short, but stout. He had no visible handle or spout, but it didn’t take much to get him all steamed up and hear him shout. He was constantly angry at everything: the weather, his assistant, the cloth, gravity, me. Mainly me though, because I had the audacity to be twice his height. 

“Just how the hell am I supposed to fit you for a jacket if I can’t reach above your damned waist, eh Longshanks?”

“If I’d have known it would be a problem, I’d have brought a stepladder,” I shot back. 

“Listen here, you long-ass bitch,” he snarled. 

“Don’t get short with me, Mister.”

I’d dealt with guys like him before. You’ll never get them to like you, but if you give as good as you get and show them you’re not a pushover, they might at least respect you. As a First Sergeant, I had to be able to bluff and bluster with the best of them, and part of my repertoire was an endless supply of short jokes. Since I was a head taller than just about everyone I’ve ever had to work with, I got to use them often. I managed to make it through the whole fitting without repeating myself once. 

I swear there’s an inversely proportional relationship between the usefulness of any given word or phrase and the likelihood I’d remember it. I had to stop and think about my own name on some days, but I could rattle off every general officer in Napoleon’s army without trying. 

Credit where credit is due: Ghut did good work. In a little under three hours, he had me in something not entirely unlike an Edwardian-era suit. The trousers were a tan twill material, dyed a few shades darker than khaki. The jacket and waistcoat were both a brilliant emerald green that was actually pretty decent camouflage out here on the plains. Everything was cut a little slimmer than I’d have liked, and the jacket had tails that brushed the tops of my knee-high patent leather boots, but I thought I looked fairly dapper, all things considered. 

“Oh, look at you,” Hani said, giving me a lazy smile that reminded me of nothing so much as a tiger sizing up a tasty deer. “If I didn’t know better, I’d mistake you for someone respectable.”

“I’ve had my tongue inside your naughty bits, my love,” I said. “We both know that’s a damn lie.”

Hani gasped, turned bright red, and punched my shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise. 

Ghut threw his head back and roared with laughter. It took a solid minute for him to regain his composure. 

“How about you, missy. Will you be needing anything?” he asked, his expression far more lecherous than I was comfortable with. 

“I already have formal attire,” she huffed. “But thank you for your kind offer.”

Hani turned on her heel and stormed out of the shop. I panicked for a moment and nearly rushed after her, until I remembered that I could feel what she felt. To my surprise, her indignation was mostly a show. Truth be told, she found the little dwarf deeply unpleasant, and the intimate reminder that I knew her in ways that he never would pleased her to no end. That didn’t mean she didn’t have something wicked in mind for payback. 

“Ah well, it was worth a shot,” Ghut said. “Gimme a few hours to get the permanent stitches in and you can come pick up your monkey suit. I’ll expect payment in full on the spot.”