This chapter was written in collaboration with Scylla.
Scylla walked into the compound and wrinkled her nose. She saw him deep in thought. He was trying to hide it from her, but he was scared.
Servants went about their way, with little notice, preparing the evening meal. Something special was cooking tonight as the smell of meat and pungent herbs filled the air.
“Well.” Scylla shrugged, reaching up from the top shelf and handing Amon a robe. “You need to wear something a little more presentable before Allagan nobility. If you don’t believe me, you can ask your giiiiirlfriend on your tomephone.”
“Oh wait.” Scylla smirked as she went to change. “You don’t have one yet. I suppose you don’t need a phone with those ears.”
Amon wrinkled his nose as she handed him the garment.
“Another ugly robe. Do you think I’m just going to put it on? What did you do to it?” Amon opened the hem to inspect the robes intently, sure he would find it crawling with bugs or dripping with some sort of itching serum.
“Stop yapping, and just get dressed, hound.” Scylla replied from the bathroom. “Just be happy if my father doesn’t submit you for a chimerical trial.”
“What? Is that even legal?” Amon shot an unnerved look at the bathroom, gathering up the robes in his fists.
He figured he may as well not fight the matter. So, the boy tossed off his shirt right there, leaving it on the floor. Peering at the robes, he could see that they were a bit of a puzzle to put on.
Figures. Everything had to be so complicated.
He did the best he could manage without any guidance, slipping it on over his unceremonious trousers and boots.