Fiona looked up at the two-story apartment of bright red brick and black-painted window frames, and took a deep breath of floral-scented air.

  She was home. This cozy, small series of apartments sitting on the edge of the park in the nicer part of town, with a few large maple-like trees with teases of gold and orange on the leaves now, was her small but place she could call her own. Small potted flowers lined the walkway to the front door, with the flowers seemingly shifting colors as she walked by, from blue to royal purposes. “What a day. I’m beat, Greg. You?”

  “I’m quite done with travelling and uncouth placeholder kings, yes,” he replied casually, and sniffed the air gently. “Granny’s been busy with the decor. I also think her husband made brisket, seasoned well, too. I do love a good brisket with mashed tubers.”

  “You’re a regular meat and potatoes guy, aren’t you?” Fiona said with a smile. He shrugged lightly.

  “I do have my comforts, yes.”

  The lock clicked without resistance, and Fiona pushed the chestnut-colored door open to her apartment, a building of wooden trusses, a few accent paintings of landscapes, and bright lit halls. She was greeted by a pair of ears peeking over the counter of the office window, and she let out a cooing sound. “Bonnie, I’m back!”

  That pair of ears turned into a pair of blue eyes, bright white and orange fur, and Bonnie, her part-time mage and full-time friend. She was a lean and bouncy kitsune that stood almost as tall as her, and she let out a squeal of delight as Fiona gave her a loving hug. She spent more than a second nuzzling at that silky soft fur.

  “Fiona, goodness, I thought you weren’t supposed to be back for a few days! What, was the party lacking to your tastes over at the palace?” Bonnie teased. “Oh my, you’re still in your armor, let’s get that off, and get cozy! I see that my freshener runes are still working, and with a high charge left!”

  “Yeah, it was great to not smell like…you know, smelly monster carapace, swamps, or the greasy, slimy scent emanating off His Highness,” she said as Bonnie snapped her claws a couple of times.

  “Oh! Forgot this one doesn’t work by simple telekinetics, I need the wand.” Bonnie held up her silver-clad enchanting wand, with a blue crystal embedded in the tip. The armor buckles and snaps all came off effortlessly, and the metal pieces all hovered in the air. With a twist of her wrist, Bonnie guided the levitating pieces toward the armor stand in a nearby walk-in closet. With a quick flourish, Bonnie set the armor pieces snugly onto a wooden mannequin. Armor was a statement on fashion, not just practicality to Fiona.

  “Ah, thanks, Bonnie! I feel a little sweaty, but nothing a little freshening couldn’t fix!” Fiona declared with a deep sound of relief, now adorned in her soft doeskin tunic, stretchy leggings, and the light layer of padding she wore underneath the armor to keep blunt blows from ruining her day. She tossed her gauntlets and greaves onto a shelf in the closet. “How was housesitting?”

  “Almost too quiet, I just did my rune work in the mechanical shop that Granny’s husband has downstairs. Personally, I’d have preferred to be in the field giving Douglas a walloping, but I heard you had that handled,” Bonnie replied, sounding content.

  “Yep. Doug was…kind of a pushover,” Fiona admitted. “He did the crying bit, too, after I beat him senseless. He said he was framed—like dude, your kobolds drove people off their land! Dragons must think people are stupid.”

  “Hey now, it wasn’t that long ago that Douglas was a part of the Kingdom,” Bonnie corrected, but her teeth were on edge. “Even dragons are people, too. They’re just a little…bigger.” Fiona unbelted the rest of her gear, including her grappling hook, and set it on the shelves.

  She glanced around, to take inventory. A few other armor sets were stored there–one that was ruby red metal with glowing blue runes. Adjacent to it was a bluish-colored scale set that almost looked like fish scales. The last one was a plain green tunic with mail mesh with a funky lengthy green cap sitting on the head of the mannequin. A broad sword with a blue grip, and a yellow gem in the center was stashed on a rack on the wall–that one was still a favorite. At least they were practical.

  Fiona let out a sound of delight, now free of all the cumbrance. “Bonnie, your enchantment work is top notch, that armor didn’t have a single spot of rust or corrosion!”

  “Aw, thanks! Anyway, welcome back, you two!” Bonnie said cheerily, before her eyes lit up at Greg. “What about you, was the field trip worth it?”

  “Doing paperwork for the guild and Fiona? Ah, it’s just routine stuff Bonnie. Where’s Tucker, by the way?” Greg asked, glancing around the quiet apartment.

  “Oh, the kitty is out on a walk with Granny. I swear that hellcat only behaves for her and Fiona! He tried to use my tail as a chew toy!” Bonnie complained. She smoothed the wrinkles in her flowing skirt with light gold embroidery. “Fiona, tell me details! I heard you gave a mighty beating to Douglas the Red!”

  “Oh, you want to hear the story?” Fiona grinned. “I’ll give you the short version right now. I left him crying in a swamp, and he signed over the terms of surrender,” she said proudly while puffing her chest. “He was kind of a pushover! And beating up those big-eyed little kobolds? I kinda felt bad about it, almost! But when we got home…yeah, there was a snag.”

  “What kind?” Bonnie tilted an ear in curiosity.

  “Greybeard Junior—or Barry, his son that no one seems to mention much, is in charge. Rikkard said nothing except to a few people. As soon as we walked in, Barry stuck me with a tax bill for all the loot sitting in storage! And a death curse.”

  She was hoping she could slip that one by Bonnie by treating it casually, but Bonnie’s eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, say that again?”

  “Uh, I might have missed a teeny, tiny portion of the contract on the task of taking care of Doug. Yeah, I have a year to pay off a massive tax debt due to some obscure wealth redistribution law, or, I could be corporally repossessed." She left out the death curse part. "I mean it's no big deal, it's money, right? I just need to sell--"

  “No big deal!?” Bonnie shouted, her tail looking like a bottle brush, her muzzle movement exaggerated. “Are you serious, Fiona?! This is outrageous! How can he do this?!”

  “Fine print, and old laws no ones have used in two hundred years,” Greg grunted. “We should keep this on the down low.”

  Bonnie eyed Greg, teeth gritted and pointing a claw at him. “Oh, no. I’m burning down that palace where that jackass is sitting—”

  “He used a mark, Bonnie!” Greg countered. “One that cannot be easily broken. We need to keep our wits about us. This is not one you can force his hand on. Rough count, we can get rid of the dragon hoard and raise enough cash. But it will take time.”

  "Bonnie, he didn't just stiff me, he stiffed the whole guild!" Fiona interjected, letting out just a little bit of fury and frustration. "But Greg here is a good voice of reason. I can’t beat all my problems in the face, unlike monsters. Hammer time always works on monsters,” she suggested with an oozing smile.

  "Attacking a king is generally frowned upon, Fiona. You did right by not giving in to your urges," Greg offered as a small concession.

  "But not mine," Bonnie uttered with her teeth gritted, and a dazzle of blue light dancing in her hand. "He is so dead!"

  "Regicide is also not the solution, Bonnie," Greg cautioned. Bonnie's muzzle curled into an evil smile.

  "Well, how about a few hexes that might change his mind. That moneymaker face of his looks ripe for ruining. Or maybe a case of warts… you know, on his—"

  "Okay, okay, yes, we get the idea,” Fiona interjected rapidly. “Look, the solution is already in our hands. I can sell this stuff. I ran a business before, and it was great!" Well, for a while, at any rate.

  “You seem way too chill with this.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  "I’m not!" Fiona declared, punching her fist into her open hand. Bonnie's ears turned up just a little bit. “I am very good at zeroing tax bills. And we have a year. It’s totally doable, and we’re not out of options. Bonnie, I’ve faced deadly monsters and deadlier traps. I know you’re worried about me, but I think I’m going to be okay. Please, for my sake, don’t treat this like I’m already doomed, okay?”

  Bonnie shook her head. “This is not okay. This is so outrageous, it defies logic.”

  “And we need to take care of it. This conversation doesn’t leave the three of us, okay? Last thing I want people to hear is that the heroine got jailed because she committed tax evasion. Which, we'll also be contesting, because it's a hundred percent bogus," she added hastily. “Okay, we will talk later about this one. Now, can we please move back to a normal conversation? Did I get any messages? Anything important happen while I was gone?”

  Bonnie smoothed her fur, and let out a hissing exhale through her muzzle. “I wish I had your bravery, Fiona. I really do. But if that’s what you want, I can do that. Now, I filtered through some messages that were dropped off here. A few are suitors from…sheesh, Bar’nathi? Do the elves have mail couriers on the plains?” She wrinkled her muzzle at that. “Also, a Stonelord from the Karave mountains left a similar note. I don't really see. you dating a dwarven, though.

  “Suitors? What century is this? I go beat up a couple of monsters, men are fawning over me and they don’t even know me! Burn those ones. Anything else?” Fiona asked.

  “There were a few bills, I paid those from your bank, nothing too big there. Oh, and a letter here from Jake.”

  “Jake?” Fiona gasped. She’d met up with him briefly when she got back into town, but he’d been super busy taking care of the post-battle actions. “What’d he say?”

  “Don’t know, didn’t read it. I figured that one might be a little…private,” Bonnie said with a foxy grin. Fiona was feeling a little rosy faced, too. More than her hair. “Ooh, someone has a crush?” Bonnie asked with sharp eyes and an even sharper smile.

  “Oh, now you wanna get nosy, you lovable vixen?” Fiona responded with feigned annoyance, and Bonnie laughed in that high-pitched cackle that she’d come to know her by. “Jake got me in the guild when I was a nobody. He taught me a lot. Dateable, yes. Me, dating him? I dunno.”

  “Just dateable, you say. He’s the envy of the town! Even Lucy, first in line to the throne, was turned down by him. I think he’s very picky. Anyway, I have his, and a few other odds and ends on the desk,” Bonnie replied, gesturing to a small stack of papers on the table, before looking at Greg. “Hey, are you busy this afternoon? I need to go over some paperwork with you, too. I wanted to get a lease on the mage shop I was planning on opening. I had some ideas!”

  Fiona nodded. "Yeah, why don't you guys head out for a bit? I need time to destress, and figure out some plans. Could we meet up this evening over at McFly’s place? Oh right, money--"

  "Take a small victory lap, I’ll take care of this one Greg assured her. “I think one dinner out is reasonable.”

  "Alright. But, I can't spend money willy nilly until we work past this,” Fiona proposed, and Greg nodded confidently.

  The sound of a rattling bell rang through the air, the sound of something panting, and a loud call of a cat came from the hallway. Greg’s eyes went wide and he glanced at the door. “Oh no.”

  A deep, female voice called up the stairs. “Fiona, I heard you were home!” Her voice was followed by the sound of multiple legs bounding up the stairs and a primal yowl. Greg broke out into a run, and tried to dart for the balcony doorway. Fiona would have suggested the stairs heading out. Flights out of balconies were not pleasant.

  Before he could get more than a few feet, a bundle of black and blue fur, blue eyes, and massive paws skidded past the doorway and pounced on Greg’s back with a crackle and a flash of blue light. The massive beast the size of a large dog teleported from the door frame to his current resting position, pinning Greg to the floor Greg grappled with the massive feline beast, trying to ward off the sandpaper tongue and adoring eyes of her pet phase cat, Tucker. Fiona giggled, that furball of joy loved it when Greg was around.

  “Ow! Fiona, get this menace off me!” he pleaded, even as that sandpaper tongue grated along his neck and face. “Tucker, stop it! I’m gonna get abrasion burns from you, c’mon!”

  “Someone missed him,” Bonnie giggled while holding her belly, trying not to laugh. Fiona joined in as Greg gave up and sprawled out onto the floor, with that beast now curling up on his back and continuing to lick him affectionately. “Fiona, you should intervene, before Tucker figures out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Gregory roll.”

  Fiona took the initiative and scratched the neck of the black and blue striped feline, who let out a happy purr and kneaded his claws into Greg’s back. “Tucker, you walked right by mommy, I need cuddles!” The cat, however, let out a soft meow and continued to use Greg like a pillow.

  “This is not helping, you red-haired elven fiend,” Gregory groaned, and Tucker let out a yowl of mild protest. “You do this to no one else, cat.”

  “Tucker, stop using him for a napping spot! I like Greg enough to not wish for him to serve as your cushion!” Fiona scolded. She pulled the sleek cat off Greg, with an errant spark of energy trailing off her fingers. She was used to it, and Tucker rubbed against her arm and chest, nuzzling affectionately. “Aw, I missed you too, Tucker. Mommy’s home, and for a while this time around!”

  “Oh, is poor Greg serving as a floor mat again?” The woman from before rounded the doorway, Fiona glanced at the bleached blonde hair and brown eyes of Gemma Locke, her landlord and occasional lap holder of Tucker, and smiled warmly. The crows feet at the corners of her eyes could not dim her expression.

  “Hi Granny, thanks for keeping an eye on Tucker! I pulverized Douglas the Red, took his stuff, and made it home early. I have some post-adventuring paperwork to fill out, and there were a few snags along the way.”

  “Fiona dear, only you could nonchalantly talk about beating up a vile beast threatening the kingdom, like you were talking about a job,” Gemma said with a pleased look, surveilling the apartment. “Hmm. This is cozier than I remember. I love the decor, it feels like you’ve finally made this a home, and not just a place to crash for the night.”

  “I took your advice, it needed sprucing up. Ow, Tucker, no nipping,” she protested as her cat nibbled on her finger when she stroked his head. The cat let out a snicker and bounced over to the couch, where he took up a hefty portion of the seating space. Fiona straightened and brushed a few errant hairs off her clothing. “So, anything new from you? The flowers out front look fantastic!”

  “Yes, I thought the ember flowers and the moon tulips would look great next to each other, and bring some color to the brickwork. Anyway, I must be off, Bonnie already gave me the deposit for the month. I must say, I’m surprised you don’t have a roommate!”

  “Eh, I might eventually,” she said in a soft deflection. It would save on some living costs, and she knew a few people who might be interested in having a place with her. She just saved the Kingdom like it was a regular day job. “Anyway, I’ll catch up with you later, Granny!”

  “Looking forward to it, dear. Bonnie, try to keep her out of trouble? She seems to find–and fight–a lot of it,” Gemma said with a smile, and the kitsune nodded politely.

  “Of course, Mrs. Locke. We’ll see you around!” she called out as Gemma closed the door gently, and footsteps disappeared to the third floor of the apartment set. “Alright Fiona, I guess we’ll head out too, Tucker might think we’re going to steal all the attention.” The cat yawned from the couch, and lowered his head close to the cushion, licking its lips before closing his eyes for an instant nap.

  “Let’s meet at six?” Greg proposed while brushing off the loose cat fur. “Tucker, you’re a demon, I need to clean up again.” Fiona swore she saw a slight smirk on the cat’s face before he closed his eyes and curled up.

  Once everyone had departed, she finished ungearing, and tossing on some cozy clothes, a hoodie and leggings. As for the scepter of probable evil, she tossed it into a secure safe in the back of the closet, and once again heard the scratchy whispers from it.

  I can make you fly! And give you sleek, green scales! You just need to want it! It pleaded.

  “Stupid magical artifacts. As soon as I find a wizard who won’t be tempted by evil things, I’m melting you down into a paperweight,” she growled before slamming the safe closed. “Don’t suppose you cure death curses, do you?”

  No, I can’t. Hey, there’s no nightlight in here, I’m scared! she heard in a muffled cry. She let out a soft sigh.

  “Tucker, I’ll level with you. Mages and magic have a flair for being too dramatic,” she called out, before flopping down on the couch. Tucker instantly transplanting on her lap–as if he could even fit, since he was far too big. She took in the tan brickwork, wooden truss roof, and the small decorations of the apartment

  It was home. Far more than the places she’d scraped and scratched every coin she had together to keep from being homeless, in the early days. She used a bit of telekinesis–a little trick she’d learned from Bonnie–to grab the small stack of papers and glanced through them. Jake’s letter was far less scandalous than Bonnie had suggested, with a quick note of congratulations on her success in fighting the dragon lord’s armies, and the minimal losses involved. They wanted her for a proper private party on the weekend, too.

  It feels good to be wanted by others. It wasn’t a feeling that she realized she’d needed it, until after she got to Cepalune. Tucker put a restraining paw on her leggings and looked at her with half-lidded eyes before yawning. This cat did not want her to get up, and she stroked the feline’s fur before reading through the rest of the papers.

  That elemental-powered jacuzzi might be tempting, but it was a splurge she couldn’t do now, and she pouted her lip. Splurging was going to have to wait, and she felt that itch of getting things. Nope. Don’t do it, Fiona. Focus on solving this problem first. Because, you know, my spending urges may indeed kill me.

  After a few moments, she nudged Tucker to examine the closet, circled the armor stands, past the flirty attire, and found something that screamed a little more professional.

  A flowing tan jacket, black slacks, a dark vest, and an emerald-colored tie. She never understood why people said girls didn’t need to wear a tie, but she smiled when she saw the outfit she’d bought on a whim at a thrift store, she knew she needed it. She felt the fabric with her fingers–soft and cozy, but still formal-looking. She hardened her expression and creased her lithe frame as she thought of it as her new armor.

  I can win on more than one battlefield, she thought as she set it aside for the morning. In the meantime, she glanced over the more breezy, and revealing attire for the evening, and chose a blouse, skirt, and leggings that suited her. But you know what? It’s time to have some fun, first.