They were a sensation.

  The seamstress in Isekai made those large tents on one condition. She wanted the world to know how men were truly supposed to dress, and she was an ardent fan of Jane Austen. To Ioha’s great surprise, Isjase applauded her idea and promptly had her moved to a much larger workshop. After that, half a dozen tailors arrived through the gate, and now both Ioha and Harvali were part of Isjase’s latest business venture. The Terendala house gained a thirty percent share of the subsidiary, the seamstress another fifteen and Isjase kept fifty-four. Ioha was handed a percent as some kind of finder’s fee.

  “Does it feel odd?” Ioha commented when Harvali failed to close his tailcoat over his stomach. Their greatcoats had already been taken away by servants.

  “It’s not very practical,” came the response.

  It wasn’t. Heavy rain had moved the garden party inside a large greenhouse, which suited Ioha perfectly. A greatcoat hid most of the clothes he wanted to showcase. Knee-high boots came in handy for the walk between carriages and the relocated party.

  “You really wear this in Outworld?”

  Ioha shook his head. “A long time ago, and most couldn’t afford it then.”

  Harvali looked around them. “Then why?”

  Ioha followed his gaze. “Because even if it looks foreign, it’s still something a noble would wear, even here.” He pointed at a group of young men who stared at them. “It’s a little like your uniforms, which is deliberate.” With a grin, he slapped Harvali on his back. “You’ll get to wear modern style clothes for our business meetings later. Guaranteed to be outright outlandish.”

  “Are they practical?”

  “Not really,” Ioha agreed. “A matter of class. We still make that distinction. What most wear, even the rich and powerful, would look like commoner clothes to you, because it is commoner clothes, even though morbidly expensive.” He tapped a warning on Harvali’s shoulder. “OK, time for marketing.”

  The most flamboyantly clad of the group had separated and came walking to them. “It’s a pleasure seeing you here, Sir Terendala.” He shot Ioha a look. “Your associate is?”

  “My friend. Sir Questingtank.”

  Rumours of his sainthood would filter into the capital, but it was simply too populated for something that happened a month’s travel away to have any immediate and recognisable impact here. Someone had become a saint, and someone was Harvali’s friend. Combining the two would take time.

  “I am from Isekai,” Ioha said. “Outworlder,” he added. A knighted outworlder should add at least some fuel to the rumours.

  Around them, women under thirty stared with curious admiration and those over forty with disapproval. Humans were humans, even in another world. The men looked at the greeting with a mixture of admiration, envy and open dislike.

  “Outworlder attire?”

  And the sales pitch came for free. “To a degree,” Harvali said. “It’s what they would wear in a society like ours,” he added, and looked at Ioha for support.

  “In a cityscape like here, yes. This is what a gentleman would wear,” Ioha said. “Since this is a garden party, it’s also appropriate for a visit to a country estate.”

  The young lordling offered Ioha an appraising look. As a mere knight, he should wait for his turn to speak. “And apart from a garden party?”

  Harvali needed to grab this ball. Ioha couldn’t speak twice.

  “Evening dress or formal wear for a ball is different,” Harvali said. Then he winked at Ioha. “There’s formal wear for outworld court audiences as well.”

  So you studied while we were in Isekai. Ioha slowly understood Harvali’s earlier questions. They could just as well have chosen clothes from anywhere from the early modern era to Victorian fashion. The regency era was but a brief moment in Europe’s fashion history. Can’t really tell him it’s because she’s an Austen fanatic, Ioha thought, and recalled the exited voice when the seamstress lost herself in her version of an ideal man. Besides, regency clothes, and to a certain degree Victorian clothes suited this society. Different, but not entirely outlandish. Wool and linen as well. Neither cotton nor silk existed in this world as far as Ioha knew.

  The group around them grew, and questions arrived faster than Ioha could handle.

  “Yes, we have tailors approved by Isekai. I will arrange for the preparations,” Harvali answered one young man.

  “No, I’m sorry. Until we fully learn the local fabric, we need to import cloth from Isekai,” Ioha told another. He didn’t have to lie. The federation knew how to produce first class linen cloth, but wool was a different matter. The weather simply wasn’t cold enough to drive that development to the same extent as in Europe. There were large sheep farms north of Isekai that hadn’t been there when he still studied at Spellsword Academy, and they produced wool at an industrial scale without any machinery. Magic, while not suitable for large-scale industries, plugged the hole for cloth production.

  Harvali tapped Ioha’s shoulder. It was time to leave before the party regressed into a marketing festival. Noble houses would send servants to the Terendala estate in the days to come. For the time being the two of them only needed to attend a few balls to cement their reputation.

  ***

  “Having fun?” Harvali asked.

  “Very,” Ioha lied. This was his fourth ballroom in two weeks, and the fifth time he acted as Harvali’s sidekick.

  “Young Lord Terendala, a moment of your time?”

  Harvali turned his head with the easy politeness born from a life as the heir to a powerful domain. “How can I help you, Lord Seradanil?”

  Ioha watched them walk away to talk undisturbed.

  Balls were sensibly unarmed, but he felt naked without even as much as his sidearm. Three years earlier he’d take a wide berth around anyone armed with a knife in a city, and Ioha found some joy in how little time it took for him to descend into barbarity. He wasn’t alone missing the familiar weight at his waist. Nobles in their thirties and younger swept their hands to remove a hilt that wasn’t there when they passed each other or turned to face someone calling out to them.

  One of them, a girl in her early twenties, marched up to him, just like she had done at the last ball just when Harvali made his excuses, and they both left for his residence. With brisk steps, she navigated her way between couples and small groups of the younger guests until she finally stood and looked up.

  “Are you Sir Questingtank?”

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  A direct approach if nothing else. “I am. To what do I owe this honour?”

  “I am Almina Wari. Are you looking for a marriage partner?” She wore her dress like a house uniform. Most likely an intermediary then.

  Wari, haven’t I heard that name before? “I am not. I am engaged to Nakagawa Ai.” Technically, true. Ai stated they were engaged once, and he didn’t disagree. They broke up from being boy and girlfriend, but the engagement wasn’t formally called off. And formal engagements belonged to a world his great-grandfather would have found obsolete, but who cared?

  “I see. I’ll inform her then.” The Almina girl leaned over another girl who had finally caught up and whispered something to her. When the girl nodded and left Almina returned her attention to Ioha. “I have not heard anything about your engagement. Wergaist noble?”

  “Isekai.”

  “The new domain?”

  It wasn’t all that new any more, and it wasn’t a federation domain. “State, the republic of Isekai.”

  “And Lord Clevasti hasn’t acted yet?” She swept the ballroom with her eyes, but Ioha recognised the ruse.

  Nice try. “Act, by invading a peaceful nation?” He followed her gaze. They were the object of attention from quite a few onlookers.

  “Before he loses more territory?”

  “None was his to begin with,” Ioha retorted. She was clearly baiting him.

  “You sure he’d agree to that?”

  “Why should I care. He either agrees with reality, or we decimate his military.”

  She dropped her pretence and met his eyes again. “Didn’t you say you were peaceful?”

  “We haven’t been attacked yet.”

  “And if you were?”

  “Ten years ago Wergaist would walk right over Isekai. Five years ago, they still had a chance. Now?” Ioha grinned. “You’re right. He might still be able to defend his capital.” See, I’ll take your bait, chew it up and spit it out again.

  The look she gave him was filled with curiosity. “Derina never told me.”

  Ah, Harvali’s friend. His sister? “Isekai is changing. Always was.”

  “Why no clothes for us ladies?” She had no problems jumping from one topic to another.

  Ioha smiled. “That’s because I don’t know any local ladies. I wouldn’t know what could become fashionable.”

  “Your fiancée?”

  “Is very much a lady, but she’s an outworlder like me.”

  Almina gave him a thin smile. “I would know.”

  “You’d have to travel to Isekai then. I have no dresses with me.”

  She took a step back and clapped her hands. “Excellent suggestion. Since you’re knighted, I’ll have you be my escort.”

  The hell? He couldn’t just outright reject Derina’s sister. “I have a different route planned.”

  “But it ends in Isekai, yes?”

  It did. Eventually. “Indeed. Half a year from now, give or take a couple of months.” With that, he shot her joke down. Ioha scanned his surroundings again. There were still many eyes on them, most searching for Almina.

  “… as well?”

  She hasn’t left? “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

  Her eyebrows went up a little. “You’re a bold one.”

  Ioha gave her a good look for the first time. Tall for a girl, blonde hair, grey eyes, a stiff dress, made for walking rather than dancing, that ballooned out displaying more of itself than the wearer. She didn’t look happy.

  “Look, you’re the one suggesting a several months long journey together with someone you’ve never met before.”

  The smile he received was more genuine than he expected. “I am.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t see the problem. I’m a master class spellsword.”

  She’s a cat? No, that wasn’t the word she used. Ioha dug in his memory. Not spellsword, mageblade. “I’m afraid the title is unfamiliar to me,” he said. Another gaze around them told him they weren’t stared at as much as before. Still, most of the males had appraised the unfamiliar ballroom clothes both he and Harvali wore for the occasion.

  Almina bit her lips. “It’s not a title. I’m a cavalry skirmisher.” She sighed. “Most of us are light infantry, but dad insisted I join the cavalry.”

  Skirmisher? Light infantry, or in her case cavalry. “Short range caster with sabre for defence?”

  She shook her head. “Mageblade. Sabre and spellsword. Why am I even trying? Frontliner wouldn’t understand anyway.” She sighed. “Siege cavalry.”

  For a moment, Ioha started to correct her, but playing stupid should be the fastest way to shoo her away. “My bad.” Siege cavalry? Why would anyone want a horse for climbing walls?

  “Good, I see you met,” Harvali’s voice said from behind him and sabotaged his attempt to be a rude dunce.

  “Sir Terendala, I see you no longer surround yourself with strong casters?”

  Oh, thank you! Think I’ll feel offended now?

  “Almina, as rude as always.”

  She glared at Ioha and the foreign clothes they both wore. “Rude maybe, but you once said you were the only frontliner you needed.”

  He bowed. “I still am. Sir Questingtank is not a frontliner like me. He is the frontline.”

  “Don’t be daft. He’d need to be a strong caster to control the line.”

  “Ioha,” Harvali said and smiled, “are you a strong caster?”

  Ioha tapped his foot on the floor. This was getting tedious. “Compared to Ai, not especially.”

  “Your healer?”

  “Mm.”

  “Your grandmaster class healer?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, so what?”

  “What, he knows a grandmaster class healer?”

  Ioha and Harvali both stared at Almina after her outburst. “I do,” Ioha answered. “She’s strong. I’m nowhere near her capacity.”

  “Almina, what did you do to get on his bad side?” Harvali said and smiled at her. “Are you aware his aura puts him in the top half among your graduates?”

  Now that was news. “She went to some kind of elite magic school?”

  This time Almina and Harvali stood staring at him. “Why would a short range skirmisher attend a mage academy?” he said after a while.

  Ioha shrugged. “You said I’d be in the top half.”

  “Of the graduates.”

  “Yeah, I heard that.”

  “Wait, Ioha, are you trying to tell me you believe your aura is strong enough to beat half of the graduating students from one of the mage academies here?”

  This was going nowhere. “Harvali, I was asking which of the academies here was good enough I’d only manage to get in among the top half. Sorry if I was unclear.”

  The silence stretched.

  After looking at each other, Almina nodded for Harvali to take up the thread again.

  “Ioha, exactly how strong is your aura?”

  How to answer that question? Ioha scratched his head. “Mm, this is my guess only. I mean, I got the underlying data from Hanna, so it should be OK.”

  “Ioha, spit it out!”

  The points he saw in his display wouldn’t mean anything to them. The few times his aura grew stronger it added a percentage, and with interest on interest… “Substantially stronger than the average academy teacher is my guess.”

  “Based on?” Harvali asked after the silence had stretched for too long once again.

  Ioha chewed on his tongue while he thought of a way to quantify his aura. “By a wide margin, twice as strong as an entry-level master class mage,” he said. He was more than halfway to grandmaster class, but that goal lay at least a decade in the future.