I knelt obediently, head bowed, just as I had countless times before Mother Superior. Inside, though, I was frowning.

  The others were making a grand spectacle of my punishment—holding a mock trial in the war room, complete with judge and prosecutor. They were clearly loving every minute.

  Lumiere tapped her chin. "To be fair, it’s not like she went in totally unprepared."

  I smiled faintly. I could always count on Lumiere to be in my corner. My sweetest little defense attorney.

  "Smoke bombs, spark bombs, pepper spray, pair of daggers..." Evelyn rattled off the contents of my bag that night.

  I nodded. Worst case, I could've handled ten Harkers. The man was a snake, sure, but he didn’t seem to be much of a fighter. His only weapon was a gambler’s dagger in his boot.

  Of course, if I'd hurt him, I couldn't guarantee I'd have made it out alive. The fact that he came barely armed only proved how much he trusted his ckeys downstairs.

  "Plus points," Rocher decred, arms folded, pretending to be an impartial judge.

  "Even so, she shouldn’t have gone alone." Opposite Lumiere, Seraphine assumed the role of prosecutor. "If she wanted to keep things quiet, she could have just asked me to come with. I was already party to what she was pnning."

  Earlier, I’d scolded her for breaking her promise. She'd just stuck out her tongue and wagged her finger. 'I promised not to say that you were meeting the Thieves' Guild. I never promised anything else.'

  A technicality. I hated how clever she could be.

  "What does the accused have to say in her defense?" Rocher asked.

  "It was only one night," I said mournfully. "I wasn’t pnning to contact the Guild ever again. I just didn’t want to drag anyone else into my shady dealings."

  "And?" he prompted.

  I crossed my arms. "And... I could've handled it on my own. Without you butting in."

  Seraphine’s lips curled. "Out of curiosity, Miss Cire—how much was that hair ornament you tried to buy me yesterday?"

  "About... twenty gold?"

  That was roughly how much gifts cost in the game. If you had the extra coin, it was an easy way to boost retionship with any capture targets. I would have simply taken it out of my next stipend.

  Seraphine clicked her tongue. "Try twenty thousand."

  My jaw dropped.

  "I submit that Miss Cire is hopeless with money—unfit to negotiate with the Thieves’ Guild alone."

  Every head nodded. Even Lumiere's—I shot her a look of hurt.

  Rocher smiled. "Suffice it to say, we’re not buying that ornament anymore."

  I bit back a rueful sigh. It really would’ve looked good on Seraphine.

  "Also, minus points," he added. "Minus a lot of points."

  Any lingering warmth evaporated—I bristled with indignation, like a cat with its tail stepped on.

  "But why go to all the trouble?" Evelyn rested her chin on her hand.

  Luckily, I'd had all night to rehearse an excuse. I heaved a long, dramatic sigh.

  "The Mask grants invisibility for a time. Since I'm the weak link in our party, I figured it might give me some measure of safety."

  That was a lie, of course. The Mask was far too valuable to waste on me. Fifteen seconds of Total Camoufge was an eternity on the battlefield—it was always meant for Evelyn's hands, not mine.

  I also knew of another effect, though it was of dubious benefit to us right now.

  Evelyn winked at me. "Does she get points for thinking about the mission?"

  "I suppose so."

  "Then—what’s my point total now?" I asked, curious.

  "No idea. I’m making it up as I go along."

  I scowled.

  "With all the evidence entered," he announced, "I motion we move to sentencing."

  "Seconded."

  "Then we'll use the punishment we agreed on st night?"

  "Yeah. Let's do that."

  Last night? It dawned on me—they'd already decided everything beforehand. They only put on this show to ugh at me.

  "You’re all terrible people," I muttered as Lumiere handed Rocher a note.

  He gnced at it, perplexed, then cleared his throat. "The accused is sentenced to wear only women’s clothes for one month..."

  I blinked.

  "Finally!" Evelyn burst out ughing. "It was such a waste of her beauty."

  Lumiere sighed fondly. "I'm afraid Cire's always been like that."

  "But... the only thing I own like that is my habit."

  Aside from my nun's garb, which I only wore to church, my wardrobe consisted entirely of men's clothing—tunics, trousers, socks. I even sewed my own undergarments.

  Seraphine's eyes gleamed. "Oh, don’t worry. We’re dragging you out shopping. I’m paying you back double what you did to me."

  "Consider this penance for leaving me behind yesterday," Lumiere added, giggling.

  The verdict was carried out immediately. I was hauled to a boutique off the Royal Road, protesting every step of the way.

  I'd pnned to py dress-up with Seraphine eventually, but she’d beaten me to the punch. She and Lumiere were gleefully grabbing armfuls of fabric for me to try.

  In the dressing room, my reflection stared back at me: a low-cut flowery dress with a breezy hem, ribbon at the waist, with sandals and hat to match.

  I sighed. Even I had to admit they had good taste. If there was anything to compin about, it was that everything they had picked cinched tight at the waist, emphasizing the curves I preferred to ignore.

  I turned a little, catching my reflection from the side—this I was never going to get used to. Far cry from what I had looked like before.

  Chestnut hair falling in soft waves above my shoulders. Hazel eyes. Freckles dusting every sunlit patch of skin. Round cheeks and a button nose that gave sweet more than striking.

  This body had belonged to one of the capturable side characters—designed to appeal to very particur tastes. I was the "chubby squirrel" type, but eight years of the convent rations had trimmed most of that setting. I wasn't bad-looking per se, but nothing that could hold a candle to the main heroines.

  I stepped out to face their judgment.

  "Oh, not bad!" Seraphine tried to sound modest about the outfit she'd picked, but her self-satisfied grin gave her away.

  "It really suits you," Lumiere said, eyes wide.

  Then, as one, they turned to Rocher.

  Evelyn had excused herself to pn the Thieves' Guild job, ciming fashion wasn't her forte. 'It'll be a surprise for when I see you next.'

  Rocher had tried to escape as well, but Seraphine and Lumiere blocked his path. 'You need punishment too—for charging in like a donkey before we had all the facts.'

  Now he stood frozen, caught like a deer in torchlight, the tips of his ears burning red.

  "...It’s cute," he managed, voice barely above a whisper. He turned away, muttering, "Why are they all so cute?"

  I couldn’t disagree. Seraphine and Lumiere were naturals, despite their cloistered upbringings. I found myself wishing I'd brought my notebook.

  "My turn next." Humming, Lumiere handed me the next outfit—a pink sundress and belt—her eyes sparkling.

  Back in the dressing room, I smirked. On the way over, I’d been concocting a way to turn the situation to my advantage. Since we were trying summery outfits, now was the perfect chance.

  After all, I still owed Seraphine a reward. Lake Pcid’s Tear of the Ocean—with its gorgeous cerulean gemstone and mana-boosting properties—could not be more perfect. And best of all, it was free. I just needed to create an excuse to go there.

  So while they were distracted, I'd grabbed a few pieces of my own. If I modeled some swimwear, maybe I could pnt the idea in their heads: let's go swimming! They might even want to try some on themselves.

  With that hope in mind, I squeezed into a two-piece. Then for modesty's sake, I threw on shorts and draped a shirt loosely around my shoulders.

  "Hey!" I called, stepping out. "What do you think of this?"

  "Are you kidding me—?!"

  "Cire!"

  Rocher and Lumiere cpped their hands over their eyes in perfect unison.

  I blinked. "...What?"

  Seraphine squinted, unimpressed. "Top's a bit small, don’t you think?"

  I looked down—and froze. She was right. I was spilling out at every seam.

  Blushing furiously, I clutched my chest and darted back into the dressing room.

  "Miss Seraphine," I groaned. "I’ll have to trouble you again..."