Hugo efficiently carried out the Duchess's commands, passing on the important messages and then leading Tamsin back to her chambers, where he immediately began going through her meager clothes.

"Did you not bring anything formal?" he asked, tossing another tunic aside.

"I don't know..." said Tamsin, meekly. "I don't really know that much about men's clothing, and I didn't have a lot of time to be picky when I was leaving Gwedric. I just took some items from my brother's wardrobe. Whatever I could fit in my pack."

Hugo clicked his tongue. "We'll just have to make due, then."

Hugo ended up picking out a yellow tunic layered under a forest green doublet with slashed sleeves so that they showed the yellow underneath. It wasn't overly fancy, but bright colors were suitable for a wedding, so it would work. If only the clothes fitted her properly.

Hugo was still going through her pack with increasing agitation. "Did you not bring any sort of cap?" Hugo asked.

Tamsin gasped. In her haste, she had totally forgotten to bring any other her brother's caps. It was unconscionably rude to appear at a formal occasion with your head uncovered, but Roger's caps had all been stored in a separate closet from the rest of his wardrobe, and she had been in a hurry. "No, I don't have one, I'm sorry," she said.

Hugo sighed. "Wait here," he said. He looked Tamsin up and down. "There's something else I should fetch anyway."

As Hugo strode out of the room, Tamsin was left alone standing in front of a full length mirror.

It was incredible that the Jordaine Duchy was rich enough to have a full-length glass mirror even in a guest room like this. In theory, Tamsin should be happy to be marrying into such wealth, but as she stared in the mirror, she mostly just felt a bit pathetic.

The doublet hung like a sack over her small frame, and her hastily cut hair was inescapably unkempt. She looked nothing like a noble lord about to become a Duke. She looked more like a meek young lad from the forest wearing hand-me-down clothes to try to make a good impression at the start of an apprenticeship. It was impossible to imagine the person in the mirror as the reigning Duke of one of the most powerful nations in the Empire. The thought was laughable.

As Tamsin stared into the mirror wondering if she was really going to be able to go through with this, the image she was looking at began to shift.

Instead of her own reflection, she saw an Eastern woman in scholar's robes with her long dark hair pulled up behind her. She wore a monocle over one of her eyes, which were both pitch-black holes in the world.

Xia, the Goddess of Death.

Tamsin leaned forward, wondering if the stress and lack of good sleep were causing her to hallucinate.

"You push your luck," said Xia.

Tamsin jumped backwards, startled.

"The wager stated that you would not tell anyone about the wager itself, or about anything you'd seen while in the other realm." The Goddess's voice was low and melodic, but it had an oddly dry undertone to it, like the echo of old paper rustling.

"Right, yes," said Tamsin, "And I didn't tell the Duchess about the wager or anything I'd seen in the other realm. I only told her about a few of the things I'd heard in the other realm."

"Which is why I'm here issuing a warning, and not... other consequences."

Tamsin stared at the goddess. Oddly, Tamsin didn't find her quite as intimidating as she found the Duchess. Perhaps it was because she currently only existed in a mirror. Or perhaps it was because Tamsin's anger at the gods in general outweighed her fear.

"Why are you here and not Iphrix?" asked Tamsin. "War would be nothing without Death, and yet you let her order you around."

"She doesn't order me around!" snapped Xia. "I merely help her out sometimes out of appreciation for our long... friendship."

Tamsin raised an eyebrow.

Xia sighed and rubbed her temple. "Besides, the specifics of your wager indicate that the consequence of failure is your immediate death. As the Goddess of Death that means I'm required to be somewhat nearby, in case my services are needed."

"So you're somewhere nearby every time anyone is close to death?" asked Tamsin.

"In a way," replied Xia.

"That sounds exhausting," said Tamsin.

Xia stared at Tamsin, silently, as if she couldn't make her mind up about something. She clearly was not open to a casual chat. Which was a shame. Tamsin hadn't seriously thought it would be possible to play the Goddesses against each other, but it had been worth a shot.

"Just be careful," said Xia. "If you spend too much time searching for your limits, sooner or later you'll find them."

Xia disappeared from the mirror just as Hugo walked back into the room, carrying a scrap of cloth, a small wooden box, and a cap. The cap was made of a green cloth (a similar, but subtly different shade than her doublet) and had a pattern of eight-pointed stars embroidered in gold across it.

"You're lucky I still had this," said Hugo, placing the cap on Tamsin's head and adjusting how it sat. "It's hard to find any non-black clothing anywhere in this castle."

"What's in the box?" asked Tamsin, admiring the cap in the mirror. It wasn't overly fancy, but really did improve the outfit.

Hugo held the box out towards Tamsin and opened it, revealing hundreds of delicate glistening-metal pins. "We don't have time for any real tailoring," said Hugo. "But we may be able to do something about the fit."

Hugo turned out to be a miracle worker with those pins. By the time he was done, the doublet sat the way it was supposed to on Tamsin's frame. It was incredible what a difference that made. She still didn't look like a Duke, of course, but she at least looked more like... a fully-trained page boy, perhaps. Or a fresh-eyed young noble, even. Someone who wouldn't appear quite so out of place amongst higher-ranked nobility. The fit even managed to show off her figure a bit more without making her look overly... womanly.

"Just one more touch," said Hugo. He pulled out the scrap of cloth, which turned out to be a black capelet which displayed the crest of House Jordaine—A red shield with a black chevron separating the top from the bottom; on the bottom was an eight-pointed golden star, and on top were two rampant lions, facing each other as if about to spar.

Hugo secured the capelet around Tamsin's shoulders, and took a step back.

Tamsin turned back and forth in the mirror, taking in the full effect of the outfit. The capelet was just the final touch it had needed. Tamsin actually thought she looked... kind of handsome. And being allowed to display the house crest directly on her person was a strong statement. It would tell anyone who looked at her that she had the full support of the house. That she belonged there.

Hugo had even managed to tame her hair a bit with the help of the cap. Tamsin had to work hard to hold back tears. She had never been this happy with how she looked before.

"Just be careful how you move around," said Hugo. "And whatever you do, don't sit down. Unless you're eager to turn yourself into a walking pin cushion."

"I'll be careful," said Tamsin.

"Good," said Hugo. "Then there's only one more thing I must ask you before I escort you to the chapel."

"What's that?" asked Tamsin.

Hugo looked Tamsin directly in the eye and asked, "From this point on, would you like me to refer to you as 'lord' or 'lady?'"

Tamsin suddenly wasn't sure if Hugo was attempting to make fun of her or not, but he looked entirely serious as he waited for her answer.

"I guess from a legal point of view it might be better if you referred to me as a lord..." said Tamsin, uncertainly.

Hugo shook his head. "You misunderstand me. I am not asking for your legal opinion. I assure you the way I refer to you will not affect your legal standing in this household either way. What I'm asking is... is your current attire merely a convenient prop to help you make your point more effectively, or is it a reflection of... a deeper held conviction? I want to know how you feel about it."

Tamsin still didn't really understand what Hugo was asking, or why it seemed so important to him. Did it have something to do with how Empress Heilwig was remembered as a woman?

Tamsin tried to think about whether or not she would like it, if history remembered her as a man. The thought felt... oddly depressing to her. She knew she was acting as her brother's substitute, but if history recorded her as a man, then she would feel like her entire life had been swallowed up by the story of her brother, erasing her from the narrative entirely. It was hard to pinpoint why, exactly.

But Hugo had mentioned her attire, and as Tamsin looked in the mirror, she couldn't help but think about how she had never managed to look this nice in women's clothing. Plus, men's clothes were more comfortable to move around in.

"I don't know..." said Tamsin. "If it's about how I feel, then I suppose you should keep calling me 'lady', then. But I don't want to start wearing dresses again. If I'm being given a choice."

After all, the Duchess didn't wear dresses, so perhaps it was generally more acceptable in Jordaine for women to wear what they wanted, regardless.

Hugo nodded. "I understand. If, upon further reflection, you ever change your mind, do let me know. You may change your attire or form of address at any time, without fuss."

What an incredible level of freedom that was. Tamsin had been raised to believe that rules of etiquette, which dictated things like forms of address and gendered attire, were immutably set in stone. Any departure from tradition wasn't just discouraged, it was practically unthinkable. Only an extreme situation like this one had led Tamsin to even think of dressing in her brother's clothes.

But Hugo spoke as if flexibility on such matters was natural. It was oddly... reassuring to hear that.

"Regardless, we should depart shortly," said Hugo. "We wouldn't want to keep your betrothed waiting. The Duchess gets rather tetchy when she hasn't had enough sleep, so the sooner we can get this done, the better."