“Wait, Riker?” Lucy narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “THE Riker?”

  I groaned, shaking my head in despair. “Ugh, THE Riker with his endless monologues? Please, don’t remind me.”

  “You should call him,” Lola nudged my shoulder insistently. “You promised, remember?”

  “I did?” I blinked innocently. “Nope. Pretty sure I never made any such promise,” I said, trying, and failing miserably, to keep my expression convincingly innocent.

  Lola just rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “My lady,” she said with exaggerated formality, “you need his help. In Rimelion, we seriously need his funding if we want to get anywhere near establishing a barony.”

  With a dramatic sigh, I slumped further into my seat. “Fine…” I muttered, biting my lip anxiously. “I’ll call him, but first, I need to figure out how to actually make it happen. My right-to-rule stat is practically negative at this point.” Lucy snorted softly from beside me, earning herself a pointed glare. “I’m serious! I can’t exploit the system as much anymore… the system is actually onto me!”

  Lucy grinned mischievously. “Like a little thing like that could stop you.”

  By the time we reached my place, Lola had thoroughly nagged me into agreeing to call, while Lucy mercilessly teased me the entire way home.

  Ugh.

  “This is my kingdom!” I declared grandly as we stepped into my apartment. Sure, it was messy, clutter scattered across every surface, but it was mine.

  Lucy promptly vaulted onto the sofa, automatically reaching out to grab a beer. “Huh?” she frowned in confusion, her hand closing around empty air. “John?”

  I flopped onto the sofa beside her, exhaling. “Didn’t exactly have time to restock lately,” I explained sheepishly. “Not even sure if I can now, honestly.”

  Lola settled herself carefully onto a nearby chair, nodding thoughtfully. “I’m still not entirely clear about how all this works. What about your clothes?”

  I blinked, suddenly self-conscious, and took an experimental sniff.

  Immediately, I grimaced.

  “Ugh. Definitely no magical refresh between jumps. Looks like laundry just jumped to the top of my quest log. Shower first, though?”

  Lucy leaned forward, eyes narrowed in curiosity. “Speaking of practical things, when exactly do you sleep? Didn’t you say that as soon as you hit the pillow, you transport back?”

  “Yeah…” I sighed, closing my eyes to gauge my exhaustion.

  Surprisingly, it was only mild, as though I’d only been awake for around ten hours or so. Sleep was definitely on the horizon, but it wasn’t an immediate necessity. “This is weird… I should feel more tired. Like sleep-sleep tired.”

  “Maybe it’s because of your elven heritage now?” Lola suggested thoughtfully. I snapped my fingers loudly, startling her. “Wha—what?” she stammered.

  “Sorry!” I flashed her an apologetic grin. “You’re totally right! Elves don’t need as much sleep, right? Just a few hours every few days—another perk of elfhood!” I pumped my fist triumphantly.

  Lucy snorted again.

  “You only get to celebrate if you call Riker,” Lola reminded me with a teasing smile.

  “And invite Adam and the others? Suuure,” I narrowed my eyes at her, spun dramatically on my heel, and stomped towards the bathroom. “After a shower!”

  Which was actually true.

  Sort of.

  I did plan on calling them… eventually. But right now, the soothing warmth of the shower took priority, washing away grime. As the water cascaded over me, I inspected myself curiously in the mirror, searching for any signs of my new elven identity. Aside from the elegant points of my ears, nothing seemed drastically different. Still slim, graceful waistline intact, but disappointingly, no improvements to my chest or, far more tragically, my legs.

  “So short now,” I grumbled mournfully, toweling off in front of the mirror. Attempts to pull mana here on Earth were fruitless, leaving me to exhale in frustration.

  “Your height is currently below average for a human female,” Jerry’s dry voice buzzed helpfully from my wrist.

  I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at the band in the mirror. “Creep. Watching girls in the shower now?” I stuck my tongue out defiantly.

  “Would John have behaved like this?” Jerry questioned innocently. “Or has your behavior significantly changed since you became Charlie?”

  My hands stilled briefly, my damp blue hair falling around my shoulders as I pondered the question seriously. “Jerry…” I murmured softly. Had I really changed that much? I had been gruff, defensive even, but that had been my armor against a life that constantly threw challenges my way. “Now I realize I might’ve been wrong,” I admitted quietly.

  “About what exactly?” Jerry vibrated with genuine curiosity.

  I stuck my tongue out again; the playfulness returning swiftly. “None of your business, AI-boy,” I said cheekily, sliding into one of Katherine’s gifted dresses, enjoying the soft fabric against my skin.

  The moment I stepped back into the living room, the doorbell rang sharply, making me jump. “Pizza?” I asked hopefully, glancing at Lucy, who shook her head. Lola, however, ducked behind her tablet, suddenly very engrossed in whatever was on the screen. My eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Lola?!”

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  “I… uh…” she whispered sheepishly, avoiding my gaze. “I might have invited them.”

  “Them?” I echoed, eyebrows arching high, but curiosity dragged me toward the door anyway. Lola murmured something else, far too quietly to catch. I sighed dramatically and flung open the door with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Hello!”

  Standing awkwardly on the threshold were Adam and… Roberto?

  “Signorina!” Roberto bellowed joyfully, pulling me into a crushing bear hug before I could react. “Had to see your pointed ears for myself!” Without missing a beat, he eagerly reached out toward them.

  “Hey!” I stepped back with exaggerated dignity, dodging his fingers by using imperial steps. “LOLA!” I shot her my most betrayed glare, but she only mouthed a silent, apologetic ‘sorry.’ “Seriously?”

  Adam stood uncertainly, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and curiosity. “John… uh, I mean… sis?” he began hesitantly, clearly wrestling with the reality in front of him. “I still can’t quite wrap my head around this, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. The cosplay is impressive, at least.”

  Roberto made another enthusiastic grab at my ears, prompting me to step back sharply again. “Trust me, Adam,” I sighed, swatting Roberto’s persistent hand away. “I’m still adjusting too. If you stick around, you’ll even see me vanish into thin air.”

  “Hi, Adam!” Lucy called cheerfully from the sofa, absorbed in something on her holophone. She waved without looking up. “And hi… was it Roberto, right?”

  Suddenly, the room erupted into overlapping chatter and laughter, each voice competing for attention.

  Rolling my eyes, I evaded yet another one of Roberto’s eager lunges and retreated swiftly to the kitchen to grab extra chairs. Clearly, it was going to be a long and very chaotic evening. Night for me? Or day?

  Ugh.

  “Hi, Riker,” I said with a resigned wave toward the holotv, which was currently projecting his call at full obnoxious volume. Lola had insisted I make the call. So, here we were. “You’re on with my friends and family.”

  A scattered chorus of “Hi!” and “Hello!” rang out from behind me.

  Riker, of course, answered the call while seated on a throne.

  A literal throne.

  Gilded armrests. Velvet cushions. An absurdly oversized backrest that looked like it had been stolen from a fantasy opera set. He might as well have slapped a plastic crown on his smug head and declared himself King of the Overcompensators.

  The thing looked suspiciously like a replica of the western kingdom’s high seat.

  Of course it did.

  I refused—absolutely refused—to give him the satisfaction of reacting.

  He stretched his arms wide like a messiah addressing the masses, his grin so dazzling it could’ve blinded a satellite. “My, my! What a fascinating cast you’ve assembled!” he announced. “Truly, Miss Charlie, your talent for attracting chaos is unparalleled. Was it luck? Charisma? Or perhaps your innate gravitational pull for delightful disasters?”

  Then he leaned forward, his voice dropping to that playful lilt he used when winding someone up. “So, was the experiment a success? Did the elven mystique take root?” His eyes sparkled as they flicked toward my ears. “You’re not hiding them, are you? Or—” he gasped, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest, “is it all a clever ruse? A brilliant prosthetic, perhaps? I demand a personal inspection. For scientific integrity, naturally.”

  I didn’t answer right away. Mostly because I was debating if throwing my holotv out the window would be a satisfying enough conclusion.

  “No, dear Riker,” I finally said, my voice flat as drywall. “It’s real. All of it.” I stared him down through the projection. “And I’m going to need help soon. Just letting you know.”

  He blinked… just once. A flicker of genuine surprise, like I’d tossed the script and ad-libbed his monologue. “Ah—but of course, Miss Charlie!” he recovered with a bow so theatrical I could practically hear a string quartet warming up. “That’s merely a formality!”

  He vaulted from the throne with all the flair of a man raised on spotlight and ego, coat flaring like the ultimate act of a musical. “I cannot wait to speak with you in person!” he declared.

  I nodded, too drained to offer witty resistance. “Evenings only. I’ll let you know.”

  “Absolutely, Miss Charlie! Though surely, surely! You’d like to know about my magnifi—”

  “No.” I cut him off with a single raised hand and the ghost of an apology. “Sorry. I’m overwhelmed. It’s been… a day. Lola will fill you in.”

  And with that, I ended the call.

  Silence.

  Blessed, merciful silence.

  “He’s…” I exhaled slowly, speaking to the room. “Amazing. And foolish. And brilliant. And so, so damn annoying.”

  “Did you just… hang up on him?” Lucy asked from her spot on the couch, her eyes wide and mouth hanging like she’d just watched me kick a puppy on holotv. “He’s… like, the richest man alive? Probably?”

  “Who cares about that?” I waved a hand, sinking deeper into the cushions with a sigh that had way too much emotional baggage in it. “If he wants to talk, he knows how to reach me. And anyway, that’s our thing—snarky banter, thinly veiled threats, mutual emotional damage. We bond through dysfunction. It’s fine.” I paused. “He’s not mad. Probably.”

  Lola looked up from her tablet, fingers still poised above the screen like she’d just paused an epic boss fight. One brow arched with the precision of a judgmental clerk. “I really hope this isn’t your approach to diplomacy moving forward.”

  Adam snorted. Then burst into full-bodied laughter, head tilting back like a sitcom laugh track had possessed him. Lola turned toward him, wariness blooming in her expression. “She… can be more diplomatic, right?”

  “My sister?” Adam managed between gasps, already halfway folded over. “Let me tell you a story from middle school. There was this one time, a teacher—”

  “ADAM!” I launched off the couch so fast the air whooshed behind me. Three steps and I had a hand clamped over his mouth, eyes pleading. “Please. Don’t. That story deserves to die in obscurity. Like… buried under a tavern outhouse. Behind a cursed forest.”

  Adam laughed against my palm, completely unrepentant. While I was mid-mortification, Roberto, the sneaky bastard, tiptoed up behind me and flicked one of my ears.

  “GUYS!” I shrieked, spinning around in a flurry of limbs and pure panic.

  Lucy, sprawled on the sofa like royalty watching a comedy play, just smirked. “Just enjoy the company. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Our elven princess in all her pointy-eared glory.”

  “Really? Princess?” Adam’s eyes lit up with the dangerous gleam of a sibling about to weaponize childhood memories. “Remember when we used to play—”

  “ADAM!” I shouted again, only this time I dropped onto his lap like a malfunctioning plush toy and shoved a cushion into his face. “I was four!”

  He tried to talk. Failed. Laughed instead.

  The others joined in. Loud, chaotic, ridiculous laughter. I glanced around at their faces, Lola chuckling softly behind her tablet, Lucy half-curled on the couch, Adam cackling despite the pillow… and yeah, even Roberto, still aiming another poke at my ear.

  This is what home felt like. Even when it was chaotic, unfiltered, and slightly inappropriate.

  I sat up a little straighter and gave Adam a narrow-eyed glare. “Fine. I’ll tell the story. My version. So it doesn’t get stolen by my rude, treacherous—”

  Whiplash.

  Suddenly someone yanked me up like a claw machine snatching a stuffed elf.

  “Girly, wakey-wakey!” Karzi’s gravel-slick voice slammed into my eardrums like a warhorn made of wolves. One hand gripped my arm like iron as she dragged me bodily from the comfort of the tent.

  The world spun. A heartbeat ago I’d been warm, laughing, surrounded by friends. Now? I was stumbling barefoot across cold dirt with sleep still crusting my eyes.

  The sky overhead was still pitch, stars clinging to the black like pinpricks in velvet. Not even a hint of dawn yet.

  “Need you to level up!” Karzi barked, practically vibrating with excitement. “Level five mages with no class? Super expensive! So no takey class, yes?”

  “Yes,” I mumbled automatically, half-conscious and very much not ready for this brand of manic motivation.

  She grinned with teeth. “If I have to sacrifice slaves, so be it. We’ll get you there!”

  Oh yeah. Definitely awake now.