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Her features themselves had changed little. They remained largely the same, though they grew slightly smaller as she lost about an inch of her height — still leaving her towering over both Arwin and Raen, not to mention Reya.

“Whoa,” Reya said. “That’s incredible! She looks like she could be my sister! Just… really big and beefy.”

There’s definitely a resemblance. It’s kind of like somebody crossed ninety percent of Monica with ten percent of Reya. That must be the effects of her hair in the project. I wonder what would have happened if I’d used one of mine. Would she have gotten even burlier?

Monica lifted her hands. Her gloves were now just a little bit too big and draped over her fingers like she’d stolen them from her father. She ripped both of them off, then stared at her fingers.

Her hands shot up to her face. They ran along her nose, then to her mouth before lifting up to her ears. She grabbed her shirt and pulled it back, staring down it. Disbelief gripped her features in a vice as her arms fell back to her sides and she looked up to Arwin.

“I can’t believe it,” Monica muttered. She spun to Raen and ran over to him, skidding to a stop before she could drive him through the wall of the smithy and grabbing the man by the shoulders. “Look at me! I’m human!”

“No,” Arwin said in a tone that was both soft but firm. “You’re not human. There’s no need to be human. I didn’t, and I can’t, change who you are. I’ve just changed what people see you as. That’s it.”

“I can’t feel your claws at all,” Raen said in awe. He reached up to Monica’s hand — still suspended in the air — and gave it a squeeze. “They’re gone.”

“And I’m so small now,” Monica breathed, lowering Raen back to the ground. He barely stood up to her chest. She patted him on the shoulder. “Look at this! You’re almost to my head. I’m tiny!”

What am I, then? A rodent?

“How is this possible? I thought this would be an illusion,” Raen stammered, clasping Monica’s hand between his own. He sent a baffled look in Arwin’s direction. “You’ve changed her physical form? Can you change it back?”

“It’ll go back to normal the moment she takes that off,” Arwin replied, nodding to the bracelet on Monica’s wrist. “Don’t worry. She’s still the same orc. I don’t have magic nearly strong enough to keep her changed when she isn’t wearing my equipment.”

Monica lifted her arm and studied the bracelet. Then a huge smile split her lips. “I can kiss you in public, Raen! I don’t have to walk around dressed like a church lady! I might even fit through doorways without having to duck! This is incredible!”

A smile split Raen’s lips. “It is more than I ever could have imagined.”

“Cancel his debt,” Monica said. “This is more than what we paid for.”

Raen blinked. “What? But—”

“Cancel it,” Monica insisted. “Sugar, look at me. Touch me. This is more than just for public appearances every once and a while. I can explore the cities with you normally, without having to worry about getting run through. Fuck, I could get an actual job in the city! That would be so much fun. Are you really going to wring him for more gold?”

Raen let out a groan. “Godspit. Whose side are you on?”

“We aren’t going to need healing potions near the bed anymore.”

Raen blinked. Then he tilted his head to the side, his expression lightening in realization. “That somehow managed to slip under my attention. Consider your gold dept paid, Ifrit. I’d still appreciate that introduction to the Montibeau family, though.”

Arwin did his best not to choke on his own saliva.

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Did I just save thousands of gold because they can screw each other without Monica poking a hole in Raen on accident?

You know what, I’ll take it.

“The sentiment is appreciated, and I’m sure we can still arrange for that meeting,” Arwin said, clearing his throat. “Just take care while you’re wearing that bracelet. It really can come off, and then the change will revert. And keep in mind it draws energy as well. You’ll run out if you start doing something strenuous.”

Monica nodded her understanding. “I understand, smith. I’ll be careful.”

“This is a really marvelous piece of equipment,” Raen said. He studied the bracelet for several long seconds. “I was unaware you were capable of making something this powerful. Who areyou, Ifrit?”

“The leader of the Menagerie. Nothing more.”

Reya coughed in the corner of the room.

Raen glanced at her out of the corners of his eyes. When he looked back to Arwin, there was a flicker of amusement deep within his gaze. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

Arwin just smiled in response. “It was a pleasure doing business with your guild, Raen. We haven’t had the best experiences with merchant guilds before. It’s good to know some of you are respectable.”

Raen nodded absently. His attention returned to the bracelet and he fell silent for a long second. “It won’t be long before more of them are knocking on your doors. Everyone’s going to be trying to place commissions once word gets out about what you can do.”

“I’d prefer if you don’t share the details of what that bracelet does,” Arwin said casually. “For Monica’s safety, of course. We don’t need people realizing what she’s doing.”

“That would be ideal,” Raen said. A frown flickered across his features. “But why wouldn’t you want to advertise what you can do? I never said anything about talking about Monica’s piece. You could make a fortune off selling this kind of item. Every single woman and man of the night within the kingdom would spend their life savings to get one of these. Why would you not want to advertise this?”

“Eh. It’s not my style of equipment, and I don’t want to mass produce things anymore,” Arwin said. “I like personalizing my work. The happiness my equipment brought Monica — that’s what I’m after. The money will follow.”

“That’s noble, but even word of your abilities would go far. Not advertising this…”

The merchant trailed off. His eyes narrowed, then went wide an instant later as he drew in a sharp breath. Raen’s head snapped back to look at Arwin.

“You gave the Montibeau girl a set of your armor and made no move to hide its capabilities,” Raen muttered. “It’s not that you don’t want advertising. You’re hiding the fact you can make this exact item.”

Ah, shit.

Reya casually crossed her hands behind her back, moving them closer to Wyrmhunger’s hilt at her side. Her stance shifted imperceptibly.

“I’m not sure what—”

“Twelve,” Raen muttered, cutting Arwin off as realization lit behind his eyes. Arwin could practically see the puzzle pieces clicking together in the man’s gaze.

“Sugar?” Monica asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“That wasn’t a demon you killed.” Raen ran a hand through his hair and swallowed heavily. “Godspit. You executed Twelve in broad daylight while pretending he was a demon, didn’t you? That’s why he just up and vanished… and you somehow managed to kill every single one of his clones, not just the one here?”

There wasn’t even a point of denying it. Raen wasn’t asking him a question. He’d already figured it out.

“He had it coming,” Arwin said simply.

“Gods above,” Raen breathed. “Who are you, Ifrit? I did not realize just how important that question was when I asked it the last time. What kind of smith can accomplish something like this? How can a crafting guild defeat a member of the Setting Sun?”

“He trained the man responsible for the death of my friend,” Arwin said in a tone as quiet as a viper lying in wait. “That is all that matters. And I am the guild leader of the Menagerie. Nothing more matters.”

For several long seconds, nobody spoke.

“I see,” Raen said. “Then I look forward to a long and fruitful partnership, leader of the Menagerie. I thought I had a good understanding of who you were, but it seems that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Good riddance to Twelve. As long as I get what I want, then I am happy.”

“You sound like a megalomaniac, Sugar,” Monica said.

“It’s part of the job description, my love,” Raen replied. He approached Arwin and extended a hand. “The secret will die with me, Ifrit. I’d have agreed to doing a lot worse if I knew you’d be able to do this much to help my wife.”

Reya’s shoulders relaxed.

A smile crossed over Arwin’s lips. He clasped Raen’s hand. “We could use a few allies, and I think we’ll be growing at a rate I’m unused to dealing with soon enough. My suppliers could use a guild to back them up. I think we’ll be able to do a lot for each other… so long as you don’t mind working with some unconventional folks.”

“Unconventional?” Raen chuckled. “I doubt you can get more unconventional than my wife, Arwin.”

Arwin smiled in response. “I suppose we’ll see. But, speaking of Monica… you mentioned you were going to look for a job?”

“I’d certainly like to get one, yes,” Monica replied. “I’m not a fan of sitting around while Raen does everything, and my duties in the guild are limited. I mostly just hit things. It would be entertaining to do more. I’ll just have to find someone that wants to hire someone as dainty as me when I’m in this form.”

Arwin wasn’t so sure that Monica could be considered dainty by any standards. She was twice as wide as an average man and the entirety of it was pure muscle — but he wasn’t about to tell her that.

“Well, I think I might know somebody that just expanded their establishment and might be looking to get some new staff,” Arwin said, a smile creeping across his features. “And the best part is, you won’t even need to wear that bracelet while you’re working.”