Cora and I approached her father's bakery, Tulk Breadworks, with Reilin in tow. I had the girl carrying my pack. Selenee sat out front, weaving a flower crown of white and purple buds. She rose and gave us a delighted wave.
"I didn't order a foot-rub," I called to her grinning, the girl turned a pretty shade of pink and turned her head. That's when the Tulk Patriarch stepped onto the store's porch, "Cora, how was day one!?"
I'd wondered if the man had some inkling of Cora's actual motivation signing up with me. His face plainly said "No". I would have felt guilty if she wasn't so earnest in her desire. Her legs were still shaky, yeah I'd done a number on her.
"It was great Daddy," she ambled up to the short and wiry middle-aged man and wrapped her arms around his neck, "Thanks so much for believing in me."
I almost gagged, the scene was picturesque in its depravity. He lifted her into the air and said "Your mother would be so proud."
Her legs curled his middle and he locked his arms beneath her hips, then turned to me, "Thanks for taking a chance on Cora. We both know she's under-trained."
"No, she did really well today," I said, trying to hold it together, "She may well be cut out for this." It wasn't a lie, the girl had passion. That was the one piece I couldn't drill into her.
Cora's head nestled into the crook of his neck. I felt a twinge. Initially I'd written off this moment as accidentally erotic, but that was my own insecurity at play. I'd grown up without family, and didn't understand this sort of affection.
"Hehah-" he laughed and set her down, "I knew you were tough."
"Mentor Serica's just being nice, I've got a long way to go..." Cora said. Reilin looked about ready to hurl and Selenee gave me a knowing smirk.
Those two had better keep their lips sealed or I'll find work for their wandering tongues.
"I'll have to get used to closing shop without you," Cora's father said, "Bath-house will be shutting down soon as well soon, you better head off."
Cora froze, Reilin looked too ready to gush what'd happened a little under and hour before in the bath-house. I cut in, "The three of us actually dropped by Blooms' to discuss the day's events. Sorry Selenee, it was a bit of a last minute thing."
Selenee fought a frown, "No worries, I had a prior engagement," then Cora's brow furrowed
I'll have to dig into that later.
The evening had already drug on, and we still had to pay a visit to Lord Durough's manor. Taking Reilin as a live-in maid would be an impossibility until I paid the proper respects.
We made our goodbyes, and in the process learned Cora's father's name, Alard.
The closer we grew to the manor, the more reserved Reilin became. I took my pack back from her. Her shoulders were low, and she obsessively squeezed every bit of moisture she could from her leathers.
"You want to give me a primer?" I asked. I wasn't too concerned, the girl was of age and could abandon house if she chose to, though a man like her father had the ability to level consequence, or make her change her mind.
We needed to present this change in a positive light, make it a foregone conclusion.
"He's going to want something in return." The squeak of her wet boots slowed.
"I'll see what I can do." Dusk-light was growing dimmer, lamplighters raced through the streets.
"Not from you."
I turned to her, and caught something in her eyes I didn't like. She wasn't shedding it willingly, but I'd worked far too long learning analysis to miss something like this. Her breath was both long and shallow, her hand gripped her thigh, "What?"
I sided my pack and fished my office key from its pocket, "You head back, I'll meet you there shortly."
"What are you?" Reilin asked, and let out a laugh as thick as wrapping paper, "It'll be fine, come on."
"Reilin I'm giving you an order. My office. Now."
She didn't question me, just snatched the key from my fingers and turned. She'd get there safe. Still, I pulled the tie from my pony-tail and let the wind catch, then whispered under my breath, "Report."
Tree-limbs rustled and shop-signs swung in her wake as my second set of eyes whisked away to monitor her progress.
I don't need this kind of heat.
Light bloomed within Manor Durough's stained-glass windows, coloring the streets in flowery patterns of crimson and cardinal.
Neither does she.
A piled stone wall, roughly four meters high and topped with iron barbs lined the structure. I approached its gate and bowed to the watchmen on duty, "Good evening."
There were three. The man at their head, too little lip and too much mustache, ran his eyes over every exposed inch of me, "Mentor Serica?"
These men were apparently well informed of Reilin's coming and going, I'd never laid eyes on this fellow.
"Yes that's correct," I shifted the weight of my pack, "Apologies, but I'm not as well prepared, you are?"
His eyes had abandoned me and were rolling over the surrounding alleys and rooftops, looking for our obviously missing third party, "Of little consequence, I'm not paid to be noteworthy. May I inquire on the reason for your visit?"
Pretentious ass thinks he knows everything, let's spin some yarn.
"I'm afraid I lack an invitation, but have arrived in hopes of speaking to the Young Lady Durough about a change in tomorrow's agenda," I said, peeking around him and through the gate, "Is she available?"
That returned his gaze.
No, I am not someone to be overlooked. Eyes here.
It took him a moment before he tried to deflect, "Young Mistress Reilin is about her business in the city. She keeps late hours, I can take a message for her."
"Unacceptable."
"Excuse me?" Confusion and this watchman were becoming fast friends.
"I allowed the Lord's brat to buy her way into my tutelage. We're heading on excursion tomorrow at sun-up. You're telling me she's nowhere to be found? She should be in bed, recuperating from this afternoon's dismal performance. Where is her father?" I gave him my best Illia impression, I didn't like to hit this octave, but when the situation called for a stuck up bitch, I could deliver.
"Lord Durough is with guests," he said, trying his best to head me off.
"And if I'm back tomorrow delivering news that she's dead in a ditch due to lack of sleep, will he be with guests then?"
"That wouldn't-"
"The girl threw herself into a sensual contest with a Slime-Queen today, and lost," I didn't spare him a moment, "My patience is running thin, and I will deem her unfit for tutelage if this goes on. Find him."