Two months went by without an incident.
Nobody ca for Olive. We heard the dreary news that all the girls in the Magister's basent died. While I knew the assassin's guild was aware of Olive, it also told they didn't share that information with official channels.
Our "observers" as I call them stopped their focused attention but there was always a low-leveled mber in the twenties watching over us. I didn't want to scare him away or make them change their plans because it was easier for to keep track of that one guy. I knew even his habits and quirks by now.
I did nothing. Not a single nightly escapade, nothing but be a good handicapped child. I played with Anjou and that was a marvelous experience.
Because Anjou was a "real" girl, this fleshy transmigrating Pinocchio here could learn a great deal from her. Unfortunately, I couldn't consider myself a girl. I was a guy with the body of one but the mindset wasn't there. I had too much baggage.
To that effect, the prejudice even helped. Any quirks or mannerisms were shelved under "she's retarded". It was still as cruel as it could be. Sotis it got under my skin but I had decades over them. Maybe cruelty is a natural human instinct, one that is tempered by reason and learning. I don't know.
But after these two months, winter ca and our observer started to watch us every other day only. I had no idea even if my stashes were uncompromised and that made skittish. I wanted at least a few silver coins to help my family go through winter. Our family business of washing and repairing clothes wasn't bringing in much money and it would slow to a trickle during winter. We could very well starve.
Cerise picked [Governess] as her Class. It was uncommon but it was a crappy one. Better than common-grade [Maid], she scoffed when I pointed it out. She was working her levels looking after our landlady's house. While my only path to advancent was murder - and even better with qualified preditated murder - she could gain a few points of Exp just by cleaning the house.
I needed to access my stash of money but I knew the mont our family displayed any extra wealth the assassins would flock next to us and we would be even worse than in the aftermath of the magistrate's death. To solve that, I would need to contact the assassins.
I couldn't use my were-jaguar form. Olive warned that Lily's story survived in a distorted way. My black fur was too distinctive and would draw too much attention. Fortunately, I had another trump.
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