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Chapter 5: The mistresss teasing

  David and Niala spent the rest of the early morning chatting about their plans for Niala's shop, interrupted by Luke, who came to invite them both to breakfast.

  Martha and Luke buried Niala beneath praises and unending gratitude, which the catkin attempted to deflect. Miserably failing, her face was the colour of a boiled lobster by the time the table was cleared.

  Martha made it very clear that she was now a “Friend of the Family”, offered her unlimited board and room for as long as she wished to stay in Bellharbour, and that their door would always be open to her. As such, when David brought up the idea of preferential contracts for Niala's alchemical venture, both she and her husband, Luke, jumped at the opportunity to repay the person they considered their son's saviour.

  David felt his near sleepless scouring of the entire region for the past week went unrecognized, but it was a lot of fun to watch Niala flounder under the praises and heartfelt wishes, so he let it go.

  By noon, they had hammered out contract drafts, which Luke was going to have registered at the merchant's guild later in the day.

  In summary, Luke would provide regular shipments of glassware containers, mana pellets, liquid reagents, and common herbs and components to Niala's shop in Riverwall.

  Inversely, Niala was offering Luke a regular shipment of high-quality hangover cures and energizers. David had asked why the high-quality part was important. Niala and Luke had explained that both potions usually came with side effects, ranging from dry mouth to stomach pain to bouts of weakness. High-quality ones did away with those and were very sought after by the rich and nobles. Niala had been adamant that she would have no trouble making those, and Luke had given her his complete trust.

  Niala also inquired into procuring two high-quality mana burners, to which Luke solemnly swore he would find and send her the very best he could find.

  With the minutiae squared away, Luke excused himself to leave for the merchant's guild, as David and Niala made for the local market, where Niala was looking to purchase home furnishings and essentials for her soon-to-be new home.

  “Ok, so, sheets and bedding, un-rusted cookware and utensils, un-cracked cups and plates, soap, shampoo, spices, brushes, notebooks, pens, a small scale, what else...” Niala listed off her fingers.

  “Nails, planks, and metal varnish, sealant, insecticides, insulation, and a mana-cooler to repair the busted cold box, some copper plates, soldering compound, and a mana-heater to fix the busted water heater, and at least two spools of mana-wire along with a new mana-hearth to replace all the mana wiring that's probably sublimated away,” David suggested.

  Niala blinked at him. “Right... we do need to fix the shop too... but I can make the varnish, insecticide, and soldering compound! We can simply buy the base ingredients on the cheap!” She said, grinning with pride.

  “Oooh, I guess having a talented alchemist can be pretty useful beyond taking care of hangovers and hurty tummies...”

  She punched him in the arm.

  “Respect my skills!”

  “As soon as you can run more than 5 minutes without folding in half, I'll do that.”

  “I can run just fine! Like normal people! Not like tall-legged tireless freaks like you!” She replied, ears pointed up, tail extended.

  He took on a hurt expression.

  “Huh... I mean... you just... run fast...” She blinked and punched him in the arm once more. “You're making fun of me again!”

  He chuckled, and then pointed at a clothing store he recognized.

  “Do you need extra sets of clothes? I know the owner; she has tea with Martha every week. We can probably get you a good price, especially if we get Martha involved.”

  Niala perked up, “Cheap clothes!? Yes! Wait... that feels like abusing Martha's goodwill. I'm not sure we should...”

  David rolled his eyes. “We're not robbing the poor woman. We're just using the tools we have to get a good deal. Nothing wrong with that. That's basically the first rule of all merchants everywhere, ever.”

  Niala looked torn. “Yeah, but, Martha's been so nice, and I don't feel like I did half of what she says I did... what?” She asked as she noticed David staring at her.

  David levelled his eyes at Niala, his face serious. “Once you get your shop up and running, the very first thing you need to do is hire a salesperson. Otherwise, you'll end up giving away your potions because that person just looked like they needed a little help.”

  Her ears flattened as she muttered. “I'm not that bad...”

  He leaned to whisper in her ear, “No, you're that good.”

  “Eeek!” she squeaked as she covered her ears with her hands, before glaring at him. “Don't do that! Catkins have sensitive ears and hearing! All the fluff in my ears tickles when you do that!”

  “Hmm, noted. I'll keep it in mind for later.”

  “What? No! You're going to use it against me! I can hear it in your voice! Note NOT to do it! NOT!” She weakly slapped at his arm a few times.

  “Alright, I shall not not do it, as you ask.”

  “Good! Wait...”

  “Aaand here we are, Sylvan's Brocade,” David said as they arrived at the clothing store, opening the door for Niala.

  She suspiciously eyed him as she stepped into the store, her ears perking up and eyes going wide at the amount and quality of fancy clothes and dresses lining every possible surface. She quickly jumped out of the store and looked up at the shop sign, before looking back inside, back to the sign, then pleadingly looking at him.

  “What? It's a clothing store. Martha said they had nice clothes.”

  “Nice?! It's a noble's shop! I can't... I can't afford these things!”

  A melodious yet mischievous voice sang out from within the store.

  “Oh, have the fruit of my labour been reduced to mere things now?”

  Niala froze, glacially turning toward the interlocutor, like a stag caught in an auto-car's headlamp.

  David looked inside. “Oh, hello, Mistress Yrlemagne. Have you been in good health?”

  “My good David, I haven't seen you in months! I have certainly been in good health, and I hope you have been as well. And who is your reddening friend?”

  As she walked to the front of her store, Mistress Yrlemagne revealed herself in all of her elven glory, with a mature bearing yet youthful appearance and the fluid, seamless movements typical of her kind. Her silky, almond-coloured hair was dressed in an impressive corded bun, before flowing like a waterfall down to her waist. She wore a form-fitting dress that adroitly showcased her slender curves while showing only the most tasteful amount of skin.

  As she arrived before David, she offered the back of her hand, which David daintily took and bowed slightly as if to kiss, but moving no further than a few inches before releasing it.

  “As good as it can, Mistress. This is my friend, Niala. I recommended your most fashionable boutique to her, as she finds herself in need of new attire.”

  Yrlemagne gently turned to face Niala, observing her figure from top to bottom with practised eyes.

  “My dear, you are indeed in the most pressing need of accoutrements. Come, we shall see to your wardrobe as a proper young lady must! We can discuss the annoying details of payments later.”

  “Bah, buh... I, money, afford!”

  Yrlemagne's smile twitched before she lost control and heartily laughed, a tear rolling down her cheek.

  David fought back his laughter as well.

  Niala continued impersonating a statue.

  The elf woman reined in her laughter, flicking her tear away. “Oh my dear, I'm so sorry, I couldn't help myself.” She stepped closer and lightly hugged Niala, leaving her hands on her shoulders as she pulled back.

  “Don't worry, my shop may look fancy, but I mostly cater to the good people of the city. I have plenty of stock for any budget. This.” She motioned to her storefront. “Is just the fancier stuff that I sell to tourists at a very appreciable margin.” She explained with a rapacious grin.

  Niala blinked a few times. “O...ooh.” She looked back at David, still trying to not laugh, sending him a murderous glare. He stared back, as if saying I didn't do anything!

  She held her stare for a moment, promising some arm punching nonetheless.

  Yrlemagne observed the interaction and smirked.

  “Quite nice. Well, come, darling, let old Yrlemagne dress you up nice and pretty for dear David here.” She said, winking at Niala. “And David, do please vacate and come back in, say, a bell's time?”

  David blankly stared for a second before nodding and vacating.

  Yrlemagne gently pulled at Niala's hand to get her to follow as the front door closed.

  “Ah, Miss, Mistress Yrlemagne, I'm not sure if-”

  The elf woman shook her head. “None of that mistress nonsense, dear. Only David calls me like that. Call me Yrle, or Yrlemagne if you must. Now... Fimmzi?” she called out.

  “Yeah, Boss?” A burly yet feminine voice answered, as a goblin woman's head popped out of an aisle.

  “Could you man the counter, please? I have a special customer I shall be busy with. You can come see me if anything urgent happens.”

  “Sure thing, boss,” Fimmzi replied.

  Niala observed the little grizzled goblin woman trundle her way to the front desk and jump on a small stool to get up to level.

  Yrlemagne spoke up. “She might not look the part, but Fimmzi has been my loyal companion for decades now. She is quite possibly the most ferocious little saleswoman in the entire kingdom. Just last week, she sold a mop head as a hair ornament. A used one, mind you.”

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  Niala slowly nodded before being directed towards the back store. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw rows upon rows of clothing racks, a work area with sewing machines and mannequins, drawers overfilled with patterns, shelves stacked ceiling-high with bolts of cloth, and any and all things and tools a successful clothier would need.

  “And here we are! My domain. Now, let's get this plain dress off of you and take your measures.”

  Before Niala could even begin to formulate a reply, Yrlemagne had already undone the laces at her back and began pulling the dress off of her in one smooth, clearly practised motion.

  “Eeep!” Niala squeaked, reflexively trying to cover her underwear with her hands.

  “None of that, dear. You shouldn't have any shame, you are a very beautiful and healthy young catkin woman.” Yrlemagne admonished. “Now, spread your arms as I take your measurements.” She said as she retrieved a measuring string from a nearby mannequin.

  Niala slowly unfurled. “Sorry, it's just... I'm not used to showing skin.”

  Yrlemagne hummed, adroitly taking Niala's dimensions. “It's as you feel most comfortable, dear, but you have the kind of body that men go crazy for. A powerful weapon in any woman's arsenal. It would serve you well were you to learn how to wield it.”

  Yrlemagne smiled

  “Well, don't you worry, I'll make sure it's used at least a little.”

  Niala blushed, ears slumping, “I'm not... You think so?”

  Yrlemagne stopped for a second, meeting Niala's stare. “I know so dear. Now, bend your legs as if you were about to sit.”

  “I just... I think plain, simple robes suit me well. They're easy to move in.”

  “Hmm, yes, and they hide almost everything, don't they?”

  “Ah, well, yes, that too.”

  “Stand back up, both arms forward,” Yrlemagne instructed, slightly adjusting Niala's posture. “It's simply my well-informed opinion, dear, but if you titillated him with just a little skin, catching David would be the easiest thing in the world. Arms up to the sky.”

  Niala recoiled in place, arms crossing to cover her breasts. “Wha-wha-what?! David!?”

  “Arms in the air,” Yrlemagne said, grabbing Niala's arms and shoving them upward. “Yes. Why not? You seemed to get along very well from the little I saw. I know for a fact he has nobody in his life, the restless little realm-trotter that he is. Have you known him long? Relax your arm, leg straight, bend forward at the waist, as low as you can go.”

  “N-no. I mean. I've only known him for... what, a single day now? A day and a half? It feels a lot longer than that...” She mumbled

  Yrlemagne stopped and stared at Niala. “A day and a half? Really?” She smiled knowingly. “Well, maybe you don't need to show a little skin after all, but I'm sure he'd appreciate it. Stand straight, raise one leg forward at an angle as if walking up a very high step.”

  Niala blushed a little, ears twitching. “You... you think? No! Wait! No skin! I don't! I don't want! Argh!”

  “You... don't want him to think less of you?”

  Niala barely nodded.

  “Oh, my dear. I think he already thinks very highly of you. I would bet my entire shop that all interaction he's had with you thus far was that of a kind, honourable, and approachable, if teasing, man, hasn't it? Legs and arms straight, bend backward, try to look at the ceiling.”

  “Yes. Is that... not normal?”

  Yrlemagne softly chuckled. “You'll see soon enough for yourself, but I have met many, many people in my long life, and David is one of those singular individuals that you simply cannot forget. To his friends and family, he is a comforting home with a warm fire, solid walls, and a sturdy roof. You can stand back up and get dressed now.”

  She finished noting down Niala's measurements on a piece of paper.

  “To the common mortal, he is simply a force of nature that you cannot refuse.”

  She turned to look at Niala, locking gaze with her. “And to whatever threatens those he holds dear, he is a reckoning.”

  A moment passed. The elf woman warmly smiled as she clapped her hands.

  “Now! How do you feel about a woman's ultra-secret weapon – the garter-belt?”

  Niala froze red-solid as steam billowed out of her ears.

  Nearly two bells later, David was sitting on a nearby bench looking at a trio of women coming out from the Sylvan's Brocade, one of them wearing a shoe-bag as a bonnet, being complimented on her purchase by the other two.

  As he briefly pondered how unfathomable women's fashion was, he noticed Niala, sporting her usual shade of tomato red, clutching a canvas shopping bag to her chest as if she was drowning and it was a rescue buoy, followed closely by Yrlemagne, who seemed to be teasing Niala in good humour.

  He got up and joined the two women. “All done?” He pointed at the bag. “Are those the new clothes already? Can I see?”

  Niala turned a shade of red darker, which he hadn't thought possible, squeezed the bag further, and shouted “NO LOOK! NEVER!” as she turned to the side, shielding the bag with her body.

  David startled, “Ah, sorry for asking?”, as Yrlemagne simply laughed her heart out. She slowly brought herself back under control before explaining. “Ah... no. Haha. No, those are just some accessories and everyday items that didn't need fitting. I'll have the clothes delivered in a few days once I have had time to size them properly. Especially around the bust and thighs.”

  David blinked. “Oh.”

  “Just Oh? Nothing else to comment on?”

  “I'm afraid Niala will permanently turn red if I say anything.”

  Yrlemagne glanced at Niala, a laugh almost escaping her once more.

  “I'm really sorry, dear. You are just so adorably bashful!”

  “Please stop picking on me...”

  “Oh my poor dear, I would never do such a thing!” Yrlemagne softened as she lightly hugged Niala. “I'm sorry if I've taken things too far. I will restrain myself, I swear.”

  Niala weakly nodded. “It's alright, my sister used to tease me all the time. I'm just not used to other people doing it so much.”

  “Oh, you are just so precious.” Yrlemagne turned to David. “I hope you haven't waited too long? I know we went past my estimate a little.”

  “I've waited as long as proper woman's clothes require.”

  She smirked. “That is a very good answer.” She said, before she remembered something. “Pray tell, do you have any news of poor little Samuel?”

  David and Niala shared a look.

  “What did Martha tell you the last time you met?” He asked.

  “Well, she told me quickly in passing, as she came to cancel last week's tea session, that the poor little angel had fallen quite ill.”

  David shrugged. “No use hiding it at this point, I guess. Do you remember a little over a week ago, the commotion at the port market?”

  Yrlemagne tapped a finger over her lips. “A week... Ah, yes, the zoo?”

  David blinked. “Is that what they're calling it? Either way, yes. A merchant was unloading a bunch of animals when a crate fell onto other crates and released a whole band of panicked beasts all over the market. One of them was a Kwiller.”

  Yrlemagne gasped. “A kwiller?! You don't mean to say...”

  David nodded. “Yes, it attacked Samuel, hit him with one of its quills.”

  “Goodness! Is Samuel alright? Did you find Kwiller anti-venom rapidly enough? Those things are dreadfully lethal!”

  “Hmm, nobody had the anti-venom in town, nor any of the surrounding towns or villages within a day's travel. I did end up finding someone who was able to brew a dose. We got back just in time last night. Samuel was awake and recovering this morning.”

  Yrlemagne let go of her bated breath. “Oh, thank the founding Gods. Martha and Luke would have been devastated...” She shook her head. “Where did you find someone to brew the anti-venom? I know it's quite expensive, as I've heard it's very finicky to brew, I'm surprised someone this far away from Kwiller territory knew how to...”

  David smiled and wordlessly pointed to Niala.

  Yrlemagne's eyes widened. “You mean...?”

  David nodded.

  “Niala!” Yrlemagne called out, startling the catkin woman. “You saved the life of my best friend's son, and you say nothing!?”

  “I... didn't think it was important, I didn't want to abuse your goodwill...”

  “Oh, deary me! Niala darling, you have a heart of gold and the mercantile sense of a rock!”

  As she admonished the girl, Yrlemagne fished a prince out of a hidden pocket and handed it to Niala.

  “Friend's rebate, from what you already paid me. Tut-tut, I can see you're going to try and refuse me. Don't. Take it.” Niala shut her mouth and gingerly took the offered prince, nodding in thanks.

  Yrlemagne turned to David.

  “During our little chit-chat, Niala let slip that she was looking to set up shop in Riverwall?”

  “That's right.”

  “I fear she might bankrupt herself before a year's time.”

  “Quite so.”

  “You will need to help her.”

  “Of course I-wait. No, I'm not exactly a people person. I'd be a terrible consultant. Unless you need to consult on how to find things and get paid.”

  Yrlemagne rested her chin in her hand, tapping her lips. “Mmyes. That is quite true. Niala?”

  “Aye?”

  “Once you have set up your shop and are ready for business, please do let me know? I might have someone who could handle your finances properly. If you would be fine with hiring someone, of course.”

  “Ah... I thought I'd do fine, but you all keep saying I'm really bad at, huh, mercantilism, so maybe I should?” Niala answered, ears twitching.

  “On my well-informed opinion, yes, you should strongly consider it, dear,” Yrlemagne said with a smile that was anything but.

  “O-ok. I'll let you know then. Thank you, Yrlemagne.” Niala smiled timidly.

  “Oh, come here!” Yrlemagne once again lightly hugged her and released her in one smooth motion.

  “Now carry on, you two. I've put off the rest of my clientele for long enough. I hope you'll keep me informed of your well-being from now on, Niala, yes?”

  “Ah? Yes! Of course!” Niala happily answered.

  They all waved each other goodbye. As Yrlemagne returned to her shop, David pointed to the bag that Niala still clutched. “I promise not to look inside, but do you want to store that in a cargo-cloth? If you want to make sure nobody can accidentally see what's inside, that would be the best way.”

  Niala looked down at her bag, blushing just the tiniest bit before nodding. “If you don't mind?”

  “I don't mind. Here.”

  He pulled out a rolled white cotton cloth, so finely woven it could have passed for silk. He unfurled the fabric on the ground, straightening it up with his hand. “Just deposit the bag on top of the cloth, within the red border.”

  Doing as instructed, Niala asked. “Can you tell me about these things? The cargo-cloths? How do they work? Could I get one? They seem really handy.”

  David nodded. “Sure, it's not a big secret. Almost all Free Couriers use them, and a lot of merchants have at least one too.” As he began his explanation, he touched a small symbol on one of the cloth's corners, and Niala's bag started lowering into the cloth, as if in quicksand. It was soon nothing more than a flat image of the bag, seemingly woven into the cloth itself. She stared at the whole process, the tip of her tail flicking left and right.

  David pointed at the symbols on each corner. “Whatever you put on the cloth, as long as it's within the red border and no higher than the same height as the cloth is wide, in this case about a meter tall, will be carried into a sort of compressed dimension anchored to the cloth when you touch one of the symbols with the correct mana signature. In fact...”

  He pointed at the symbol on another corner of the cloth. “Touch that, and keep touching it.”

  She did as instructed. David then gently tapped the symbol at his own corner three times. Niala meeped as something pricked her finger tip.

  “There, now it's attuned to your mana signature too.” He rolled the cloth back up and handed it to her. She eyed him puzzingly.

  “It's so you control who can look inside.” He said, smiling.

  She instantly grabbed the rolled cloth and stuffed it into her pouch. “Right! No looking!”

  “No looking. We'll keep using the same cloth to store the rest of your purchases. Each time, you just need to unfurl it as flat as you can and press one of the symbols for about a second. That will extract its content and allow you to add to it. If you ever exceed its capacity, it just won't work. Also, anything alive that you try to store in the cloth won't be alive when you take it back out. Don't look at me like that, I don't know how it works exactly.” He shook his head before continuing.

  “And I'm just loaning this one to you. A cargo-cloth of that size is worth about three nobles. As long as you have the money, anyone can buy these.”

  Niala's eyes bulged out. “Three... NOBLES!? That's thirty thousand bits! You could live for YEARS with that amount!”

  David shrugged. “I know, it's expensive. Very useful though. Don't lose it.”

  “Do... are there bigger ones? Or smaller ones?”

  “Sure, the smallest and cheapest ones I've ever seen were about a centimetre a side, and the biggest one was 50 meters a side, but that one was a high noble's family treasure. I've heard of even bigger ones existing, but I've never witnessed them.”

  Niala looked left and right, leaning close to him and whispering. “What's... the biggest one you have?”

  He smirked, leaned closer to one of her ears, and whispered softly before she realized what he was doing, “I have a ten-meter one.”

  “Argh!” She jumped back, batting at her ear. “I told you not to do that!”

  “You weren't very clear. I think I got confused.”

  “I hate you!”

  He just laughed.

  Did Niala buy the ultra-secret weapon?

  


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