Stan	Chef, what's a prostitute?
Chef	Dag-nabbit children! How come every time you come in here you've got to be asking me questions I shouldn't be answering? "Chef, what's a clitoris? What's a lesbian, Chef? How come they call it a rim job, Chef?". For once, can't you kids come in here and say "Hey Chef, nice day isn't it?
Stan	Hey Chef, nice day isn't it?
Chef	It sure is, thank you.

Southpark

 

What is a strap-on, Milady?

Mariette

 

Honestly, my escape plan worked much better than I dared to hope. Much better. I had expected to work like a slave for the king for weeks if not months before I would get the chance to escape. Well, maybe not months.

As soon as I was through the palace gate I updated my list.

 

1. escape plan, accomplished
2. more time, accomplished
3. keep as many options open as possible, accomplished
4. survival, ongoing
5. coffee!
6. gather information, ongoing
7. establish contacts
8. temple
9. guilds

Coffee is important! Without coffee, efficient development and production is almost unthinkable. Life without coffee is possible - but USELESS!

 

Mentally I checked off the first 3 topics. The rule of threes is useful to straighten one's priorities. I breathe. Still. Although I do not know whether I could survive even 3 days without coffee I had to take care willy-nilly first for a short-term accommodation. The most obvious choice would probably be a hotel but more likely an inn or tavern.

 

"Mariette, what is the best inn in town and how far away is it? Until I find something more appropriate we need a place to sleep." Mariette immediately supplied me with the answer "I know that most of the King's guests stay at Les Beautes Onereuses. It's no more than a 10 minute walk. The prices, however, are very high. A gold piece a day I have heard, Lady Laura." I liked the reference to Edward's other guests. Opportunities and options.

"Very well. It will have to do for a short time. Lead us there, Mariette!" I liked the sight before me. Promising.

 

Getting the ... hmmm I'll call it "penthouse" was refreshingly easy. Amazing what a letter of introduction from Edward AND my willingness to pay 10 gold pieces a day can do. The staff went above and beyond to get the rooms ready for us. Highly recommended.

 

But before I could retire for the night - and give Mariette her well-deserved reward - I wanted to have tomorrow prepared. After all, what am I paying a premium for?

 

"Concierge. You will run a few errands for me this very day. Send a seamstress to my rooms immediately for an emergency job. I need some clothing more appropriate for this city. I wish breakfast tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock. Inform the captain of the City Guard that I wish to see him. On time. Make the following appointments with the masters of the following guilds: at 10:00 Trade Guild, at 12:00 Craft Guild, at 14:00 Alchemical Guild and at 16:00 Adventurers Guild. I expect a concise list of the most important people within the city from you tomorrow morning. Do you understand, concierge?" Pleasantly, that was the case. It pays to employ professionals. "Very well, Milady Ambassador."

 

Bath. Seamstress. Reward. In that order.

 

Unfortunately, I had not counted on the efficiency of the concierge. The seamstress knocked on my door before I could even order Mariette to take off our clothes. Curse it.

 

It took me a few tries to get my ideas of appropriate city attire straight, but in the end a few pictures from my smartphone and a quick drawing on some paper stopped her objections. I just can't understand what is lewd about a dark grey officer's ulanka with a high collar, a row of 7 gold buttons each on the right and left, bright red cuffs, borders and seams plus tight riding pants and high black boots. The seamstress looked kind of relieved when she realized that she didn't have to get a costume for a noblewoman ready by tomorrow morning. Apparently, this was a nightmare for dressmakers. When I took off my clothes for the measuring, I earned enthusiastic exclamations at the sight of my underwear. Sexy underwear has not arrived here yet. Opportunities and Options. I'll be having a conversation with Lady Seamstress in a few days about a business partnership. Laura's Secrets somehow has a good ring to it.

 

While the two took my measurements, I was overcome by an intuition. And no, I don't know why my upper left lip curled upward. I order for Mariette a somewhat simpler, single-breasted uniform skirt for adjutants in the same color. Tight around the waist, the pants skin-tight around the butt. In the same color. It was important to me to emphasize her "rack."

For measuring, of course, Mariette has to take off her clothes. I was happy to help with the measuring, of course. Stimulating my appetite.

I sent the seamstress, her name is Cebille, to her overnight work with a reminder that I expected our clothes promptly at 7:30. Finally. Time for body care.

 

Mariette has experience helping another woman bathe. However, no experience bathing WITH another woman. Especially with me. Purr.

I instructed her in detail where to soap and wash me.

Each. Single. Square centimeter. Of. My. Body. Extensively!

 

While standing, she had to spend minutes treating any dirt around my breasts with soap using her hands. For some reason, a lot of dirt had accumulated there and on my butt. Don't ask me why. For my bottom, I made her kneel down before turning my back to her. Apparently not used to this intimacy in assisting, her head glowed an impressive red. However, I managed to increase her blush by two levels when I unmistakably ordered her to clean my two "private" places in detail. With a breathed "At your service, milady Laura." she obediently washed my pussy and butt hole. Slowly. And I paid close attention to her delicately cleaning each spot. Gentle stroking has the BEST effect. Really. Oh yesssss, just like that. Very relaxing. There's nothing like a woman helping with the bath. Really nothing. Maybe some more women? My moans as she stroked my "private" places also generated a certain pride in her. Rightly so. An obedient slave finds pride in arousing her mistress. For her excitement? I would sacrifice myself for that. As a good mistress, I make sure that a woman submissive to me finds her fulfillment. But no one can forbid that I also have fun, right?

 

I sat down in the tub and ordered her to sit with her back to me. Her tits also needed a thorough cleaning. And serious attention. My attention.

 

I gave her nipples my special affection and stroked them with my fingertips, gently twirling them, pulling lightly on them until I could feel little hard gems. Mariette's breathing quickened and her soft sighs deepened. Whispering softly in her ear "I will reward you tonight, sweet Mariette, like you've never been rewarded before." I kissed her neck. Every time I heard a moan I sucked lightly on that spot with my lips. Increased her arousal and lust, constantly confusing her senses further. "You like it when I stroke your nipples, don't you Mariette? You're not going to lie to me, are you? Your nipples are sooo hard between my fingers it must just please you." "Yes, Milady. No way, Milady. Ohhhhhhh." Time to add a little more intensity and volume to her voice. My right hand slowly moved down to her thigh. I gently let my fingertips glide along her skin to her knee and then gently up the delicate inside of her thigh to just before her pubic mound. She felt intensely how the tips of my fingers drew circles over the sensitive flesh. Each time moving a tiny bit closer to her labia. As her sighs turned into moans, my left hand joined in, doubling her sensations. She was so delightfully sensitive and responded wonderfully. I could play on Mariette like a violin. Delicious.

 

However, the hair on her sex had to disappear in any case. No matter whether my bed warmer or just simple maid. I allowed only shaved women in my proximity. And yes, of course I would sacrifice myself with passion to achieve this state. I cared about my property.

 

It was divine how much she enjoyed my fingers on her labia. Mariette's moans showed me unfailingly what got her going. I neglected her clit. For her pearl I had other plans. Later. Until then, Mariette had to do without more. I allowed her only my fingers. Based on her sounds though, she didn't seem to complain about my neglect.

 

"YEEEESSSS. Milady! PLEASE, PLEASE, Milady! MORE! OHHHHHHHHH!"

 

Well, when I'm asked so politely. Of course I give in to the pleading. I can't deny a woman her orgasm after all. That would be cruel. And there's always time for that later, isn't there?

 

To be honest, I let her beg for another five minutes. Desperately begging. Before I sent her over the edge and finally let her come. Mariette took a while in my loving, protective embrace until her quivering slowly subsided. She leaned against me. Time for something exciting. Isn't it?

 

"You liked that, didn't you, Mariette? You liked it very much, didn't you, Mariette? Or will you dare to lie to me?" - "Oh yes, Milady. I feel indescribable, Milady."

"Then I think it's time I rewarded you at last. You must be very impatient already. Don't you think so, Mariette?" - "My reward, Milady?" she squeaked cutely. Show Time.

"But of course. That little bit of bathing together isn't a reward after all. Get out of the tub and dry off, Mariette!" Oh, how I love it when those doe eyes get big. That uncertainty and .... anticipation. Time for some humiliation. I don't nibble on hair. You know.

 

"Lie down on the bed, little one. We have one tiny detail to take care of before you get your reward. You don't mind, do you? You want to be rewarded by me, don't you, Mariette?" - "Oh yes, Milady. Never, Milady. Oh please yes, Milady." It's so much fun to make a woman do and think exactly what you want with words. Priceless.

 

I never leave home without some minimum equipment. And actually, I was planning to play with Keiko instead of being unexpectedly transported to another world. However, I am a big girl and always face reality. And if Keiko is denied to me by circumstances, I am not too shy to have fun with Mariette. Equipped with a disposable razor from my backpack and some soap, I commanded "Spread your thighs, sweetie. I will shave you bare. You'll love your reward afterwards, I promise."

Of course, I generously wiped away her concerns and protests. A young woman who looks after herself takes care of any unwanted hair. And I do not want any hair between the legs of Mariette. The quiet whining due to the humiliating shaving by me was pure music to my ears. Normally I would have left a landing strip in the middle but there was still time later. Only after she lay clean-shaven in front of me I was satisfied. So to speak.

With admiration I praised her "Your pussy looks so beautiful. I love the way you look. You should be proud, Mariette." She really blossomed. "Thank you so much, Milady. But Milady is much more beautiful than me, Milady." Aww, I too am susceptible to compliments. But not so much that they distract me from the essential or even my goals. I know my eyes are glistening as I slowly push her thighs up until her knees are pressed to the right and left of her breasts on the mattress. She lies completely open and defenseless before me, exposed to my hungry gaze. And the snake fixate the rabbit. I whisper my breath lightly over her freshly shaved skin before asking "Ready for your reward, Mariette?" and kissing her pertly protruding clit with my lips. Her response consisted only of a deep, animalistic moan. I suppose that means yes?

 

It needs to be said. There is a difference between men and women in oral sex. An intuitive difference. Men are not bad when they satisfy a woman orally, not at all. Unlike women, however, they lack the instinctive understanding of what pleases a woman during oral sex. Men have to learn long and often what women like. And many women do not have the patience to teach it to them. Men therefore start out at a disadvantage, so to speak.

 

Sorry guys. Better luck next time. You can do it. Work hard!

 

My lips and tongue were all over Mariette's pussy. And left her hanging just before her climax. The tip of my tongue circled her pearl of pleasure. Withdrew to breathe light kisses on her pubic mound. Her labia felt my teeth nibbling on her tender, sensitive flesh. I had all the time in the world. My kisses on her thighs alternated with gentle bites on her bottom. When my tongue slid over her sacred opening I always waited until her pelvis lifted towards me. Whenever Mariette was about to come I either withdrew or distracted her with light pain. I feasted and enjoyed her growing desperation. And I wanted to hear her beg for fulfillment until I softened. Every time I teased her clit her reaction made my ego ring. Mariette was quite vocal. Even if sometimes incomprehensible. Clearly she enjoyed my pleasure torture beyond measure.

In the end she surrendered and started pleading "PLEASE, PLEASE, MILADY. PLEASE MAKE ME COME. MILADYYY! OH PLEASE!" and I heard her.

My tongue danced around her pearl screaming for attention and my thumb gently massaged the muscle of her rear entrance. The added sensation plunged her over the edge into the abyss of her well-deserved climax. The screaming was certainly audible. Her muscles trembled in afterglow of her orgasm. I can't say if it was the best climax of her life. But it was certainly something special. Although I would have liked to go on and get a few more climaxes myself, reason prevailed. With some regret I lay down next to her and snuggled up to Mariette before I covered us both. I had no shortage of ideas for another time.

 

With that image, I closed my eyes and slept like a villainess. Indeed.

 

Getting up at oh dark hundred. Brutal.

 

But necessary. The alarm in my smartphone woke me up just before 6am. I had resolved to check something at the earliest opportunity.

 

<Inventory>

 

To say I had a divine revelation would not be appropriate. First, the gods are assholes and second, what I saw was even much better. And much better was the understatement of the year.

 

It wasn't just everything I had built myself. It was everything in the inventory that I had PRODUCED myself. Even beer. Wine. Drawings of machines and plans. Fucking awesome!

 

Alright, all my chestnut men and pictures from kindergarten are NOT awesome. Embarrassing, maybe?

 

Well there were a few items I was really keen on. My multi-voltage converter. No more worries about the battery level. Charging is a piece of cake, generating electricity is easy if you understand the physics and have the material.

My distillery would help me a lot. I can build a new one, but this one is already finished and can provide alcohol in no time.

A few things I would classify as "secret weapons". Better I keep these under wraps for now.

 

One of these "secret weapons", however, I would already ... put to my side. Or better strap it?

 

Perhaps I should remind you about my time in the armed forces again. The special civic service, you know. There's a kind of tradition there, soldiers are often shown things of military interest. Border installations. Special departments in museums. And sometimes you're allowed into the production facilities of manufacturers of military hardware. Ships. Airplanes. Tanks. Vehicles. And weapons. I was at Heckler & Koch. German traditional manufacturer of weapons. For gun enthusiasts like the El Dorado. For me as a machine geek? Valhalla. I worked the lead engineer until he allowed the whole group to operate the production machines.

Each. Individual. Damned. Step. Every component. All the way to assembly. And it wasn't just the gun. Everyone was allowed to make the ammunition, too. Up to test firing.

 

I held in my hands my self-made HK P12. Including silencer and insane 1000 rounds of ammo. Fuck off sword bastards!

 

On second thought, the pistol was not really a "secret weapon" no matter how useful or deadly it might be. All right, I admit it, it isn't a high-powered weapon. Not an UBER gun. Accurate and handy, but as far as guns go, nothing outstanding. But it is the pistol made by myself, personally. Engineers love everything they made. Come to mama, my little baby! I love you, little one. Don´t shiver, nobody will paint you pink.

 

The real superweapons were in my backpack and in my head. The rest were just bonuses. Nice to have.

 

Looking at my possessions, I counted at least three secret superweapons from the UBER equivalent. And a few niceties.

 

I would need children. As many as possible. I took a deep breath and exhaled, silently weeping at my misfortune.

 

Curses!

 

I stowed my backpack and its contents minus my notebook in my inventory. Pretty useful when you no longer have to lug heavy things but can park them in a weightless dimension bag.

 

Back to work. My magic "manipulations" showed me that I could or should define units of measurement for fine control. So that the "system" and I also understood each other. With the temperature scale of Celsius this worked wonderfully. But that was only a crutch. Let's start at zero. Absolute zero.

 

<The absolute zero of temperature is defined as 0 Kelvin.>

<0 °C corresponds to 273.15 Kelvin and 100 °C corresponds to 373.15 K.>

<Kinetic energy is the energy inherent in the state of motion of a body. It is proportional to the mass and to the square of the velocity relative to the inertial frame in which one describes the body.>

<The potential energy of a body with mass in a homogeneous gravitational field with gravitational acceleration is proportional to the height above the origin of the coordinate system.>

<The thermal energy is the energy stored in the disordered motion of the atoms or molecules of a substance.>

<The thermodynamic temperature is directly proportional to the thermal energy.>

 

... some time later ...

I was painfully aware of how long I had to work through this list before I had it complete to my satisfaction. It could not be done in one go.

I defined primarily everything that had to do with mechanics. More from intuition I threw in the periodic table of the elements and how chemical molecules form and react.

 

Title acquired: Deep Thinker

Title acquired: Inspired Alchemist

 

Fortunately, all math is universal. At least I thought so. Or is and the "system" is a bit twisted. Headache.

 

I was a bit embarrassed as my titles piled up the more areas of math I skimmed.

It's just not right after a correct solution to have algebra, calculus, topology ... titles sort of thrown at you. It is just not right.

 

Title acquired: Mathematician

Title acquired: Great Mathematician

Title acquired: Mathematical Prodigy

 

After an hour, I was mentally exhausted.

 

Fortunately, I had a distraction at hand. Before my clothing order rushed through my door. Time for my morning toilet.

 

The bathroom facilities were, in a word, terrible. A pot and some kind of plant leaves. I made do with a damp cloth. Necessarily. Some soap and warm water made me feel clean. Just so. But my solution was still blissfully asleep in bed.

 

"Mariette, wake up. Your services are needed, sleepyhead." I don't know what woke her up faster, my voice or my hand between her legs. Result was that she was visibly red again washing my "private" areas again. I would have enjoyed her "oral ministrations" more but I had set a tight schedule myself for today.

 

At 7:30 in the morning, a knock on the door signaled the arrival of Cebille with our order. We improvised a chaste impression with sheets covering our underwear before I let Mariette open the door.  Cebille looked a bit sleepy. So did the two young ladies who carried our clothes in. I like it when someone puts effort into their work to satisfy the customer on time.

 

My uniform fit perfectly. Intimidating, dashing, snappy, skin-tight tailored and sexy as hell. My face said it all about my satisfaction. Traitor.

Cebille beamed with pride. Rightfully so.

Mariette had problems with her pants, as planned, I had eventually insisted that the butt area should be tight. Her underpants unfortunately drew unsightly folds under the fabric.

 

"That will not work. You would make me a laughing stock, Mariette. Maybe if we left the underpants off." Gasps set in from the rest of the ladies. "No. You'd keep getting the new pants dirty. We need a temporary solution until we can get you some decent underwear, Mariette. But you represent me now and I can't have you running around messy. No, no protest."

 

I happened to have thin, small square piece of fabric and a cord on hand. I put the cord around her back and knotted the ends at the tails in front of her belly. In two more moves, the loincloth became an improvised thong. Simply knot another piece of cord at the back, pull the fabric into the crotch and fasten it as well.

 

The pants fit like a glove. Except for Mariette, the other women looked at me slightly in awe. Cebille was thoughtful. "Cebille, the job has been completed to my complete satisfaction. As a bonus for your haste, I am doubling the payment. In addition, I would like to commission another pair, this time in dark green. How about we meet the day after tomorrow to talk about doing business together? It would be helpful if all the fabrics that are worked with here are available for viewing. Around afternoon would be comfortable for me."

I was not really surprised by Cebille's quick agreement. An astute woman like her recognizes opportunities.

 

8 o'clock. Time for breakfast. I was hungry.

 

Breakfast was - disappointing. For two reasons.

 

First, the bread was hard and flat like stone. Edible but not a relish. The selection of vegetables, cold cuts and eggs was fine. I ordered the cook to come to me to confirm that it was a very good breakfast. Upon my request, the staff brought me milk, butter and cream.

For good bread you need yeast and lactic acid bacteria. And I had both on hand. The cook was instructed to make himself available this evening. I had a task for him.

 

Secondly, there was no captain of the City Guard before me. I had insisted on punctuality. A pity.

 

The puzzle was solved by studying the list of the most important people in the city. The name of the captain was Guy de Fawkes. Older brother of Jamaine de Fawkes. Eldest son of Count Hilbert de Fawkes. Jamaine de Fawkes, former captain of the palace guard. Such a small world after all. I was undecided whether the genetic basis of the brothers or their growing up was to blame for their demeanor.

 

The concierge, Paul, confirmed that my message had reached both the guardhouse and his family's estate. Confidentially, he confirmed seeing Guy being handed my letter through one in the fence. I wondered how the elder brother would react if I "borrowed" some escorts from the town guard. When I asked, both Mariette and Paul confirmed that the City Guard also employed female guards. Excellent.

 

"Mariette! Lead me to the quarters of the City Guard. I have many appointments to make today. And I don't like to be unpunctual."

As we walked through the city, I explained to her that the uniform showed her new position as my adjutant.

"I have several expectations of you on my part in your promotion, Mariette. You are no longer a simple maid. You will assist me in all things. In all! If you don't lead me, you'll walk a half step to the left behind me. You will introduce me. Take care in advance that you know everyone's name. No more curtsying or bowing for you. You take posture. When I give you an order or a task, you click the heels of your boots together. When you do your thing well you are rewarded. You liked your reward, didn't you, Mariette? Tonight I will explain what you have to do in my service. Until then, try not to embarrass me. Be attentive. Do you understand, Mariette?"

"At your service, Milady!" I was sooo looking forward to tonight.

 

Just before reaching the guardhouse, I gestured for Mariette to announce me as I entered.

"I present, Ambassador Lady Laura!" The guards present took no posture. Fortunately, however, the room was silent.

"Where is this scum of a cretin who can call himself a captain? Guy de Fawkes? Is this incompetent Edward unable as king to get at least a few competent men in leadership positions. Or has he bought himself the position?" Dead silence. That happens sometimes when one's own captain and the sovereign of the country are insulted and belittled in the same breath.

"Why is no one taking a stand in this mess? There is an ambassador present." You don't have to shout to get your agenda across. A little ice in the voice is more effective.

"You." pointing a finger at the nearest guard in front of me, "Where is Captain de Fawkes?"

"At your service, Ambassador Lady Laura. The captain is still at his family's estate. He never appears in the morning." "Who is the senior guard present?" "Sergeant Munn, Milady Ambassador." pointing to the man behind the counter.

"Sergeant Munn. My letter of recommendation from the king. Having already had to beat up his brother in the palace, I'm almost not surprised that your captain is similarly incompetent. I hope he's not sleeping off a buzz." The good sergeant took speechless note of my remark about Jamaine. But handed me back my credentials with the words, "How can the City Guard be of service to you, Milady Ambassador?" There was hope for some members of the City Guard.

 

"To avoid the same tragedies as in the palace, the City Guard will provide me with 6 guards as escorts. I wish to have female guards. I lose patience too quickly with men. 3 guards will be permanently near me. Which female guards have just gone on duty?" It was excellent that Sergeant Munn did not question my demands but only pointed to 3 women.

 

"You three, what is your name and rank?"

"Private Dahuna, Milady Ambassador!"

"Private Laton, Milady Ambassador!"

"Lance Corporal Ritte, Milady Ambassador!"

"You three will escort me during the day until further notice. Your relief is to assemble at Les Beautes Onereuses at 7:30 pm. Guard changes are at 8:00 and 8:00 each night. This is my aide-de-camp, Mariette. All questions will go through her. Do you understand?" - "At your service, Milady Ambassador!"

 

"Sergeant Munn. I advise Captain de Fawkes to address any questions to the king. Although even his brother already expressed in the presence of the king, the king's guests he would not care. Well, Edward said he would take care of him. I would have castrated Jamaine. Do you understand?" - "At your service, Milady Ambassador!"

 

The guards couldn't believe their ears. And I hadn't even lied. In tow with my 3 new escorts, we made our way to the Trade Guild.

 

Guildmaster Mort Chawer was hopefully on time.

 

A friendly young man stood outside the door and opened it courteously.

"Welcome, Milady Ambassador. Guildmaster Chawer is expecting you. Please allow me to show you the way, Milady Ambassador."  This was how I wanted to be received. "Lead the way, young man."

Making our way through the building, the staff bowed to me as soon as we came into view. Well prepared. The guild master had to want something from me. In other words, he wanted to earn something. The goal of any venture is to make a profit. And this place was swarming with traders like sharks around a school of fish. One injured fish in the water and the feeding frenzy begins.

"Guildmaster, I present Ambassador Lady Laura. Honored Ambassador, I present to you the Master of the Trade Guild Mort Chawer."

Handing over my recommendation letter, I addressed the guildmaster, "Good morning, Guildmaster Chawer. As you may have heard, I had the misfortune of being Edward's guest yesterday. Your king does not seem to have a happy hand when it comes to personnel." I sat down and continued. "The suddenness in which Edward invited me caught me by surprise and so my affairs back home were interrupted. I am here today because I want to trade and make various products that will probably find interest here." One shark to another. "Therefore, Guildmaster, what is necessary to establish a trading company here? What duties and taxes, if any, must be paid? Are there laws to follow in production and trade? I own some manufacturing processes and need to know if I can "sell" the principle to interested parties and if the guild will defend my rights against theft."

Mort Chawer leaned back in his chair. "Milady Ambassador, registering a trading company is the easiest thing in the world. All you have to do is write down the name and the guild will take care of the rest. As long as the guild is involved in the processing, we automatically collect the taxes to be paid and charge a small fee for our trouble." Translation and we'll suck the blood out of you.

"As for laws, there are no laws. Every member of the respective guilds can trade and manufacture to their heart's content. However, you have caught my interest. What do you mean by owning and selling manufacturing processes?" Gotcha.

"Guildmaster Chawer, I cannot believe that there are no patents here. Please allow me a small demonstration to explain. However, it goes without saying that I expect something in return should the guild adopt the principle of the patent." He was slightly disappointed that I made this demand. He probably wanted to profit on his own.

 

I put two bottles on the desk and meant to bring us 4 glasses. My request for glasses led to some widened eyes in the room.

 

"If no glasses are available, cups will have to suffice. However, the experience is not as well keep that in mind right now." I opened the first bottle and poured for both of us. Chawer, as my guest, would of course have a good amount and I settled for a tiny one. My schedule for today was full and busy.

"Guild master, please taste. This is a wine that grows on our estates." and wet my lips. A good Riesling. Not perfect but it was also only the 2nd harvest of these vines.

Although he tried to hide it, you could tell Chawer wanted this wine. Absolutely. I felt he was tempted to downplay the taste. Even though I like to see his eagerness, this was wine from our estate after all.

 

"I was at the palace yesterday and what I was served there was a plonk in comparison, Guildmaster. You agree with me, don't you? But I am happy to pay you for the bottle of wine that tastes better. If you have such wine available." - "Oh no, Milady Ambassador. It is as you say, this wine surpasses anything we have in Nuldur." - "Thank you very much, guild master. I am honored. Please do keep the rest of the bottle to yourself." Guildmaster Chawer was very pleased. I was relatively indifferent to the bottle. Yes, I had a limited supply. But at 100 hectoliters, one bottle didn't matter. And I knew how to grow wine. I just needed decent grapes and a good location. But the real point came next. The wine was only the bait.

"This, Guildmaster, is a distillate of the same wine. An extract you might say. This distillate is also called brandy." Again I filled our cups. "Take your cup in your hand and swirl it gently. Let the brandy warm slightly. Inhale the aroma. Take a small sip in your mouth and wait a moment before drinking."

You didn't have to be a merchant to see what the brandy would be worth to Chawer. And I knew he would make gold by the pile with it.

"Regrettably, you would first need a much better wine than Mitoran could produce. However, that brandy is not what I want to patent." Chawer's conflict was cute. "I want to patent the method of distillation. It can be used to fortify any alcoholic beverage. Of course, I'm also considering selling distillates. But more as a side income."

 

"What I envision is I patent my method to the Guild. The guild sells my method to interested parties for a small price. In exchange, I am compensated one percent of the sales price for each liter of distillate produced. The guild simply collects the money during the normal transaction of the business and credits it to my account. Of course, both the distillery and the guild have to keep accurate records. Not that anyone underreports and cheats us all. I'm sure the guild knows exactly how to deal with cheaters from their own ranks."

 

It was clear that Chawer really wanted the idea of the patent for the guild. The power gain and the gold that would flow into the guild would be enormous.

 

I still registered my trading company in the guild master's office and he recommended a reliable markler to acquire a site for my needs. Some of my ideas would need space. To be sure, I registered the intention to patent the method of a distillery, a new form of bread, the way of making cement, manufacturing glass and mirrors. None of it was really important. However, I would earn a lot from it.

 

Chawer was allowed to keep the bottle of brandy. It sweetened the bitter pill that I would now obtain a seat or vote for the idea of the patent.

 

Before I said goodbye, I handed him an envelope. The guild was to put together everything they knew about the gangs and other criminal elements and make it available to me. Also contacts if there were any "misunderstandings". If the Guild knew nothing, I had to dig in the dirt myself. I didn't think Guy would be any help.

 

As soon as we left the guild building, I quietly quoted Gordon Gekko "The point, ladies and gentlemen, is that greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right. Greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit."

"Milady?" - "Just words from a merchant, Mariette. Nothing important." But Mariette seemed to have grasped the spirit of the words. "You describe merchants very aptly, Milady."

 

Mariette, as my aide-de-camp, that was one of her duties, held all the papers from the Trade Guild in her hands. Unhappy.

"Mariette, remind me to see a leather craftsman or saddler after our visit. Waving important papers around like that is unseemly. You will need a briefcase and portfolio." - "At your service, Milady."

 

I was ambivalent about my meeting with the master of the craft guild. Engineers like to maintain a good relationship with the people who build and implement their machines and things. However, their ranks were heavily overcrowded with men who prefer to see women behind the stove rather than the forge. An intelligent female engineer, however, knows how friction resistance is most easily overcome. I bought two metal cups.

"Guildmaster Hamma, I present Ambassador ..." - "Yes, yes, Ambassador Lady Laura, I know, I CAN still hear what any messengers bring me news. Well girl, what's so important that you interrupt my work? You'd be better off minding your chick stuff than stealing honest working men's time." Deja vu. Isn't it?

 

I thundered a bottle of my brandy with the two metal cups onto his crowded table, filled his cup to the brim - mine just a tiny bit - handed him his cup and held mine up "Shut up, old man. If you still haven't figured out or realized why I'm here, get your tuition money back. Before we talk business, let's have a toast. It's hard to talk with a dry throat. Cheers!"

Lubricant. I hardly know any craftsmen who say no to an invitation to drink.

As expected, Charl Hamma plunged his cup down his throat in one go. And as expected, he gasped for air afterwards.

"Well old man, can't you take a sip of good liquor, or what? Here, I'll leave you the bottle, then you can practice. Maybe you'll become a master yet." - "Aye lass. Hahahaha. Practice makes perfect. Hohohohoooo. You're a girl after my own heart. Let's hear what you want."

 

When in Rome, act like a Roman. When you talk to a worker, talk like a worker. And fill him up.

 

"Listen old man. I came to you because I need people who can work. Not just work well, but work well and reliably. Not wannabes. I've heard you're the man for the job. So you better recommend me the best people your guild has. You're supposed to be the best here in town so don't make a fool of me Charl."

"The next thing is I want to open up a series of workshops. The trade guild is nice and pretty but we both know that dirty hands are honest hands. I want to join the craft guild and I've got some stuff in the bag that's going to make some real dust. Interested, old man?" I had to hand it to Charl, he wasn't distracted by my teasing.

 

"What kind of stuff, girl? And this stuff is the best oil I've ever been bottled with."

No compliments, Charl, until you've seen all my "gifts."

 

"Glass. Mirrors. Cement. Toilets. Bread."

"Aye lass, glass and mirrors I know. For that alone I'd recognize you as a craftsman and admit you to the guild, girl. But to the dust eater, what are cement and toilets? And why bread?"

"You can do a lot of nice things with cement. For example, in a short time to raise stable walls or pour ceilings. Toilets? Well tell me old man, isn't it damn uncomfortable to squat over a pot or hole in the ground? And bread? I'll buy you breakfast, be at Les Beautes Onereuses at 8:00 tomorrow."

"And yes, Charl. I don't want our guild craftsmen to lose their jobs just because some little girl does a much better job. How about everyone knows how to do it? I have an idea how we can get together."

"Hahahaha. Aye lass, you got the right attitude girl. Explain things to me and I'll get the papers written for your guild membership in the meantime."

 

Unfortunately, making magical items was a privilege of the Mage Guild. Frustrating. But I left the guild with a list of craftsmen recommended by Charl. That is, Mariette had the list and the other documents. After all, what do I have an aide for?

 

After visiting the leatherworker, I was a bit annoyed. Oh, he was very quick to make me a briefcase and portfolio in the design I wanted. In record time of under a day. But trying to persuade me from a stylized eagle as an appropriate decoration to a fish symbol irritated my nerves. It wasn't until I pointedly tapped my coins that he realized the error of his ways. I ended my stay in the store by ordering another matching shoulder and belt holster complete with straps and belt. And an off-the-shelf bag for the documents Mariette was desperately hoarding by now.

 

She looked somehow grateful.

 

The first unfriendly disturbance of the day occurred when we grabbed a bite together at the snack stands. The lance corporal picked out all the specialties on offer. I invited. No matter how well paid guards are, they don't hold back when there's a free buffet.

A little pickpocket tried to relieve me of a few coins. Tried because I had chosen my escort wisely. Private Dahuna squeezed his hand as if in a vise before his fingers could even dip into the pocket. Oh, don't worry, even if Dahun had not intervened, there was no danger of my hard-pressed gold being stolen. Where a pickpocket would expect to find the coins was an extra pocket with a snap trap. And yes, I was kind of hoping someone would try to steal the trap. I like to surprise someone.

 

Dahuna looked at me questioningly. "Private Dahuna. Proceed as usual. I trust you to find the correct punishment." - "At your service, Milady Ambassador!"

Dahuna broke every single finger. Twice. His screams drew some attention from the surrounding crowd. "Impressive, Private Dahuna." - "Thank you very much, Milady Ambassador. May I ask how thieves are punished in your country, Milady Ambassador?"-"It varies, Private Dahuna. Some go to the dungeon and others have their hand chopped off."

 

<Fill the crotch of the pants of the man in front of me with three cups of 38 degree Celsius yellow colored water laced with urea.>

 

"With this person, however, that doesn't seem necessary. He seems sufficiently impressed, Private Dahuna. Proceed."

 

I know what I am doing is a trick and not true fear. But it had some appeal and hopefully will have an effect later.

Mariette collected his dagger and what coins he had with him. She could probably use it.

 

While we were trying through the offers, I constantly had the feeling that something would be missing. It was strange. Almost an imperative to do something specific. Like a craving to eat chocolate at all costs. Or appetite for something in particular. Perplexing. I ignored the feeling. Before we went on our way again I bought a few things. Potatoes, eggs, vinegar, oil, tomatoes, sugar, salt, sausage, spices, curry - food like that - as if I was shopping at the farmer's market for back home. Somehow liberating. Nice feeling.

 

The second unfriendly interference occurred on our way to my third meeting. Unfavorably, for the interrupter, I had remembered the trick with the four invisibles in my negotiation with Edward. And pimped out the vampire heartbeat locator a bit. All invisible creatures were now shown with a bright red aura and supplemented with a ping sound like a SONAR. The closer the faster. Very effective.

 

I stepped aside as the assassin tried to plunge his dagger into my back and sped up his fall. It is only understandable that I wanted to know who wanted me dead. Why? Reciprocity.

 

My escort watched fascinated as the assassin became visible lying in the dust. Mariette kindly suggested breaking both arms this time. It is advisable to listen to good advice. Gladly I give her the small pleasure.

The screams became somehow hysterical. What may be related to the fact that the broken and dislocated arms were tied to his back. Unfortunately, I did not have time for an interrogation. I had an appointment. And I didn't want to be late.

"Private Dahuna and Laton. The nice man here will accompany us. Maybe he has some nice fairytale to tell." - "At your service, Milady Ambassador!"

 

Gina de Bientu was a strikingly warm and intelligent woman. Which surprised me. From my experience, women had to fight hard to get into a senior administrative position. My impression was that the person with the most knowledge had made it to master of the Alchemy Guild.

De Bientu was also surprisingly understanding when I parked my interrogatee along with my escort in front of her office. Not everyone likes to hear cries of pain while working. At my Aunt Natasha's, of course, this background noise is part of the job description and is desired.

The terms for joining the Alchemy Guild were refreshingly straightforward. One gold piece per month and then you could pursue your experimentation to your heart's content. Only when opening a store did you have to prove the efficacy of your concoction under guild supervision.

 

Gina invited me to visit her in her laboratory and I could check if I possessed the qualities of an alchemist.

 

She asked me at the end of our conversation if it was true that I had reduced Jamaine de Fawkes to a blubbering wreck and wanted to castrate him. Of course I could not lie and confirmed the rumors by adding the missing details and citing Mariette as an eyewitness.

I guess Jamaine didn't have a good reputation. Gina happily congratulated me but warned me about the de Fawkes family. When I suggested that I demonstrate the technique to her on my prisoner, she enthusiastically agreed.

 

"Ladies. Put the delinquent against the wall and step behind me. Corporal, you might also be interested in this. Watch all his reactions." and smiling used my pepper spray.

The ladies were very impressed. The assassin, too, of course. But by far not so positive. While the ladies asked me if they could buy this product, his comments were almost incomprehensible. Something about " Mercy. Help. Please stop."

 

Maybe I should take advantage of the moment. If the delinquent is already in the mood, I shouldn't waste the occasion. Besides, I just had some time.

 

"Why should I stop? I am not receptive to listening to whining of assassins and murderers. Maybe when you tell me your sad story. But right now all that's coming out of your mouth is just meaningless noise. No, no. You must be one of the tough ones. Trained to withstand days of torture. I'm sure you could have your eyes burned out and your elephant eggs fried and still no one would hear a peep out of you. Your cries of pain are probably just an act. I think I will offer each of the ladies present here the opportunity to try out my little toy on you. Then I can at least earn some money. Would any of the ladies like to go first?"

Of course, Mariette sacrificed herself. She is, after all, my adjutant. I knew her talent was wasted at the palace!

Mariette asked me in detail how to use the spray and where it would have the most effect.

Unfortunately, our volunteer collapsed before Mariette could press the trigger. She looked a little offended.

 

"Please stop! Please, please! I'll say anything! After Guy de Fawkes heard about how you humiliated his brother in the palace, he ordered me to kill you. I am innocent! I meant no harm! Really, you must believe me! It was Guy de Fawkes."

"You lie, the captain of the City Guard would never allow his guards to be put in danger."

"Milady, mercy! The captain said it would be good. Then he could pin failure on the guards and throw them out of the guard. Please. Please no more!"

"Liar! Guy de Fawkes would NEVER go against the wishes of the king! I'll let the ladies experiment on you!"

"NO! Guy de Fawkes and his father the Count said that they didn't care about the King. No one would be allowed to humiliate the family like that. The de Fawkes have declared a blood feud against you. Please! Mercy! Don't hurt me anymore!"

"If you really speak the truth, I won't hurt you anymore. Swear that everything you said is the truth!"

"I swear it. It's all true, by the gods! It was the de Fawkes I got a hundred gold pieces for the job."

"Mariette, go and see. If you find the hundred gold pieces you know what you have to do." - "At your service, Milady!"

 

Mariette found the gold. Well it was only 95 gold pieces. The de Fawkes must have been stingy. Since I said I wouldn't hurt him anymore Mariette kicked his valuables. What? I had said I would not hurt him anymore. Not that NOBODY would hurt him anymore.

 

"Lady de Bientu, no Gina, I thank you for your warning. It was more than justified, it seems to me. Forgive me for exposing you to such an unpleasant sight."

"Lance Corporal Rides. Privates Dahuna and Laton. I know that you are in conflict because of the assassin's statements. I will not deny you to stand before your captain. If you want to be relieved of your duty as escort, I can understand that."

The three guardswomen went into posture position due to my motivational speech and assured me "We are faithfully at your service, Milady Ambassador!"

 

Gina informed me that a blood feud was not over until one of the parties was wiped out. The king would have no right to interfere and would have to remain neutral. The winner who was remaining at the end would get everything.

 

Opportunities and options. It was good that I had not simply killed Jamaine. But there was one detail that bothered me.

"Gina, do I have to kill all de Fawkes? Starting with the Count and all his family, and ending with all the servants? Even the children?"

Fortunately, that was not necessary. I just had to kill all the men in the de Fawkes family. From the count to the last adult heir. Hilbert, Guy, Jamaine, and the nestling Trabain.

A bit short-sighted in my eyes. What? There are tons of stories and reports according to which the women or the children grew up and then took revenge themselves. But what the heck, I'm a sadist and not a mass murderer on a killing spree.

Opportunities and options. I had a plan. But a Villainess always has at least one plan for every possibility. Decisiveness and lack of inhibition would be necessary. But nothing more. And I could even keep my appointment with the Adventurers Guild. I like to be on time.

 

I asked Gina to go to the palace together with my escort and the assassin and insist on an immediate audience with the king in my name. To hand over the assassin and make known the involvement of the de Fawkes and that a blood feud has been declared.

 

We, on the other hand, would go to the Adventurers' Guild and register me. Before I would take care of the de Fawkes. In conclusion.