Chapter 59: Hard to Read (Patreon)

Author’s note: Hey guys

I wish I could end the month with Chapter 60, but things don't always go as we'd like. Even though I have the chapter roughly written it is nowhere in a state where I dare schedule it for release. Thus, you will have to survive four days without a chapter as I announced earlier.

From Friday, May 31 to Monday, June 3, included, NO chapters. I'm taking the break I feel I so desperately need - no writing, just fun - hopefully.

Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter and see you in June.

Chapter 59: Hard to Read - link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/105224286


─◇─◈─◆────────────────────────────────────────

Chapter 59: Hard to Read

"Miss?" the not-quite-elf asked, his confusion quickly turning to concern as I grew increasingly pissed at myself. "Tits! I said more than I should have. You know what they say . . . it's only a scam if you fall for it, right?"

That familiar saying, apparently spanning the far reaches of the universe, was a hell of a slap in the face. Sure, it could have been a work of the [Eleaden Standard Language] translating whatever he said so that I could make sense of it, but that didn't change the fact that he was right.

"S-sorry, I'm good," I lied after, taking a deep breath and once more, much to my dislike, hitting my mind with the soothing effect of [Indomitable Will].

"Are you sure, because for a moment it looked like . . . ?"

" . . . like what?" I basically snapped.

'That I'll turn into a beast and go feral?'

"That you're gonna rip the ring off along with your finger."

'Huh? What was he babbling about . . . ?'

Looking down, I froze. Instead of strangling my finger, the copper ring now lay in the palm of my right hand, its engraved intricate runic lines ridiculing my foolishness and giving me a harsh reminder: that was no slave collar, no shackles, just a tool to be used.

Embarrassed, I lifted my eyes to Welkes, not really knowing what to say. "S-sorry, bad . . . experience."

"With rings . . . or get scammed? You know what? I don't want to know," he added swiftly, likely thinking that it was how I got to be a Slave. But before I could take a single breath, his eyes brightened up, and he leaned closer. "On second thought, I wouldn't mind listening to you over, say, a drink?"

‘Damn, were all the maybe-elves that insistent?’

"Nice try," I snarled back, surprised at my own rather cocky reaction. Instead of still being pissed at myself, or alarmed that he was so interested in me, his insistent attempts to get me to sit down with him, and probably more, made me feel more at ease, more normal. Like seriously, Captain Rayden herself had warned me that my unusual appearance might attract unwanted attention. And yet here I was, itching to wag my tail.

Regardless of the danger, deep down, I wanted to . . . 

"Shame, isn’t it?" The not-quite-elf smirked knowingly, as he no doubt noticed the blush on my cheeks and paused. "Wait, you're not pissed at me, are you? It's a little hard to get read in you, you know."

'The what now?'

Was he using a weave on me to have a drink with him? 

'No. No, that couldn't be.’

There was no one else in my mind but me. I was sure of that. But then, what did he mean by reading me?

'Oh no! No, no, no!'

Horrified, I checked myself through the domain, fearing that some bestial urge had seeped into my behavior without me noticing. But it hadn't; I was acting normal - if you ignore the fact that I was more than aware of my freakish appearance, bareness, and unused to talking to others.

'Wait. Maybe that was it. This not-quite-elf, this clerk, this bookkeeper, this Welkes, was likely just used to talking to more confident and mature women.'

While the notion came as a relief, it did hurt my pride a little.

"Seriously, I didn't mean anything by it. I just like the wild vibe of yours. Are we good?"

'Shit! So, it was my bestial side getting out! Or did he mean my dirty, disheveled look?'

"You see, I would like to avoid you reporting me."

"W-wait, I can d-do that?"

"Tits! Yes, but please don't. To be honest with you, which I've been all along by the way, it might cost me my job. Sure, it's a boring job, and the pay doesn't compare to that of banks, let alone doing the ledgers for merchants or companies, but I don't have to sit here from dawn to dusk or worry about someone shoving a dagger in my back. You wouldn't believe the peace of mind it can give you."

'If only he knew.'

Despite how stressful the last few days had been, it couldn't compare to the fear I felt every minute in that cellar. A shadow on the stairs, a shuffling of feet above, and I huddled in the corner of my cell.

"It allows me to focus much more on my training with the instructors here," Welkes continued his don't-rat-on-me speech. "And, of course, there's the thing of not having to pay as much for the training . . . so please be of that kindness and don't report me."

"W-well . . . " I stammered, trying to digest everything he had just blurted out at me. "I didn't plan to."

"Ah, you didn't?"

"No, I was . . . I was merely curious about how things work around here. C-could it really cost you your job?"

He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Now that I've told you that much, I may as well tell you. It wouldn't be the first complaint made against me. And before you go in there, I don't ask everyone who walks through that door for a drink. Actually, you're the first - well, second. There's just something about you - I don't know - I've never met anyone like you before."

"I get that a lot." No matter how much it annoyed me, being seen as a rare half-Terr'den, being ogled for that reason, was something I had to get used to. Far better, actually, than getting used to being seen as a freak or a feral beast.

"Yeah, I can imagine. Well, since you're such an understanding lady, which I find to be an incredibly rare combination, ask anything."

"T-then . . . what are the others complaining about?"

"Tits!" he swore under his breath, but his smile did not diminish. "Well, if you must know, some people, mostly merchants, traders, companies, thugs, my grandmother, don't appreciate my efforts to warn newcomers like you of their shady practices."

'Oh, so it wasn't the new citizens and refugees who complained, but . . . wait, did he say his grandmother? Well, whatever.'

"A-and those shady practices . . . could you tell me m-more about them - and what places to avoid in the city?"

"Sure, if you promise not to spill the beans on me."

"W-why would I do that?"

"For coins. Ten silvers isn't really that much."

"I . . . I'm not one to - to betray the t-trust of another." Not as long as they don't betray me.

"Traiana's tits! You are so hard to read most of the time, but now . . . it was like a slap of resolve in my face, wow."

'That again.'

"You m-mentioned it before, the reading thing - what is it?"

"Ah, a Bookkeeper thing, a weave. It allows me to gauge what the other person is thinking, what they're going to do, what their take on things is and if they're hiding anything - pretty useful when you're dealing with people generally, especially merchants. But reading your body language is like trying to read several people at once. Would you believe that my weave got a glyph carved while we were talking? Anyway, where do you want me to start? Where to find a decent lodging? Where to eat well? Where to have fun?"

"More like what places to avoid and . . . and what I can afford for the ten - silver coins, was it, right?"

"Imperial Silver Hextes, but hardly anyone calls them that. Silver coins, silvers, generally just coins. All right, the places to avoid. Buckle up because there are quite a few . . . "



─◇─◈─◆────────────────────────────────────────
                                                     Glossary

Previous Chapter . . . . . . . Table of Contents . . . . . . . Next Chapter