The Sixth School Ch. 031

"I will, after all, be representing you in the future," Greg went on speaking. "I need to know the other members of high society so I don't embarrass you," Greg offered an explanation that would make sense to her.

After a small pause to think over his words, the woman smiled. "Forward-thinking," She said, sounding pleased. "I like that," She added. "Fine then, sign the contract and I promise to take you with me to the Mayor's dinner party," She stated.

Greg couldn't help but smile in return even as his hand took hold of the quill and moved across the paper. As soon as the paper was signed, there was a slight shimmer of gold from it before it once again reverted to looking like mundane everyday paper. "Now, how should I refer to you?" he asked with a note of amusement. Here he was, having signed what was probably a ten-year contract with someone whose name he didn't know. If not for the rules of the dungeon asserting that all relationships were reset with every new dungeon trial, this would have been a very stupid move on his part.

"Zarra," The woman answered with a smile as she received the contract from him. "When you and I are alone, you can just refer to me as Zarra," She said turning around and placing the contract on the table so that it was the first thing one would notice when they sat down at the table. "In the presence of company, such as my husband or other guests, you shall refer to me as Mistress Zarra or just mistress for shorthand," She instructed turning back around to him. "Now, come with me," She said as she walked past him and out of the room.

There was no hesitation in Greg as he moved after the woman. Part of it was curiosity. Greg wanted to see where this led. The city was like a grand tapestry of possibility. Greg was just following one of the many threads one could use to play through this particular dungeon. Another part, however, was caution. Greg wasn't willing to test what the contract would consider disobedience and thus a breach of contract. Greg had had a whole morning to figure out that all his sensations worked the same as the outside world. Greg had tripped and fallen several times during the chase and the pain had been just as real as it would be in the real world. Unless Greg wished to find out what kind of torture the contract would subject him to, Greg was this woman's servant for the rest of this dungeon run.

Whenever they passed any of the house servants, they usually paused their work and either bowed or curtsied to the mistress of the house. A few of them glanced his way but none commented on his presence. Greg had looked back on occasion when they passed workers that were in groups of twos and threes. They all just quietly went back to work with barely another glance or comment directed at him. Greg was left to wonder just how stringent the contract they had signed had to be for them to curtail the very human and natural inclination of people to gossip. Here was the mistress of the house with a strange young man that they'd never seen before and they barely even acknowledged it let alone gossiped about it. Like automatons, they just turned back to their work and continued working as if nothing had happened. It was a bit eerie if Greg was being completely honest.

Greg was surprised when they ended up in a small bathhouse off to the side of the main building. "Clean yourself," The woman commanded. "I will be back in a short while with some spare clothes that you can wear while we go to get you fitted for a uniform," She informed him before turning around and walking out of the room.

A slight sheen of steam clung to the surface of the water, telling Greg that the water in this pool was being heated somehow. Greg had so far been ignoring it, but now that he had the opportunity to bathe, he was conscious of just how dirty he'd become in the course of the escape from the spider gang thugs. With a shrug, Greg quickly disrobed and walked into the shallow pool. The water reached up to his belly button when standing. Greg was almost certain that the water was enchanted because of the way his muscles seemed to melt in relaxation the moment he stepped into it. The body he occupied seemed to be a simulacrum of his own. And while the real Roka wasn't out of shape by any means, a whole hour of sprinting would have taken a toll even on him. It was only through an act of will that he began to focus on cleaning himself as opposed to just lying in the water and allowing it to caress him.

Greg had been at it for a few minutes when he heard the door open behind him. He was still naked with the water reaching up to his waist. This, however, wouldn't obscure much as it was still largely clear. Not that Greg was inclined to hide anything. If the mistress of the house wanted an eyeful of what he was packing then he would all too gladly oblige. When Greg turned around, however, the cocky grin slid off his face.

Seated cross-legged at the edge of the pool smiling at him, was a girl about his age with long flowing blonde hair that cascaded all the way down to her waist. The last time Greg had seen this girl, she had been in the tight grip of one of the spider gang brutes shouting futile pleas for help. Greg wasn't sure that he could take on even one of the men that had surrounded her. And yet, here she was, with barely a scratch on her. She didn't even look ruffled by the close shave with death that she'd had with the spider gang thugs. In the girl's hand, was the pigeon-egg-sized gem that she had placed in his pocket when she crashed into him. Greg couldn't help but glance to where he'd discarded his pants as he realized that he'd left the gem in one of his pockets. The girl must have taken it from there. Without even looking, she was deftly twirling it with such skill that the thing seemed to be weaving in and out of her fingers on its own.

Looking at her, a whole bevy of emotions swept through Greg. Part of him was enraged to see her seated so calmly as if nothing had happened after she had used him. Greg could have easily died in that chase. And if that wasn't bad enough, seeing as the dungeon didn't dull any of his senses, if the thugs had used their blades, he would have been subjected to a gruesome way to die. Greg didn't know if the system would pull him out the moment it judged that he was certain to die, or if it would force him to first experience it before taking him out. The very possibility of it, however, was enough to set his blood boiling.

Another more irrational part of Greg, however, was even more pissed at her for taking the gem. While she had placed him in hot water and left him to flounder, Greg had been consoling himself with the fact that, at least, he got the gem for his trouble. And yet, here the girl was, already having taken the gem back. In a way, it felt like she was stealing the gem from him as well. He was just a mule that she had used to ferry the gem from one point to the other and then discarded once she had no more use for him.

At the same time, however, while he may not be the smartest person out there, Greg was no idiot. This woman, by all indications, should have been either dead or really close to it. And yet, she was completely unharmed. In a moment of high adrenaline where most wouldn't be able to think, she had kept her wits about herself and followed through on a plan that kept her from losing the gem. Greg himself couldn't retrace his steps to the place where the chase had started. Yet, in less than two hours, the woman had tracked him down to a noble's villa, and somehow, despite the heavy security out there the woman had gotten in without even setting off any alarms and gotten to him. Had she been an assassin, Greg would have been dead.

"Close the door on your way out," Greg said as he turned back around and continued to clean himself.

Greg's mind had quickly cycled through all the possible reactions he could show at this moment. He could react with curiosity about her. Greg, however, was already committed to Madam Zarra for this run. If he tried to ditch her, the contract would do a number on him. He could react with anger at being tricked. But Greg wasn't willing to pit himself against her without first gaining a good grasp of her abilities. Lastly, he could react with greed and try to find a way to keep the gem. Once again, however, the woman was an unknown factor that he wasn't willing to provoke. With all his options not viable to him, Greg only offered an indifferent response to her.

"Wait, that's it?" There was genuine surprise in the woman's voice as she asked this. Clearly, she had expected more of a reaction.

"I try not to associate with people who don't value my life," Greg replied. "So yes, that's it," he added, not turning back to her.

There was a long silence and for a second, Greg thought that the woman had indeed left. She, however, broke the silence once more. "Look, it wasn't personal. I was in a bit of a tough spot and I needed a way to keep the item safe while I dealt with my tail," She relayed. "Besides, how was I to know that you'd be... that you'd pull it out in front of them," She might have caught herself, but what she'd been about to say was all too clear to the both of them.

"You got what you came for, did you not?" Greg growled as he rounded on the girl. "Now, If you could kindly fuck right off, I'd really appreciate that," He said glaring straight at her.

The girl regarded him for a long while before she at last spoke. "Since I put your life in jeopardy, I'll give you some free advice that might just save your life," She relayed. "If you don't wish to be dead before evening, find a way to get away from this household," She said. "People know Sir Joram as just another merchant," She stated. "Trust me, however, when I say that the man is much more than that," She revealed. "Almost everything on the dark side of this city has his mark on it. Cross him, and the whole city might just come alive and eat you up" She cautioned.

"I signed a contract that protects me against him," Greg was not sure who he was trying to convince, himself or the girl.

Greg heard the door to the bathhouse click, drawing his gaze in that direction as someone pulled on the latch to open it. When he turned back to where the girl was seated, however, the girl was gone. Greg almost couldn't believe his own eyes, fighting the urge to rub at them to see if he'd been hallucinating. He'd barely turned away for more than a split second and yet, that was enough for her to disappear. All that was left behind was the sound of mocking laughter, her only response to the claim that a contract would protect him against Zarra's husband...

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