6 Job hunting part 2

The next two weeks consisted of nothing but Ceryll going into town to milk it for whatever it was worth. But despite her attempts to find something long term, she could only find odd jobs meaning she'd often come back with only a few pieces of bronze. Currently, she only had one piece of bronze due to her buying clothing fabric. She was stressed and Amere could see it in the way she walked, talked, and flopped into bed once she came back to their inn room. Every day he went job hunting with her, and every day the result was always the same. It was always depressing no matter how much hope the two of them left with so naturally, Amere found himself distancing from the situation. Oftentimes, this meant staying at the inn to hang out with the innkeeper. This led to the two of them forming somewhat of a bond. While the Innkeeper learned a little bit about Amere's past, Amere learned that the innkeeper had no plans of ever entering a serious relationship and happened to run a very popular brothel beneath the not-so-popular Inn.

One day, when in the elf's office, Amere got bored and decided to open a conversation with, "What are you?" The innkeeper looked up from the paperwork that littered the mahogany desk of his study. His golden gaze met the cat's blazing one in an attempt to determine his intent behind the question. His next words were wary.

"What makes you think I'm not an elf?"

"The only race that has black sclera like you are those from Lehron but they have cat-like patterns around the nose." Replied Amere matter of factly. He could tell from the tone of his acquaintance that he'd been right in his assumption.

"You've met one?"

"Is that really important to the conversation?" The innkeeper sighed heavily as his attempt at shifting the conversation was denied. He'd been backed into a corner and at the moment, he felt too tired to attempt the mental gymnastics necessary to get out of it.

"I'm a pheisus." The room instantly went silent. Granted they were the only ones in the room, yet somehow that made things worse somehow. Amere's tails twitched. Then he got up to round the creature before him. "Is it that shocking?"

"Considering you guys are supposed to be extinct, yes." The story of the pheisies was a common legend in the elven community. It was said that they were the true elves, known for their strength and intelligence. They were the creators of Bastia which they deemed the capital of all activity relating to elven government. They were practically gods. But according to the tales, the new elves of today ended up killing the tyrant pheisies and built the nation in which they lived today.

"We never went extinct, we were just banished."

"Right, and your tail?" The innkeeper groaned miserably.

"A spell. It's a tiring one but I've gotten pretty used to it by now." How many times had he explained this exact concept? Amere sensed the irritation, causing him to compliment the man rather than pry further into the story.

"Geeze, that's pretty amazing. I can't even sense it."

"That's the point. I'd love to go natural but if I did, I'd be killed on sight." His deadpan made the pondering cat chuckle.

"It's all about the women and money, huh?"

"You already know."

"What a noble man you are." The jibe went unacknowledged and he stood from his desk chair with a sigh.

"I must say, I've never quite met a woman as attractive as your owner. Her husband must have had a field day with her." Amere recoiled and swallowed the breakfast that threatened to come back up.

"Why is everything sexual with you?"

"Force of habit."

"You should learn to control that." The innkeeper got up to open the office door for Amere to go check dinner.

"True. Doesn't mean I will though."

"Of course not." Sighed Amere following him to the kitchen.

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While life was going quite well on their end, the same couldn't be said for poor Ceryll. As she scrubbed the bathroom floor of her current boss, she thought about how she'd find shelter for the next week. She was still running low on coins and she was trying to avoid paying in gold or jewels as that would draw unwanted attention.

"So you do these jobs often?" Ceryll looked at the door to see the fair-skinned elf who had hired her for the day.

"Not really but I used to clean a lot so these jobs are easiest. I just wished they paid more." The woman's eyes seemed to smile at the answer. Her pleasure was blatant.

"Well, I might have a job for you. It pays decent and all you have to do is look pretty" Ceryll shook her head and bowed respectfully.

"I appreciate the offer but prostitution just isn't for me."

"Oh dear me, of course not. I wouldn't even think of suggesting such a thing."

"Then what are you proposing?" Ceryll's expression slightly brightened as she was eager to know what job she'd be able to hold down so simply.

"I'm the madam of a brothel near here and we've been looking for a VIP bar hostess. All you'd have to do is look pretty and listen to rich drunk men cry about their problems." They shared a hearty laugh at the idea.

"Okay." Ceryll's voice was still tinged with amusement and she adjusted the veil over her mouth instinctively. "I'll take the job."