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Job applications are difficult

Trace looked at his wife's pleading face. It was adorable, and difficult to resist, but he didn't want her in any sort of danger, or to put her anywhere near the line of fire when it came to the traitor. The blackmailer wasn't the only dangerous person they were dealing with; the culprit of the plot likely wouldn't hesitate to hurt someone in his or her way.

"It would be helpful to have a list," He scratched the back of his head. His dream wandering depended on people's perception of themselves, which wasn't always entirely accurate. Seeing the potential players in their waking hours would help him more quickly identify them and move on from innocent people.

"Well, then, let's go!" Anaisa chirped and moved past him towards the street. As midday approached, the roads were less crowded. People generally made their way home for meals and even took a rest in the afternoon on occasion.

That way they were more awake for the night market hours that many merchants participated in.

Trace followed his wife back towards their inn, and the palace, with a thoughtful expression. He noticed she was eager to be useful, and now that her sister didn't appear to need her, she was focused on a new method of being needed.

He cleared his throat, and she slowed her steps to match his.

"How do you plan on getting us jobs?" He asked curiously. "It won't be easy."

"No, it won't," She admitted. "Katia and I worked so hard to get jobs in any sort of inn and failed repeatedly, but we looked poor and desperate. The two of us look respectable, so I think we stand a better chance."

Trace looked down at his clothing. It was simple. A farmer's clothing. Not stylish like the foppish lords of the city nor even the merchants, who tried their best to imitate the fashions in the least expensive way possible.

"I'm not sure–" He began, but Anaisa interrupted.

"We don't need to look rich. Rich people wouldn't need work, would they? You look like a farmer, maybe you could offer to help them pick out the best produce. Or help with the animals; the royals have many animals." His wife was on a roll now, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon. "Maybe Conlan or his 'friend' could manage to get us hired." She paused, frowning.

"I don't really like the idea of using his resources, do you?" Trace asked.

"We already are, in a sense, because we're staying at an inn he paid for…" Anaisa's face turned darker, but she sighed and nodded. "You are wise, I think, to include him as little as possible, but if it comes down to it, if we're caught, it would be nice to have him implicated as the person who got us hired."

Trace hesitated. "Let's try on our own first. If we can't manage to get hired, I'll consider asking him."

Anaisa nodded and moved on quickly. She paused at the grand entrance to the palace gates. Multiple guards stood with wide, feathery plumes on their helmets as they strode back and forth in ornate uniforms.

"There must be a back entrance for servants," She murmured. "In the times Katia and I came to watch some parade or other, we never saw anyone humble in the front being allowed entrance."

She whizzed around the side, and Trace hurried to follow after her. Once his wife was on a mission, it seemed, very little could stand in her way.

"Woah, slow down," He said when he caught up. "People who run seem to attract attention."

"You're right," She admitted, easing her pace. "Sorry."

"This is a quest of secrecy," He warned quietly. "If you're going to be involved at all, you need to keep your head down and your voice quiet. No one should notice you're around if at all possible."

Anaisa pursed her lips and pulled a kerchief from her pocket, throwing it over her hair and tying it under her chin.

"Better?" She asked sarcastically.

He blinked. With her auburn hair mostly hidden under the fabric, she did indeed blend into the crowds a lot better.

"Personally, I prefer the other way, but this is more discreet," He nodded. She looked at him oddly, but shook her head and continued at a slower pace around the palace walls.

"This is much bigger than I thought," He said as they continued walking. "Just how many people live in there?"

He hadn't spent a second longer than necessary in the city, and his brief time in the palace's large open courtyard had been spent daydreaming instead of listening to the speeches of nobles. They hadn't been interesting, anyway, he was sure.

"The king, of course, and most of the royals. A few live outside the palace in their grand houses, like nobles. Then there are the servants, of which there are hundreds."

"Hundreds of servants??" Trace's mind was boggled by the number. How long would it take him to move through the dreams of so many? He was sure that he didn't even have the reach to encompass the entire palace from the Violet Lion, now that he saw how expansive it was.

"How do you think they keep such a large place clean?" Anaisa smirked. "And cook fine feasts for visiting dignitaries, and all manner of other tasks? Some of the servants live outside, of course, but most have quarters so that if they are needed in the middle of the night, they can be summoned. It also helps the guards not have to see so many people come and go every day."

"I suppose that makes sense," Trace allowed, but he thought about all the taxes he paid on his crops and animals and frowned at the wasteful expense of such a grand residence and all its occupants.

"We just need to figure out what kind of servants they need right now, and make sure they believe we are amazing at those tasks," Anaisa squinted. "Do you know anything from your… erm… work last night?"

Trace pondered her words. The chambermaids had seemed overworked, if their nightly musings were any indication, but perhaps that was normal?

"One of the stable hands had an accident, perhaps," He murmured, flipping through the images of dreams. The stable boy had given him some indication to believe a horse had kicked one of the masters. The kick was probably exaggerated in the boy's imagination, but if Trace was lucky, the man was still out of commission. In the dream, the horse went on to kick every other man above the boy until only he was left to marry a princess, amusing Trace a great deal.

"Anything else?" Anaisa's eyes lit with curiosity.

"I'm not sure." He frowned, not wanting her close to anyone that might be plotting. "A maid, perhaps, but then again, maybe not."

"That's a common job, and there is probably a long list of women who would want it," Anaisa sighed. "But as for a stable hand, you know horses and would be good at that."

"Indeed," He smiled, not sure what the qualifications were for a royal hand, but willing to give it a try.

They finally reached some sort of ground level gatehouse in the tall palace wall, and paused. The guard here looked far less vigilant than the ones at the front.

"Good Morning," Anaisa said cheerfully, her voice slightly higher than usual. "My husband and I are looking for work and hoped the palace might make use of our skills. Can you direct us where to ask?"

The guard looked her up and down, and Trace. He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment as he seemed to evaluate whether they were a security threat, but in the end, he shrugged and pointed around the tall, curving wall even further.

"Butler doesn't hire married women," He said. "But you can ask about your man. Keep walking the same direction and you'll come to the servants' entrance. I can't say whether they need anyone right now or not."

"Thank you, kindly, sir!" Anaisa ducked her head and pulled her scarf closer around her face before she followed the direction quickly. Trace was confused by her enthusiasm.

Hadn't the guard just said there would be no work for her? Trace thought she would be disappointed, not rushing towards the goal. Still, he would be very content to get a job for himself and leave Anaisa to stay in their room at the inn during the days… if he could be assured that she would stay there.

She would stay put if he told her to, wouldn't she? He opened his mouth to ask.

"He was very helpful." She commented. "And now we have time to adjust the plan."

"Adjust it?" Trace tilted his head. Something was in her tone he didn't like at all. "How?"

"The butler doesn't hire married women, so I'll have to be your sister for now," She said easily.

Stories where a wife pretends to be a sister always end well. You can just ask Abraham...

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