If you go hunting a tiger...

- 6 -

Ajax, thanks for the preliminary reading.

"It's none of your business, filthborn!" Eleanor stretched into a string and turned up her nose. "It is your duty to remove your plebeian blood from an honorable house."

"Talk to Dave about it," I said calmly. "Let him pay me compensation for the kidnapping and return me home."

Eleanor began to squeal something, but I interrupted her in the bud:

"Give me your phone, I'll call the police and make a statement about the kidnapping on social networks so that the police can't refuse to work."

Eleanor choked on her own screech. I mockingly asked:

"You don't have a smartphone? Are you a savage or are you in prison? Do you have a credit card and a driver's license? Or are you a slave here?"

"A plebeian is incapable of judging the life of a higher caste. But if you don't write a renunciation of any claim to be related to the Terrences, you will regret it."

Eleanor is gone. And servants brought me lunch. It was superbly delicious. I said "thank you" and gladly ate it all. And when I satisfied my hunger, I decided that it was time to take advantage of the big money.

"Where is the beauty salon? I want a massage, a body wrap with the best healing mud and a super-duper face mask."

"The lady doesn't do that sort of thing during the day," James said sternly. "It's employment only for early in the morning, everything must end no later than two hours before the first breakfast, while no one can see her."

"It's for a simple lady," I replied. "But a business lady cleans herself up when it suits her. Therefore, follow the order or go to Dave for a transfer to another place."

"Gerrin," Helmut interrupted, "you've got an appointment with a stylist now. Gotta hurry, she's on her way."

"Is it at such a time?!" James exclaimed indignantly.

"What other stylist?" I was surprised.

"You need a dress for the City Hall ball," Helmut told me. "This is your debut in the high life, and the dress is extremely important. This will affect not only you personally but also TGS shares.

While I was trying to understand what the connection was between duds, even an evening one, and stocks, Helmut admonished James:

"Our lady has no time. Too little time to prepare. And changing the image is not an easy task, she has to learn to be natural with a new look."

"Don't you dare think about any image changes!" I snapped. "I like my look. I need to buy an evening dress, but I will not remake myself."

"And if you like madame Lucy Alouette's ideas?" Raoul asked.

"All stylists are idiots. Those stars who listen to them always look like a scarecrow in a torture device. I myself know what I need! We're going to the store."

The convoyers again stared at me with astonishment and wariness. I realized that arguing or demanding to be taken anywhere was dangerous: it would arouse suspicion. But what to do with the phone in my bra? And I have no more gold for a bribe. But this Lucy Alouette will not take anything — if she was called to Terre Court, she earns a car a week, and it is more profitable for her to look after Dave's interests.

"Do you think you're more versed than Lucy Alouette?" Raoul asked indignantly.

"This is the first time I hear about her." I began to piss off all this fuss around a simple issue that can be solved in fifteen minutes and in three clicks. Moreover, I lost hope of escaping through the store ... I grunted: "If it turns out that she is the same shit as all the stylists, then all you shut up forever and silently do what I say. Now take me to this Alouette."