Go downstairs for breakfast

After a quick reset in your room, you gather yourself and head downstairs for some breakfast. You spot Lia at a table across from the stairs, sitting alone and watching people’s movements in the combination lobby and dining hall. She’s still wearing your red tunic as a long-sleeve crop top, as well as Blythe’s spare pleated skirt. As you walk towards her, her eyes flick in your direction. Color fills her cheeks and she looks away quickly, offering you a cursory greeting as you take a seat opposite her at the table. You continue to watch her as you wait for one of the waitresses to come take your order, which she notices every time her eyes flick back to you. Finally, she snaps and asks why you’re staring.

“You look good in red,” you say, not really thinking about it. Her reaction is so intense that you can almost see the steam pouring off of her burning face. She’s pretty fun to tease, you decide. Then, rescuing her from her thoughts, you ask, “Seen anything interesting this morning?” Her eyes immediately go wide, and she turns to look directly at you for a second. Her mouth falls agape, and her expression is altogether way more surprised and panicked than you expected her to be. “When I came down I saw you looking around the room,” you say. “I just thought there might be something interesting going on down here is all.”

Your words take a second for her to process, and then she quickly hides herself by laying her arms on the table and burying her face inside. She stays down long enough for her blush to clear, then comes back up and acts as if nothing happened. “Not really,” she says. “Nothing interesting, I mean. Bunny Bitch isn’t around.”

“What would you like to order?” The voice comes from a blue-haired bunnykin woman in a French maid outfit standing right next to you, and it scares the shit out of you for a second. The waitress happily waits until you calm down and give her your order. Lia apparently hasn’t eaten yet, so you order enough eggs and bacon for three people. The food takes up the rest of your Guild earnings from yesterday, as well as one drachma of your share from Lia’s thieving spree, but it’s worth it to be able to buy your whole party a decent meal after living on scraps and rations for so long.

Speaking of your whole party, Blythe comes down just as the food is delivered. With the plate sitting in front of her, you start to worry about the bacon. Are elves vegetarian in this world? I feel like that’s a fantasy trope, you think. Then again, tropes don’t have to define reality, but I’m still worried. What if I’ve offended her by ordering meat? This is Blythe, though, so she probably wouldn’t even get upset. She’ll just look at it, eat the eggs, and politely instruct me that I’m a dumbass who ordered a plate of bacon for an elf. After using up all that brain power to worry about your meal order, Blythe ends up eating the bacon without a second thought. She blushes when she catches you staring, but she probably thinks you’re staring for different reasons.

You’re about to start in on your own meal when the blue-haired bunny maid approaches you again and hands you a note. She informs your group that it’s from Jas, then walks away after promising to be back for the dishware once you’ve finished. You quickly unfold the note and give it a read:

Mr. Reynolds & co.,
After giving it a lot of thought, I can’t be mad at you for taking advantage of my little malfunction last night. I know personally what it takes to survive with little to no money, so I hope you’re willing to consider us even now for how I treated you the day you arrived. That said, I have a business to run, so I can’t afford to let you stay in the suites for free anymore. My offer of work to Miss Lia and Miss Nesimilia still stands if you haven’t found a way to make some cash in town yet — as for Mr. Reynolds, I’m sorry, but I don’t employ men as a general rule. It’s nothing against you, personally.
Check-out runs until midday. If you aren’t paid up or moved out by then, the policy for the cleaning staff is to dispose of any belongings left in the rooms.

Jas Evergreen

Without any comments one way or another to make about the message, you pass it over to Blythe, who explains its contents to Lia as you eat. After your meal, the three of you discuss the plan for the day.

“I need to go back to the Guild,” you say. “I’ll do the best-paying job they’ll offer me, and try to sniff around for any clues while I’m at it.” With any luck, you’ll be handed a quest to retrieve three holy artifacts from a forgotten tomb, or something equally obvious.

“I’ve got some shopping I wanna do,” says Lia. “We need more supplies. I could get us some more cash the same way I did yesterday, too. Not sure how I feel about doing it without that cloak, though; that thing was great at hiding my face if people noticed anything.”

“Next time I see Jas, I’ll try to get it back,” you say. “Besides its usefulness, that cloak holds a lot of memories.” You look at Blythe, who blushes when she notices your gaze. Satisfied with her reaction, you flick your eyes back to Lia. “In the meantime, don’t do anything risky. I’ve got enough to cover us all, room-wise, for tonight at least. Don’t worry about spending too much or not bringing in enough for us to get by.” Lia nods her approval.

“I shall accompany Ms. Lia then,” says Blythe. “I can assist her in her shopping while continuing to ask around regarding this Elemental, and the possibility of a ritual being required to summon it.” You look between the two women: Blythe is watching you attentively, as if awaiting your approval of her chosen task; Lia is twiddling her thumbs, which you take to mean that she has no objection to Blythe tagging along.

With the plans set, Blythe and Lia return upstairs to grab what they’ll need for the day. You stop by the reception desk and fork over a small fortune to keep the suites for another night, and then head up to your room to grab your things. On your way back out of your room, you catch Blythe in the hallway and ask her to stop. Her doublet is buttoned all the way up, which is an offense you feel compelled to correct.

“It’s time for your assignment,” you say. Blythe straightens up, pushing her chest out and fighting hard to keep the delight from showing on her face as your hands reach for her top button. “Why did you button this up? Do you still feel like you shouldn’t enjoy this?” you ask as you pop the first, and then the second button. Her face fills with color, but she doesn’t break eye contact. You can feel her heart beating hard in her chest. You pop the third button, causing the top of the doublet to fan out under the weight of her breasts. To your delight, you realize that she’s not wearing a bra underneath. Suddenly, the dam holding her poker face intact breaks: her grin breaks out in full, her eyes soften, and her ears seem to droop slightly. She renews her efforts to press her bust into your hands, causing her orbs to bounce noticeably against your fingers. “There you are,” you say. “See how good it feels to be true to yourself? You don’t need to hide anymore. Let yourself feel good from being seen. Let others see the real you. You are beautiful.” Your hands stop undoing buttons, one snaking around the elf’s waist while the other reaches under her skirt to verify that she is, indeed, not wearing panties either. The test results bring a smile to your face, and Blythe gets excited enough to wet the fingers you shove between her legs with a sticky, clear fluid. Thinking fast, you bring the fingers up to her mouth and have her lick them clean. Then, before she can ask for more, you tell her not to readjust her outfit under any circumstances and you take your leave.