Maid with Necromancy

Chapter Thirty One

Harmony purchased two meat pies outside the university campus with the sun high. The beef, carrot, and gravy stuffed pastries steamed in her hand. Witnessing Len's exam had taken the morning away, but with the information she gleaned, it wasn't a total loss.

Street urchins selling news sheets were still at it. Usually, it was a morning or night gig, capturing the day's events for people before they go to sleep or summarizing it in the morning for those who've woken up. The scandal and excitement created an all-day news cycle.

"False duke has no Authority, nepotism at its worst!"

"Prince Adric spotted in sewers with a lizard-person lover!"

"Wizard spills all, sensational Kelly White's daughter shines."

Harmony winced at hearing her mother's name. It's not like they've spoken since she was kicked out. She told herself that her mom would use this as publicity to keep up her big fish in a small pond comfort zone and only talk about herself.

Today wasn't a day for dwelling. You only get so many day's off from work, and tomorrow is Ambrosia's thank-you-for-helping-with-the-pet-problem day, even if she did let him run loose. This meant the need for a nice outfit. She couldn't borrow her taller friends' ones without most of them failing to fit properly. It didn't help that the maid knew she was burning through clothing whenever she needed to don her new armor or that her best dress had been changed and incorporated into that armor.

The area around the university did have some of the best shopping that wasn't dungeon diving focused. It had shops, baths, taverns, and various entertainment options. Three indoor theatres and a pair of outdoor amphitheaters, haunts from a life she left behind. Kelly White's name was being yelled, rather than Harmony wasn't a coincidence, as she'd' seen her mom pay the local newsboys extra to make sure her name was called when she made the news.

The maid spent the afternoon walking down still familiar streets, ignoring posters advertising a play with her mother's face on it and looking around the shops.

Lace and Ladies advertised capital and evolved fashions in the window next to displays holding colorful dresses covered in ribbon and lace. Harmony entered.

A skill pressed against her, taking measurements and weighing her. Height, proportions, inseam, the kind of skill common to tailors and seamstresses. A skill that some maids at the manor had taken and used before.

"How may I be of service to you today?" Asked a kind woman's voice.

"I'm looking for a dress. No. Two dresses. My friend has plans, and knowing her, there will be dancing, singing, and possibly drinking involved."

The seamstress stepped out from behind a mannequin. She nearly matched Harmony's short stature.

"Finally, a client who I won't need a step stool for. What you're looking for will be active social wear. It's more evolved kingdom fashion than capitol based, which is what you get when you push all the citizens to go through at least one evolution the first two years of getting their profession and class. Have to have sturdy clothes to survive those rough and tumble skill clashes."

Sturdy is what she needed. "I have a skill that equips me with armor, but it's murder on clothes. Do you think maybe something that can survive that?"

"Come on back to the changing area."

The seamstress used her fingers to whistle. One of the mannequins in the back shifted into a bipedal man. Some kind of golem or construct. "Keep an eye on the shop." The woman instructed it.

"I'm Misha." She told Harmony as they stepped into the changing area, a simple, curtained-off area with a large mirror on the far wall.

"I don't want to damage my current outfit."

"You strip out those boy clothes, and I'll find a scrap gown to see what I'm working with. You're not the first one who can grow armor, project, or whatever. Back in Calestia, you'd be surprised at how common such quick defense skills are for evolved classes."

"You're from an evolved kingdom?"

"Don't hold it against me. Sometimes you want to go where the competition is light, and your skills are needed. I'm probably the only Master seamstress in Hazeldown."

Harmony began to strip off her more neutral boyish clothes as the seamstress left the room.

The seamstress returned with almost a potato sack, a one-piece outfit of dozens of stitched pieces of fabric. "To test the skill wear against specific material." Misha pointed out upon seeing Harmony's questioning look.

Sliding it on, she felt like a clown in the oversized, baggy one-piece outfit. Donning her armor, Night, took stripped that feeling off. The new bulk in her soul sat uncomfortably there like a lump in her stomach. Stripping naked before donning the armor was preferable. [Small Armor] was joyful at being equipped, and even [High Kick] appreciated the armored boots. [Beautician] knew she looked good. Even her other skills and stats felt a sympathetic connection to the sparkling black armor through its creation and form. It resonated pleasantly to feel complete in form and function.

"Blocked paths! You're Kelly White's daughter. The Sketch in the sheet didn't do you justice."

That did not feel pleasant. There were only so many times you could be introduced as Kelly White's daughter growing up and overhear someone asking, "what was her name" in the distance before you wanted to be as invisible as you felt. That old life was supposed to be buried when she was thrown out with scraps and bones.

"My name is Harmony."

[Cold Touch] flared, making the words not only come out with a chilly tone but also drop the room's temperature several degrees. The lack of control was a stark reminder that she'd yet to adjust to all the new levels and skills she'd acquired. Lord Tyler routinely took week-long retreats and training sessions after getting even one new skill, but some people had to work for a living.

"Sorry, my lady. I was simply shocked by your presence." Misha apologized with a curtsy

Harmony stood there dumbfounded by the address and curtsy. Because of her class, she'd suffered insults, mocking, and rejection. Pretending about a noble title was new. Was there a subtle insult behind such a thing? She'd read something about the evolved kingdoms taking lords, ladies, and the like much more seriously than their tiny strip of a kingdom does.

"Is it true your father was a lord, and you've unlocked your royal bloodline?"

Dead before she left the womb. Her father was the last thing Harmony wanted to talk about. A Laborer, and a fire mage. Harmony activated [Poise and Bearing], letting the skill take over and present a calm facade.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken. I'm not a lady. I'm merely looking for a new dress."

"You'll unlock authority soon, don't worry. Then you'll be free to hang with your special friends. Is it the princess? That false duke is so disrespectful."

The leaking chill of [Cold Touch] at these topics pulled in her. Hanging with the princess, and who brought up someone's dead family? So Harmony let it ride.

"No. She's just a friend. Can we move this along?" The cold tone did make her think of stuck-up aristocrats. The temperature dropped enough for the air to condense outside her mouth as she huffed.

"Of course. It should be long enough to see how your skill has displaced the outfit or left damaged sections we can account for. Swap back into the test outfit."

The outfit came back in shreds. The threads used to bind all the bits of fabric together had been the first to go. The necromancer wished she hadn't made the room so cold. Where Night had protected her against the cold, the strips of fabric over bare skin brought goosebumps and shivers.

"Oh my. This is unusual."

The seamstress picked up squares of fabric. Rubbing the materials between her fingers before inspecting the ones that managed to stay tentatively worn by Harmony.

"What are you thinking?" The maid asked, now more concerned with her current problem than past history.

"High-grade materials I don't have here could work. I've heard of some second-evolved crafters who can make clothes that repair themselves. What has your trainer said about using the skill to minimize or localize the damage?"

Trainers, why hadn't she thought of such a thing. Other than the lack of money and time and the fact that she had yet to hear of this type of skill or item pairing that did this in Hazeldown. Maybe in the evolved kingdoms, it would be different.

"It's a new ability. You've seen the sheets. I've been too busy to find a trainer."

"Well, that might help. I'm going to recommend you not use the armor unless you need to or arrange to have cheaper clothes."

It's not like Harmony felt she had much choice when she needed it. She envisioned dumping most of the dungeon run earnings into dresses then, ten minutes after wearing it, needing to stop some idiot and trashing her outfit.

"Could you add some decorative metal plates to the dresses? Is that a thing?" Harmony asked.

"In activewear, it is, my lady."

Harmony didn't correct her.

Two dresses took most of Harmony's coin. Outside of Misha's tendency to slip into honorific modes of address, she knew her job, and they worked well together. [Beautician], [Style and Grace], [Small Armor], and even [High Kick] contributed impressions while Harmony worked with the master Seamstress's opinion to build two new dresses for her. It made her feel secure in handling whatever surprise Ambrosia was planning the next day.

With her main chore done, hauling two large dress boxes, Harmony looked at the other shops again. New Leaf Tomes and Tea, a bookstore. She'd avoided entering earlier due to the risk of spending her money before she got to the dresses. The shop was unusual since books tended to be more for private collections. Most everyone read news sheets as those with artist, scribe, or author professions found it easier to grind out their skills doing that work than to try to fully copy or write books. Now she felt free to enter.

Two women got up at the chime of the bell on the door, one with short brown hair with a bandage wrapped around her shoulder and a blond with her hair up in a messy bun.

"Not you, darling. You need to heal up." The blond told her partner, pushing them down into their cushy seat with a whump. With a smile, she moved energetically towards Harmony. "Sorry about that. Kianthe fancies herself a bit of a bodyguard and hurt herself defending me from dragon spiders. Welcome to New Leaf Tomes and Tea. I'm Reyna."

The maid noticed how she accentuated the leaf from the store name like it was the funniest thing in the world. As fearsome as their name sounded, dragon spiders were harmless and merely used their scaly covering to mimic dragons to scare predators away, nothing like the spiders she'd battled in the manor attic.

"I was wondering if you had any books on primal bonds?"

"Let me look. I have some lovely tea if you want as you wait."

"No, thank you," Harmony responded.

Reyna bustled to the back shelves, stopping in front of a stirring Kianthe. "Stay seated." She lectured with a wag of her finger.

Books lined the walls, while comfy chairs and small tables for tea took up much of the interior. She scanned the titles seeing Tender Love, Low Morals on High Seas, and In the Knight were some of the less blatant ones.

"Cozy spot you have here." Harmony addressed the brunette, who looked uncomfortably well-pampered in her chair.

"It's ours, and we love it. Reyna fancies herself a magician at making tea. Sometimes a little trouble is all it takes to push off to run away to a city in the middle of nowhere and live your dreams."

The maid could understand that, having dreamed about having a proper pet and maybe a bit naively imagining it fighting in the colosseum as a career where she could work from the sidelines. "Good for you."

Reyna dashed back in. "Will Primal Hunter work? It's about a laborer transported into a fantastical world."

Harmony shook her head. "You wouldn't happen to have any books on skills, leveling, and bonds?"

Reyna deflated. "We have Thibodeaux on Skills, but that's it. We're focused on books to help people escape from the daily grind of leveling, the sore feat of walking paths, the traumas of the dungeon."

Comfort books, the kind Fel loved. Harmony asked how much the book was and winced when the price listed was as much as her dress and past what she'd brought for the shopping trip.

"Would you happen to have any damaged books needing repair that you'll be willing to sell cheaply?"

"I might have some options in the back that are taking up space. I can't help but care for things that need a little bit of extra love to get better."

Harmony avoided rolling her eyes at Reyna's wistful look toward the bandaged Kianthe. But that was how she spent the rest of her money on three beaten-up books. Monster Girls, whose pages were stuck together, a crumbling three-hundred-year-old diary by a priest, and an old ledger of skills filled with annotations and ripped pages.

Possibly a waste, but she figured it was something she could practice on to see how well she could repair books after unlocking her stats. And if these turned into a pile of black goo, no one would get mad.