Rowland's green eye peers at Jessica for a while, convinced that this ridiculous woman is definitely Yvonne's friend and likely who she says she is. He then explodes in laughter at his own inability to wink which does indeed put him at a slight disadvantage when going out with his girlfriend.

There is far more mirth than joy in him, his guffawing has a lot to do with evacuating the frustration of his injuries which he can finally let out because the woman facing him suffered a worse trial but clearly came out on top.

“You'll have to help me out then.” Rowland finally says.

“Sure thing.” Jessica nods with an understanding smile.

“About that sister of yours...” He inquires, trailing off to let her decide how much to tell him.

“She has somewhat of an E.Vil streak.” Jessica replies, shifting uncomfortably. “Don't tell her where I am if you run into her, she can get jealous about me and Leomi so I prefer watching from afar.”

“No promises.” Rowland replies with a teasing smile. “First time we met she put a sword on my throat so I might need to point her at the true object of her wrath.”

“Hey! I got you out of that room!” Jessica protests.

“You knocked out a friend of mine who took sentry duty on the roof in the process.” Rowland says while raising his left eyebrow, which looks quite odd because it stirs the scar running over his closed eyelid. “But, seriously, is she in Meria?” He asks while concealing his hope.

“She is.” Jessica confirms gravely without showing the shadow of a doubt. “But she can't show herself in the open.”

“I understand.” Rowland says with a sad nod.

Jessica's expression flickers and turns rather dark. She stands up and starts stretching in the middle of the main room, causing the patrons to jeer or throw ridiculing glances. She holds her palm out as Rowland stands up.

“Stay back and watch, this is just me getting started.” Jessica tells him while picking up her tankard.

“I have a bone to pick with them as well.” Rowland replies with a frown.

“I don't care.” The woman counters with a scary frown that gives him pause. “You're Yvonne's so I'm not letting you risk even a splinter. If you weren't, I would be kicking your ass for showing off in front of my Leomi, understood?”

Rowland nods, feeling uncomfortable at the possessiveness contained in her words and the ludicrous accusation. Jessica's bright grin returns like sunlight piercing dark storm-clouds. She heads towards the side-door giving into the alley while sipping her beer. He shudders as he follows behind.

“I understand that Dame Vil isn't the only one capable of unreasonable jealousy.” He murmurs as a thin smile appears on his lips.

As they enter the alley, located between the tavern and a large tannery, three well-dressed high born turn to them. They're all armed with swords and have house crests on their tunics but don't appear to be wearing armor.

Jessica irreverently salutes them with her mug of beer, spilling some on the dirt. They narrow their eyes and walk up to them with gaits that make it seem like they own the place.

“Were you the one to flout law and honor with a despicable ambush?” The leader, a tall woman with brown hair asks sharply.

“Me!?” Jessica exclaims in surprise. “Nuuoooh!” She refutes while fervently shaking her head.

Rowland places his palm over his face at the utterly unbelievable denial. But, somehow, he doesn't experience much tension even as the three reach for their sword's hilts while making ugly expressions in reaction to Jessica's mocking attitude.

“Did you think your message was funny?” The Lady asks while drawing her weapon. The two men accompanying her spread out to her sides but don't advance into the narrow alley. “That you'll get a laugh out of us and all will be forgiven?”

“Absolutely not!” Jessica replies easily. “I was told it was written with utmost seriousness and without any intent to cause laughter for you and your... weaklings.” She makes a toothy smile. “It wasn't my, Jessica Freepath's, doing. I swear so on my good name.”

“I am Lady Tuala, daughter of...” She starts as the tip of her weapon slides out of her sheath.

“I don't care who you are.” Jessica interrupts forcefully with a deeply disdainful tone.

“Then the two of you thieves can die unaware of who exactly it is you've disrespected.” Tuala utters flatly with a cold expression.

As the woman approaches while preparing to launch a stab, Jessica chuckles without a hint of nervousness and holds her wooden mug out like a tiny shield. Further angered by Jessica's attitude, Lady Tuala assembles an armor-piercing construct on her sword to end it in one unstoppable blow.

Rowland grows unsettled as he thought Jessica would draw the weapon hid between her shoulder-blades, which he can see protruding under her shirt, by now. He decides she wouldn't just throw her life away so he uses his energy to put together a few fireball constructs while keeping his eye on the two Lords.

Jessica twists sideways an instant before Tuala leaps at her, catching a sign that no one else had. The tankard trails oddly behind the exuberant woman, remaining right in front of the sword's sharp point as she angles it with a flick of her wrist.

Tuala's blade stabs straight through the bottom of the wooden recipient and steps into the curtain of beer splashing out. She reflexively stiffens, causing her to fail to react to Jessica's next move.

She used the edge of the tankard to pressure the flat of the blade that pierced it, locking the sword in place for a moment to neutralize it. An armor-piercing construct is only dangerous if the edge or point are left free to slash or stab.

Jessica brings her knee up and strikes Tuala's hands while further twisting the wooden mug, tearing the fingers from the hilt of the weapon. Tuala blinks at the droplets of beer hanging from her eyelashes, barely able to keep up with the fact she lost her sword.

As the Lady reflexively reaches to the dagger at her waist, Jessica straightens her tankard with the weapon planted in the middle. The blade slides down and widens the hole like it's cutting into butter because of the armor-piercing construct until the guard hits the mug's edge. Pok.

Tuala hears the humiliating sound and wakes up before making the mistake of attacking this expert again. The Lords a step behind her have already drawn their swords but haven't made a move either.

They dismissed the fact that the alley is so small it restrains their ability to move and strike before but they can't afford to do so anymore now that they've seen what this foe can do.

Rowland and his fireballs don't really enter their calculations because they can counter them but it would cost them energy they can't afford to spend after Tuala spent almost her entire reserve on a sword she lost.

“We're from house Hakarth.” Tuala utters with a stiff tone, very self-conscious of the beer soaking her tunic.

“As I said, I do not care.” Jessica responds lazily. “Go back and tell your pitiful faction who I am or I'll leave another message on your unconscious bodies.”

“Who are you?” Tuala asks with a tense voice at the threat.

“If your group can't figure that out, then your faction is far more pitiful than even I give you discredit for.” Jessica replies playfully. “I'll accept the sword as an apology for falsely accusing me of theft.” She adds with a corner smile.

The three Nobles exchange glances and silently decide to scamper off, thanking the Lake for their luck. While they are prideful to the point of arrogance, they are also aware that the Izla is enemy territory for them and that their opponent isn't a simple thief.

Jessica doesn't even wait for the three's footsteps to fade in the distance before dragging Rowland back into the tavern. She returns the ruined tankard and a few bronze coins to a scowling barman before leading Rowland back towards the brothel.

“I told you not to do anything.” Jessica whines at Rowland as they make their way. “I wanted to take all their swords, and maybe a couple lives.”

“I could hardly let you have all the fun.” He replies cheerfully, quite happy about the result of that skirmish and the humiliation Jessica wrought on them. “And I couldn't exactly allow a fight to the death over a misunderstanding you purposefully caused, I am a Hospitalier after all.”

“Oh well.” Jessica says with a sigh. “T'was your revenge after all.”

“You took it quite personally for it to have been my revenge.” Rowland notes. “I could have handled it if you let me.”

“You could barely kill two twerps while holding onto your life.” Jessica counters while taking a hard glance at his face, giving a feeling that she's looking down on him when she's looking up in reality.

“Hmph.” Rowland snorts, feeling a bit vexed by the evaluation but unable to deny it after seeing this woman fight with lightning fast speed. “How did you know when to step out?”

“Alarm construct, they weren't smart enough to be careful.” Jessica explains.

“I didn't hear a sound.” Rowland says, surprised.

“Of course not, I altered the construct.” The short woman replies pridefully. “I replaced the sound segments with a conditional trigger that activated a water construct that shook my beer.”

“You can do that?” He asks.

“And so much more.” Jessica replies with a smile. “I'll show you my brand-new workshop later.”

Rowland nods absently, impressed that the woman isn't only a skilled warrior but also a flow-smith. The two of them keep talking as they enter the brothel and go back to his room under the baffled gazes of the guards that never realized he left.

He realizes during the conversation that he's heard a lot about her from both Yvonne and Leomi Lance except they didn't name Jessica, or he doesn't recall if they did. They hear someone rushing down from upstairs just as they reach the room.

The one Jessica knocked out on the roof shows up with his sword in hand and glowers in anger as he spots them. She steps inside without even pausing to dress up in her armor.

It takes Rowland a few minutes to explain and apologize while restraining the man from barging in. While he thinks the short woman could stand to learn some manners, he already has a good enough hang of her personality to know she wouldn't listen and it would not end well for either of them.

After managing to chase the guard off with a promise to buy him a drink later, Rowland steps back in his room to find Jessica struggling to fasten her hard leather armor's straps.

He hesitates but decides not to help unless she asks, it annoyed him when people rushed to pick up the objects he knocked off before he got used to being one-eyed. She finishes within a few minutes and throws the long rectangular case on her shoulders, sticking the bare blade she just stole inside her belt.

“Let's go shopping now.” Jessica tells him.

“Do you mind if I get rid of my bandages first?” Rowland asks.

“Hurry up, I have work to do.” The woman replies curtly and leaves the room.

As he changes into his white and blue uniform, he hears her get into an argument with a guard on the other side of the door that ends when the brothel's manager, Rob, shows up to clear things up by informing the guard Councilwoman Cecil has given permission.

Rowland can't help but guffaw as he realizes Jessica could have cleared things up at any moment with them but didn't because she likely found it more fun to cause mayhem. His suspicion is confirmed when he steps out.

“Buddy, If I could sneak in that easily, then it means your squad failed at its one job. Be happy I'm not going to rat on you.” Jessica drops the words and stomps away with a straight back.

“Why are you mad?” Rowland asks as he catches up.

“Because I'm an idiot too.” The woman replies with a self-deprecating smile. “I'm starting to care about things I shouldn't because they're not relevant to my plans, which annoys me.”

“Things?” He presses.

“The Izla for one.” She grunts. “It would have been simple enough to leave it all to Cecil and Leomi but I'm taking from my precious time to crush these eyesores when they barely qualify as a threat and will be washed away by the tide anyway.”

“Ah, Thrin and his faction.” Rowland says, wondering what would constitute a threat for this woman.

“Anyway, I'm doing it so I might as well have fun.” Jessica suddenly perks up with a grin.

--- --- ---

Jessica and Rowland walk into the shop of the best smith in Meria, located in an opulent stone building near the Keep. The store's parquet is polished and there are only a dozen display stands each containing a single weapon under a locked glass window.

A lanky servant in a black tunic welcomes them with a bow and offers to let them browse with a cup of tea but Jessica interrupts by raising her hand to show an identification parchment that holds three seals, the Council's, the Templar's, and the Hospitaliers'.

It doesn't say much other than that Jessica Freepath is who she says she is with a short description, which oddly doesn't specify the subject's height, and a runic construct that only she can activate to prove her identity. The servant doesn't dare ask her to do so because it can only be used a few times before that section of the parchment disintegrates.

“I know you don't buy but I have four swords I wish to exchange for weapons that suit me better.” She explains, relying on the status Cecil provided her to have her way.

“An exception can be made depending on what you wish to purchase, Dame Freepath.” The servant complies.

“First, this sword has a crest. It belonged to a Lady Tuala but she lost it in a... let's call it a duel.” Jessica says, pulling the bare weapon from her belt. “She'll be thrilled to buy it back from you instead of having to deal with me, especially if you tell her what my credentials are.”

Rowland suppresses a smirk at the 'sucker-punch' Jessica is going to deal to that Lady by providing some of the information she provoked Tuala to look for before even giving her a chance to find it.

The seals by themselves don't mean much, certainly not that she has the support of these organizations, but the fact that all three powers put their seals on the same identification parchment is significant in itself.

“I'm not sure it is proper for our shop to get involved, Dame Freepath.” The servant says hesitantly. “My apologies for being of so little use, I will seek the owner out for you to meet.”

The man escapes the room without even touching the weapon. Jessica sighs and decides to wait. A muscular man with large shoulders in a tight black tunic shows up minutes later with a serious expression.

“I got the sword legitimately, and I'm not here to dawdle around.” Jessica utters flatly before the owner can say anything. “Either you're interested or you're not.”

“May I ask where you got the other three weapons you wish to trade before deciding?” The man questions carefully.

“In Buton's Dungeon, taken from three bandits.” Jessica replies with a smirk. “Grand Commander Lance can verify that fact, and you're welcome to bring all these as a bundle to the Lady Tuala with their history. I'm sure she'll be interested and pay you well for the delivery.”

The owner thinks it through for a while before deciding to take the deal, assessing that his shop is being used as an intermediary for a conflict between at least two powerful factions, none of which he can't afford to provoke.

Rowland wonders, without too much hope, whether the woman is bragging about wanting to crush Thrin's group or is being serious. He now knows that this Jessica took part in Elizabeth Vil's dismantling of the Izla's old powers but it is difficult for him to tell how much she can accomplish now that she's at odds with the Red Dwarf.

Jessica ends up walking out of the shop with two sturdy flourish-less weapons, a longsword and a short single-edged broadsword. Their utilitarian designs make it clear that those are tools of battle, a glance to their blades is enough to tell they were made from the best steel and sharpened enough to cut through mail.

“What now?” Rowland asks, almost wishing he'll get to see Jessica put these mean-looking things to work.

“Hm. I need a dress, a chunk of diamond, and a hat of some kind...” She trails off and lets out an enthusiastic exclamation. “Luxury!”

“How long have you been looking for that word?” He asks, wincing from her loud outburst that startled half the bourgeois in the street.

“I'm not sure.” Jessica replies. “You're also buying a gift for Yvonne by the way.”

“I don't think I can afford it if you're calling it luxury.” Rowland mutters.

“That's fine, I'll work you to death to pay me back before and after the training sessions.” She dismisses.

“When did I agree to that?” He asks, paling as he suddenly realizes that he might not actually be able to escape this madwoman considering her ludicrous connections.

“You didn't, but you will if you want to survive Leomi when you tell her you wish to marry her sword-sworn.” Jessica replies calmly.

“I...” Rowland almost gets angry from the fact both this woman and his girlfriend's liege apparently intend to interfere with their relationship but grits his teeth because he is indeed too weak and Jessica is offering her help, even if she's being rude about it. “I'll find someone else to train me if you don't cut it.” He utters harshly.

“That's fine.” She replies. “Don't forget that the time you have until you return to the Lake is limited, you shouldn't waste it with unnecessary delays and cherish what happiness you can find in the present.” Jessica adds gently with an undertone of sorrow.

Rowland falls silent at her words. He's a bastard. From his youth as a trainee soldier to now, the fact that he's the bastard son of a Count made him cling to the traditional way of things.

His encounter with Elizabeth Vil shook his professional and social views but not so much he would risk making the same mistakes as his father. But, now that he almost died over a stupid game of spies, he doesn't see his stubborn attitude in the same way anymore.

Jessica's words shake him especially because she's so far shown mastery at uncovering the enemies that almost killed him from the shadows and then dealing with them without much effort.

“I'll keep it in mind.” Rowland replies seriously before focusing on his task as a guide. “There is a shop meant exclusively for Nobles a few streets ahead, I recall they sold personalized umbrellas and hats.”

“Oooh!” Jessica giddily cries out. “Quick, let's go bully them!”

Rowland grins, feeling satisfied that he read her correctly and looking forward to the mess she'll cause because, obviously, she won't be showing them her identification parchment this time.