Cara was bored, bored enough to do what she had been asked to do, which meant she was just a push away from setting fire to the whole damn cart just to see it burn to the ground.

The relief she had felt after they had exited the city had lasted for the better part of a week, now it was the third week of travel and she was as angry at the bench she was sitting on as she was at her master who made her wear dresses.

Cara briefly looked out the window, the scenery had changed, the trees that were there before had been left behind and new trees had taken their place, she hated the forest. Sinking back into the old padding of the cart she resumed her now favorite activity, trying to stare her master to death while practicing the way of speaking that would be expected of her.

"Oh deary me, it seems i have dropped this golden spoon! Would some gentleman honour me by picking it up?" Her master was trying to conceal a smile.

"You do realise by always talking like this you might end up really talking like this once you get into trouble right?" Cara covered her mouth with a hand and acted shocked.

"Oh my? What will become of me when the bluebloods discover my secret?" He had a point.

"Barthy, why are we moving to the enemy city as tailors? I get the whole gather information thingy you said earlier but wouldn't it be smarter to pose as someone with a higher station? Like a duke or something?" Bartholomew's eyes narrowed at the new nickname.

"In theory you would be right but we don't have the resources for a ruse like that, additionally, all bluebloods know each other, the powerful families never change so making one of them up would be a huge gamble. However lately, tailors and merchants have been appointed higher stations due to the war. The bluebloods fighting for us have left a power vacancy the remaining ones in Goldhill want to fill with people they appointed themselves." He smiled wickedly as he continued.

"One such appointed man has recently had a bad accident and is on the verge of death, so they are looking for someone to control, someone like a tailor from a small village who just got left by his wife and has a spoiled daughter burning through money and pretending to be of higher station."

The last part left a bitter aftertaste for Cara.

"So I have to be the annoying little brat you changed cities for?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Don't tell me you can't act like an annoying little prick, because if you don't our cover might get blown and we could end up executed." His face was a serious mask, and the smile had disappeared. Just before Cara actually considered believing him his composure and started laughing like a maniac.

Right, the man was crazy and about just as bored as her.

"Okay I'm ready for another of your spy lessons and don't even think about having me walk after the cart again!" she had been sore for days and as it turned out he was just trying to prove a point.

Bartholomew looked at her his brows knitted as he visibly tried to think of something.

"Well, how about you get in character? We are going to need at least another month before we arrive and that way you get to get used to the whole spoiled brat thing." Cara expected an ulterior motive, but then again she had absolutely nothing else to do.

"Okay, how is this going to work then? You want me to turn from a nice and smart girl into a spoiled rich kid?" The face Bartholomew made was not encouraging, "You have an idea I take it?" the smile widened on his face.

"Well let's say you really are the complete opposite of what you need to be. We just need you to let go of the person you are and get you to become this spoiled rich kid." He paused, first Cara thought it was for effect, then she realised he had absolutely no idea on how to achieve that.

"Have you ever been undercover before?" part of her was not keen about learning her master's track record.

The silence that followed was about as much an answer as Cara needed.

"What happened to the other spies in the city?" she asked carefully.

"Well..." Bartholomew began his eyes doing their best not to com close to his new student.

"We had a mole a couple of months back, and we ended up losing most of our sources in Goldhill... which is the reason the leadership decided they needed to send people over there that had never been affiliated with the rebellion. The best way to do that was sending a spy from the other end of Guidance there with a new recruit that had not been in the city long enough for anyone to remember her."

He stopped his futile attempts of not looking at her and met her eyes.

"You are telling me I got chosen for this task because I just arrived and you needed someone to accompany you?" she had thought Bartholomew had seen a spark of talent in her or something like that,

"Well, it's not quite as bad as you make it out to be. I saw you kill a soldier and you look the part of a spoiled brat so...." Cara interrupted him

"You saw that?" she had hoped no one had seen her. She blushed, the fight had not been what she expected.

Bartholomew stopped his charade and looked serious now, the man could have been acting now or the time before to lighten the mood, it was hard to tell.

"Yes I did and there is nothing you need to be ashamed off, if anything you can be proud you survived. It is not-"

"Shut up! Never talk of this again and never try to console me again or i will cut your throat." Her voice was icy, the green in her eyes seemed to dim like all colour was drained from them. Despite the fact Bartholomew knew why, he couldn't help it but feel a chill running down his spine.

In his mind the picture of Cara formed as she rammed her scissors into the soldier's eye, the way she had pulled away from the rebels as if she was being threatened just so she could get close enough for the blow.

The young man had raised his shield as if to protect her and she had used the lack of attention to pull the scissors from her sleeve and end the man's life. All in all Bartholomew had been impressed, she had not tried for a fight since she knew there was nothing her scissors could do against chain or plates of iron.

The stab however did not kill the soldier immediately, the scissors were not thin enough to pass through the skull, he had dropped his shield and an arrow had grazed Cara and tore into the man's throat. The two of them had toppled over and the girl got one arm trapped under the soldier, unable to get away she had witnessed him choking on his own blood while crying.

At least he wouldn't have to deal with her killing her first person, that mostly fucked the young ones up and made them either arrogant, aggressive or broke them completely.

She had managed to stay relatively normal, locking the whole thing away and ignoring it ever happened at day while crying herself to sleep. Cara was material he could work with, maybe even make use of her after the first assignment.