A few minutes into Cariun’s explanation, Olive got up and helped herself to the paper at the desk.  He had a large family, unfortunately.  It wasn’t just his siblings that she needed to know about.  There were uncles and aunts and cousins to worry about as well.  Cariun paused and frowned at her note taking, so she held the page up to him to show she was writing it in English.  The magic rings could translate writing as well as speech, but this would hide it from all but the most powerful of prying eyes.

She put asterisks next to the people she needed to avoid and drew hearts next to the people that sounded like they could be helpful.  There were very few hearts and way too many asterisks.  She stared at the page in dismay when he was done.

The queen would be either her best ally or her worst enemy.  Olive suspected it would turn out to be the latter.  She was a cruel, self-indulgent woman that the king married for political reasons.  There was only one child from this marriage, the youngest princess that was woefully neglected and largely ignored by the rest of the court.  The rest of the royal children were from various other women, depending on the king’s whims.  Parentage wasn’t nearly so important in this world.  One of the children, a prince close to Cariun’s age, was actually adopted.

The queen was supposed to be mother to them all.  In reality, she doted on the current heir to the throne and sabotaged all the other children.  Olive only had one way to make an ally of her and that was to allow herself to be the crown prince’s pawn.

It could make things simple, Olive thought.  Ally with the strongest faction and then live in safety until she could finally go home and leave all this behind her.

Cariun’s wealthiest sibling was also the nicest.  His eldest sister, who decided to eschew marriage and pursue amassing a fortune for herself through a variety of business investments.  It was she who had given Cariun clothing for Olive.  If Olive ever got desperate, Cariun said, she could certainly ask for help from the eldest princess.  There would be conditions attached, of course.  It would likely be reasonable.  The princess had to uphold her reputation of dealing fairly with people, after all.

There were a smattering of other names to remember.  More siblings of varying importance.  An uncle she should steer clear of.  And of course, Cariun’s mother, who could be a tremendous help at the risk of making an enemy of the king.

“Your family is a disaster,” she said when he was finished.

“Spoken like a commoner,” he yawned.  “Oh look, the hour is up.  Go away and let me nap.”

He was already fumbling around on the floor, testing the nearby bottles to see if any of them still had something left inside.

“You mean ‘drink’?” she asked icily.

“It’s a good use of my time.”

“And educating me is not?”

He didn’t reply, just held up a bottle that still had some remnants left and held it up to the light, staring at the contents critically.

“Why are you so determined to not help me?” she demanded.

“Because I don’t think you’re worth the effort,” he replied, pulling out the stopper.

“You still think I’ll side with one of your siblings once they learn what I am.”

“Either that or you won’t be strong enough to be of use to me.”

“Then why take the risk, if I’m such a liability?”
He gestured grandly to their surroundings.

“Do I look like I have much to lose?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yeah, about that,” Olive said primly, refusing to get up and leave just yet.  “I want to hire a maid for myself.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said reluctantly, “but don’t get your hopes up.  The king has made it clear that I am in his disfavor and no one wants to be associated with me now, except as a spy.”

“Then let me do the hiring.”

He let out a sharp laugh.

“Oh yes, that’ll work out great,” he said sarcastically.  “They’ll either turn and run as soon as they see where they’ll be working or you’ll wind up hiring one of those spies.”

“Let me try.”

She let all of her frustration and anger come out in that one short sentence.  Perhaps she was in a world that was not her own, frightened and disoriented, but she would not be kept helpless.  Cariun’s mood sobered at her desperate, angry plea.  The earlier dismissive mockery was gone, replaced by a careful calculation.  He sat up, carelessly shoving the bottle onto the crowded table.

“Fine,” he said with a thin smile.  “Let’s see if you can impress me.”

He went to the desk and rummaged through the drawers, coming up with a pouch embroidered with delicate flowers.

“I’ll give you some money,” he continued, counting the coins inside.  “It’ll be a week’s wages for a maid suitable for your station.  Ask their salary requirements first and if they ask for less - don’t hire them.”

“I understand,” Olive said, catching the coin pouch he tossed to her.

Which was placating him without actually agreeing with his stipulations, she thought.  She’d hire who she damn well pleased.

“I’ll put a message in the guild hall tomorrow for you,” he said.  “It’s likely that most of them will recognize the address they’re to apply at and not bother.”

“Guild?  I know a little about guilds from my own world - are you allowed to hire outside of them?”

“Yes?”  He looked a bit puzzled.  “Guild membership only means you have a certain level of competency.  Are yours more strict?”

“I think so.  I mean, we stopped using guilds hundreds of years ago and I’ve only got an average knowledge of history.”

It sounded more like a certification agency with a job board, she thought.  Still.  She didn’t like the thought of sitting around waiting for someone to show up on their front doorstep.  She needed help now.  There was going to be a lot that Lylle wouldn’t be able to help her with and it was unfair to depend on her too much, besides.  She already had a job.  Olive didn’t need to be going to her for everything.  She needed someone else that understood this world and could help her navigate it safely.

She had some ideas of her own on how to get what she wanted.  She took her money and her notes and began to leave, thanking Cariun politely for his time.

“Olive,” he added as she walked to the door.  “If you hire someone that betrays us, then their blood will be on your hands.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’ll be on the hands of the person swinging the sword,” she retorted, and then hastily ducked out the door before he could respond.

Which was a coward’s way of getting the last word in, but she still felt pretty pleased with herself nonetheless.