12 Chapter 12 Absolutely No Cleavage For An 8-Year Old!!! (1/2)

Knocking on his father's door with a catchy tune from his last life, he heard his father answer, ”Come in Joseph.”

”Father, I wish to go around town and sight see with my attendant. I would like some pocket money and a couple guards, please.”

”Ahh, I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice her.”

”It's been twelve days since I met her in the kitchen.”

His father laughed softly. ”Very well, but I'm sending four guards. This way two can flee with you and two can hold back whoever is after you. Then if something else happens, one can carry you while the last holds them back.”

Nodding, he turned to Stella, ”Do you know how much things cost so no one tries to take advantage of me?”

”Yes?” she answered with a noticeable lack of confidence.

Turning back to his father, he shrugged.

”Good enough.” His father handed him a small pouch of coins.

Hoping the guards would keep his wallet safe, he thanked him and they headed to the front room of the inn. Four strong looking slaves showed up rather quickly and they headed out to explore the town.

Joseph started checking out the merchants and craftsmen. He looked forward to eating at some of the street stalls later because the food smelled delicious. He was looking for workers who were obviously his dad's slaves, but wasn't having any luck among the blacksmiths. He decided to pick one to talk to anyway.

”Excuse me, do you make any whisks?”

”What's a whisk? Is it like a whip?” The half-dressed man was covered in soot and sweat from the fire.

”No, it's made of fine wires and you use it to stir eggs or stuff, very quickly…”

Joseph could tell that the man had no clue what he was talking about. After asking several of the other blacksmiths, and getting the same answer from all of them, that he probably wanted to talk to a jeweler for such detailed work, he felt a little disappointed. Stu would have loved a whisk as thanks for teaching him magic.

They continued on, and it wasn't long before he spied a rather nice seamstress shop. It had a nicely drawn sign and wasn't on the main road, which meant the prices would be better. He knew from his previous lives that those businesses on the main streets had to pay extra for being there, and thus had to pa.s.s on that price to their customers.

”h.e.l.lo? Is the shop open?” he asked.

”Yes, sorry, I'm here.” A short lady stood up from behind a pile of fabric. It looked like a s.h.i.+pment of fabric had just been delivered, and they had arrived in the middle of her sorting it.

Spying a rather nice dress laid out, piqued his interest. It confirmed his desire for the shop. Taking out his slate, he started to draw a dress he wanted made. Studying it, he thought it wasn't bad for a 7-year old. Unfortunately, drawing was not a skill he got from either of his two lives.

”Could you make me two dresses that are like this?”