Miss Eleanor Vargo, like many other young women, was incredibly bright from a young age. As a child, she enjoyed watching her father work managing the Vargo County. She was especially adept at science and engineering, often thinking of new inventions to make life easier.
While she was young, her ideas and penchants were adorable to her father and older brothers. As she grew, however, they began to find her overbearing and unladylike. She took more to silent studies over time, keeping her ideas to herself.
She was studying in the palace library one day after a tea party with the young Princess, when she ran into Lord Pendleton. He had attended the academy with her brothers and heard their talk of their sister and her unusual interests. Unlike the men of her family, he accepted her and nourished her as a budding inventor.
For three years, he spoke sweet words, sent expensive books, and stole every single idea Miss Eleanor ever came up with to profit himself. And he planned to continue doing so for the rest of his life. Why wouldn't he? He found an incredible cash cow that he could keep under his thumb with a simple 'I do'.
"He pretended to care about me," Miss Eleanor huffed as she finished her story. "He used my emotions to take advantage of me, and steal everything I've dedicated my entire life to, without any acknowledgement or payment!"
"A most despicable man," I agreed. Even if the woman reported her stolen ideas, nobody would care. If she had been a man, she'd be awarded a proper trial and compensation. But as a woman in this cursed society, her only option was to come to me.
"Please, if you could take care of him before the wedding," Miss Eleanor requested. "I can't break off the engagement on my own, and I refuse to spend the rest of my life locked away like some kind of golden goose!"
"Of course, Miss Eleanor," I assured her. "Six months is more than enough time for me to do what I do best. I'll have him kneeling in tatters before you by the time I'm through with him."
For the first time since she began talking about Lord Pendleton, the woman's face brightened. "Thank you so much, Miss Scandal Maker."
Later, when the sun had sunk low and all the shady characters in the city began emerging, I found myself at one of my regular information brokers. It was the back room of a tavern that was only popular among commoners and fallen nobles. The man who ran the brokerage (it was his brother who ran the tavern—a sort of joint effort) was handsome, in his thirties, and went by the name 'Blue Fox'—honestly, it suited him with his long brown hair always tied back like a fox tail. He was also rich, single, and absolutely the worst scoundrel.
Well, not the worst worst. But you get the idea.
When I arrived at his office—garishly decorated and a tad bit messy—, he greeted me with his usual abundance of physical affection, to which I responded with a good shove.
"Oh, Miss Scandal Maker, when will you finally open your heart to me," he cooed, falling back into his chair dramatically.
"Perhaps when you grow a heart yourself, Mr. Fox," I spit back, seating myself in the chair opposite him. "Enough of your nonsense. You know I'm only here for business."
"Yes yes," the broker clicked his tongue. "I swear there's a sour old maid hiding behind that pretty face."
I ignored the obvious provocation and slid the strip of paper I brought with me across the table. "The usual package, please."
Mr. Fox read the name on the paper carefully. "Shouldn't be a problem," he rubbed his chin, "but you should know that our prices have increased lately."
"Ha! Don't make me laugh," I rolled my eyes. "I'll give you the usual and not a copper more."
"Hey, I have to make a living too!" the man shrugged. "The nobles are starting to get tighter security with some weirdo going around ruining their reputations-" he gave me a pointed look, "-and it costs me more to get the info."
".. how much more will it cost then?" I decided to forgo an argument. His logic did make sense. After all, it was tough for all of us lately—those of us who profited off corrupt nobles, that is.
The man kicked his feet up on the table and held up four fingers. The smug look on his face alone was enough to make me want to rip off every single one of those fingers. But instead, I held up two fingers of my own.
The man shook his head without even considering my counter. "The price is the price. Though.. I could think of another way for you to pay-"
SMACK!
"-ahem, as I said, the price is the price," he insisted, sitting back in his chair with a hand to his red cheek.
At least a single slap was enough to make him come to his senses. Though the price for the information was steep, I knew it was worthless to even bother checking somewhere else. Trying to dig it up myself was also a no go, considering Lord Pendleton's standing.
"Fine," I counted out a generous stack of gold coins from my purse, including the four extra ones, and stood to leave. "I expect your work to be top notch for that price, Mr. Fox."
The broker smiled, his eyes fixated on the gold. "Isn't it always? That's why you still come here, after all."
He was right. We both knew that for cases like these, he was the best of the best. If only he wasn't such a sleazeball.
"Don't get cocky," I smirked from the doorway. "And do hurry with that information."
I stalked back out into the tavern to find that even the drink prices had gone up. These lousy brothers were robbing everyone. Still, a crowd of merrymakers with red cheeks and slow tongues seemed none the wiser to the price increase.
"What fools," I shook my head and then sat down and ordered a nice cold pint.