"Madam Zarra," The man called out with such delight you might have thought that she was his long-lost daughter. "To what does my shop owe the pleasure of your radiance this morning," he gushed. Greg had to give it to the guy, he had one slick tongue. Before they even knew what was going on, they had been ushered into a side room where Madam Zarra was urged to have a seat and given a few refreshments while Greg stood beside her as her manservant. Meanwhile, the man continued to keep the charm at eleven, every second statement rolling off with a casually inserted complement to Zarra. And from the way she was smiling, it was clear she was eating it up.
Despite the question being asked at the outset of the conversation, ten minutes of the two talking passed before Zarra got around to why they were there. By this time, Greg had picked up on a few things. The first is that the man was the owner of the store and the woman at his side was his wife. While he was the owner, they helped each other in the work. From their talk, Greg also learned that this store only served the highest echelons of society. As a result, the guy seemed to be aware of a lot of the on-goings in the noble circles. He didn't share anything that might harm anyone's reputation, but Greg could see in him the sharp look of someone that knew more than he was letting on.
The only flaw that Greg noticed about the man, was the slight air of snootiness about him. From the moment they'd stepped into the shop, he'd acted like Greg was completely invisible. Forget acknowledgment, the man had barely even glanced his way from the moment he stepped into the shop. In fact, the only time Greg had noticed his mask of geniality slip a little was when Zarra told him why they were there. Being the informed man that he was, the man knew about the dinner the Mayor was planning to have. He assumed that the woman had come in last minute for one of his dresses. When he learned that she instead wanted him to fashion a uniform for Greg, the man looked at Greg like he was a fly that had landed in his food. Part of Greg understood his thinking. One of his dresses being worn to the dinner party by the already attractive Zarra, would draw a lot of attention to his store. None of the nobles, however, would be bothered to learn where a servant got their uniform. Still, this didn't make the man any less of an asshole in Greg's mind.
Despite his displeasure, however, there was no way the tailor could decline Zarra's request without offending the merchant's wife. Given the stature of the one making the request, he also couldn't offload it to one of his attendants as it wouldn't show the due regard that Zarra commanded. As such, he did the next closest thing to ignoring Greg, he set his wife to the task. "Dear, would you be so kind as to take the young man's measurements?" The words were a question, but the tone of his voice made it quite clear that there wasn't really a choice to be had in the issue. And while the words employed were polite, there was none of the effusive warmth that he'd directed towards Zarra. Once the instructions were given, the man once again ignored Greg's very existence and continued to talk with Zarra
Despite his increasing dislike of the man, Greg smiled at the wife when it became clear that she would be the one he'd be working with. Much to Greg's surprise, there was a bright blush that spread across the woman's face at his gaze before she turned away and meekly indicated for him to follow. If the two beside them had been even a bit more attentive, they'd have noticed the odd reaction from the woman. They, however, were too absorbed in their talks to catch anything. Had this been the first time he'd seen this kind of reaction, Greg would have been confused. However, in the real world, Greg had just finished an event where most women had been giving him this very same look.
Greg had to exercise a lot of self-control to keep his expression natural and prevent his eyes from going wide. With the dungeon restricting the use of any of the external items Greg had come to rely on, he had simply assumed he had no powers to bring to bear in this arena. It now occurred to Greg that he might have become a bit over-reliant on magical items. How else could he have forgotten that not all the titles he had were dependent on the items? After cashing in his first feat of lust, Greg had bought the innate title of AROUSING from the system. The first rule had been quite clear that only innate abilities could be carried over into the dungeon. And given the fact that the title was attached to him directly and not through an item, this single title was still active even within the dungeon!
Greg knew that the chase he'd been part of all morning was partly to blame for the fact that he hadn't picked up on the title's presence sooner. Another part of him, however, was reprimanding him for forgetting a crucial detail such as what abilities he had. It was his great fortune that this had happened inside a dungeon where death wasn't permanent. In the real world, there were no take-backs. He couldn't have a do-over just because he made a stupid mistake. This was a mistake that Greg wouldn't allow himself to make a second time! Greg couldn't help but mentally review everything he had available to him even as he followed the tailor's wife.
The two of them came to a stop on the other side of the room. From the way they were seated, Zarra could see the two of them at a glance. The woman's husband, however, had his back to them and all his attention focused on the woman before him, completely disregarding what was going on behind him. By the time they came to a stop, the woman seemed to have gathered enough courage to begin her work. "Hold out your hands, please," she instructed. Greg smiled and did as instructed not hiding the desire in his eyes as he let his eyes roam over the woman's body.
"Your husband is a fool," Greg spoke up only loud enough to be heard by the woman before him. The woman's gaze flicked from the measuring line she was using to regard Greg. Still, Greg didn't continue directly. Instead, he watched her with an easy smile. Just as her initial surprise was about to turn to offense, he continued. "If I had a woman like you by my side, I don't think I'd ever be willing to let you out of my sight," He said. Had she been sober-minded in that moment, she probably would have come to her husband's defense. The bright pink that spread across her face, however, told Greg that she was like a fly caught in his web. Her loyalty to her husband was fighting against the arousal she was probably feeling in that moment. And given the way she was biting her lower lip, Greg could tell that her loyalty was losing the fight.
"Look at him," Greg continued, glancing over to where The tailor was laughing with his employer. "He has such a beautiful woman at his side and all his attention is taken away the moment another one steps into the shop," He spoke. Greg knew perfectly well the importance of getting to know one's clientele and making them feel welcome in one's business. He, however, also knew just how competitive women can be with one another. Despite his snootiness, the husband was doing the right thing by trying to get Zarra to feel as welcome to his establishment as much as possible. That, however, wasn't what Greg whispered in the woman's ear. "We both know that you look much better than her," Greg whispered in her ear even as she turned and looked over in her husband's direction. Greg still held out the hand that she had begun to measure. His other hand, however, slowly roamed over the small of her back. Greg could feel the shiver that coursed through her body even as he pulled her close.
"S... stop, please," The woman made no move to push him off or resist his advances. She knew, just as well as he knew, that she was at his mercy. Her resistance to him had been completely eroded and if he played his cards right, he could take this woman right here.
Greg, however, relented and let go. "Forgive me," he offered in a tone that wasn't the least bit apologetic. "I just couldn't help myself," He added. "It's all your fault for being too alluring," He complimented with a roguish smile.
