Boots could be heard making their way down the cobbled walkway up to the Baron's manor.
A girl of 5'2 wearing a deep brown trench coat and tight black trousers along with a green corset ending at the top of her stomach could be seen making her way up the steps. Her vivid green eyes and chin length honey blonde hair bobbed with heron each step. she raised her fist before pounding on the door rapidly.
"Oi! Baron! Open the hell up, would ya? I'm here like ya asked!" She hollered.
What a brute of a girl.
The door promptly swung open to reveal a plump old man of the age of near forty-five. He had dull blue eyes and a brown graying mustache. He quickly hurried the girl inside before closing the door nervously. Said Baron turned around, intending on scolding the girl, but he realized she was elsewhere. More to be exact, by the windows. She, with her vivid green eyes, where examining the latches on the door and looking at something only she could see. The man sighed.
"Miss Lockheart, must you really be so loud during the middle of the night? I have neighbors and a wife, you know." He complained.
The girl shrugged before continuing her inspection of the locks on the doors and other windows in the room.
"Well, Baron. You simply insisted that I not show up during the day to do my routine inspections and fix ups. So nighttime is really the only option now. And stop calling me Miss Lockheart. Emma is fine. And I wouldn't be pounding on the door if you'd just answer it sooner. By the way, I know what the problem is with this lock." She said offhand.
"Really now?" He questioned.
"Yup. Someone tried to break in. See, this little part right here is bent. It only bends like that when someone is putting force on it. Luckily, I can fix it." She explained.
"B-broke in?! They didn't succeed did they?!"
"Nope. Nada. That's why I checked the other locks in the room, to see if they were bent or not. Looks like they never made it past this window lock, which is a good thing for you, mister. Yup, you would have been one dead Baron." She told him emotionlessly.
The Baron paled considerably.
Emma, however, continued on fixing the lock on the window. She reached into her brown trench coat for one of the many pockets that it held in its depts. and pulled out a small wrench. After a bit of pulling and pushing here and there along with putting a reinforce on the latch, the window was good as new. She sighed happily.
"Ah! There ya go! It should work as well as it did before they tried to break in. However, if you have the money and if you want, I can put new locks on everything in your manor here for ya. The price will be hefty since this is some new stuff I've been working on, but I'm sure your family security comes first, ne, Baron? She suggested slyly to him.
He looked at her hesitantly before looking at the window then back at her and nodding his head.
"When is the soonest you can update the locks, Emma?"
"The night after tomorrow. And don't worry, LockHeart Security strives to please and protect. You'll be promised the best we have to offer you and your money." She said while walking out of the house and down the front steps and waving bye.
Ah, yes, I suppose it's time we introduce our leading lady in this story.
This young brute of a girl who wears clothes that none of her high-class customers would have her coming over in the day-light hours, least their neighbors think they have invited a lady of pleasure into their house, is Emma Gladice Lockheart.
She is the owner of a well know up-start security company known as LockHeart Security, who deals with the making of locks, weapons, and other various things of metal that its owner pleases to make. Her shop is small, situated somewhere in the suburbs of London. The front of the shop is where she takes her customers, from Earls, Barons, Lords, Noblemen, and common people. The back is the blacksmith part. This is where she makes the locks and other things, putting her signature mark on them. Her mark was that of a heart with a key turning in the lock residing in the heart. Above the shop is where her small bedroom, kitchen, living room, and Layla's room was. Layla was a five year old girl that acted as a clerk for her when she went on business at night to go fix customers merchandise, or when she was simply in the back. She had taken Layla off from the streets after seeing the girl fighting her way for some bread with a bunch of older boys in the back of an alley. She figured that, if a child that young already was willing to fight against others for a chance to live, then why the hell couldn't Emma give her a better chance. Plus, Emma did need a clerk that she didn't need to pay. So, being the brash lady Emma Gladice Lockheart was, she simply walked over to little Layla who was about ready to tear an older boys leg off if she could and picked her up by her neck. And so that was how Layla was carried potatoes style, cursing all the while. Afterwards, she was named Layla Lee Lockheart and found herself greeting Emma every night.
Which is where we were at now.
The door to the shop opened and Emma was greeted to Layla sitting on the tall bar stool, looking bored as ever. Her gaze
flicked over to Emma before looking back at the magazine she was reading.
"Welcome home Emm-! Hey! Let me go! Emma! Damnmit!" She shouted.
Emma, however, was too busy cuddling Layla's tiny form. She always got a kick out of seeing the kid's blushing face and irate face. Layla was just so cute to her though! Those large brown eyes and that long black hair that goes to the middle of her back. How cute!
"But~! Layla! You're so damn cute!" She whined.
"Yea, well, I don't care. I wanna go to bed."
"Oh, fine." She huffed, " But you really shouldn't curse! So unlady like!"
Layla whirled on her.
"YOU'RE ONE TO TALK! Look at those piercings! And the way you dress! And to boot you curse too. between the two of us I'm far more lady-like." She crossed her arms.
Emma blinked for a few moments before shrugging.
"Point taken. Anyway, help me close up shop, will ya?"
"Yea, but hurry up. I want dinner." Layla complained.
"Ohhhh~! So cute!"
"Quit it!"
After an hour of closing the shop they both were upstairs in the small kitchen. Emma was at the stove while Layla sat at the table. She was preparing chicken noodle soup for them with bread and strawberry shortcake for dessert. Just because they lived in a small apartment didn't mean that they weren't a bit well off. They do have A-list clients after all.
"...You make the strangest things for dinner, Emma."
"Be quit or you'll starve! "Emma yelled at her, " Ungrateful child. I cook for her and all she does is critic me. You used to fight for bread ya know."
Emma muttered the last bit under her breath. She could take anything you throw at her, but comments about her cooking.
"I wasn't saying I was ungrateful. Just that some of the things you make are strange. That's all .Geesh." Layla muttered.
"Hmph. Sure, sure. Just eat the soup. I think you'll like the shortcake by the way. I put more milk in it this time."
"Hmmm. You're right. It's much better than last time."
"Awww~! my baby likes it!" Emma squealed happily.
"I'm not you're baby, damnmit!" Layla looked flustered as she said this.
"Sure~, Sure~!" She waved her off.
It was quiet for a bit before Layla asked Emma something else.
"Hey Emma?"
"Yea?" Emma replied. She was busy counting the money from today's profits.
"Why do you have those to piercings in your ears? I mean, I've always seen you with them, but I just don't understand why you wear them. Or why you dress that way. I mean, I've never seen anybody dress that way and I know it's not a fashion statement. So, I just wanna know, why?" Layla inquired.
"Oh, haha." Emma smiled sadly at her before putting down the money she was counting and brushing back her short hair.
"I guess I should tell you, since we do live together. Well, the earrings are from my mom. The tops are called cuffs. That's why they hug my ears so much. The bottoms are hers too. She really favored these. I was only raised by a female, ya know? Strange, right? But anyway, she gave these to me. I wear them to remember her. And the way I dress with the clothes and because of the short hair? Well, I hate dress. Honestly If I wore a dress while doing my work, I'd probably catch on fire. And I prefer trousers and short corsets. I'm more comfortable. I'm me and I feel free. In this life that we only live once Layla, it's best to say screw everyone else and care only for a few people. You'll be happier that way, ne? Besides, can you ever picture me in a dress hahahahaha?" Emma was laughing her ass off at the prospect of herself in a dress.
"No, I guess I can't." A tick mark appeared on Layla's forehead. She would though love to see her caregiver in one.
"Oh, Layla," Emma asked wiping tears away," I know we don't normally get guest at night, but did we? Just in case."
Layla had to think for a minute. Was there in visitors this time around night? Normally no, but she felt like tonight they did have one. It took a minute before she finally remembered and pounded her fist into her other hand.
"Oh! Yea! We did have one! He was quite the looker too. He was wearing fancy clothes and asked if you'd be in in the morning tomorrow. He said his master had heard of your skills and he was hoping to come by and talk to you for his master if you were in. I told him that you didn't have anything on the schedule, so most likely you'd be here. He looked like a nobleman though Emma, but he said he was here for his master. It was kinda strange for him to come by at night, don't cha think?" Layla asked.
Emma leaned back in her chair and put her boots up that went up to her calves on the table. She looked up at the ceiling in thought for a bit before shrugging her shoulders and looking back at Layla.
"I've honestly no clue. He could think I'm a prostitute. I mean, it's not like it hasn't happened before. If he gets a little too frisky, then we'll just brand his ass. Plain and simple, ne?" She said simply.
"Okay...but get your feet off of the table! This is a place for eating! Not dirty ass boots! Emma!"
"Oh! Lighten up! Geesh, for a kid it's like you've got a stick up that ass of yours!"
And so, they continued bickering, not aware of tomorrows events.