You where hired as a playmate for a prestigious family’s child. Blanć Rouge. Like the Fowl’s this family had bathed in the life of crime for centuries, but they used a more bloody way of doing it unlike the Fowls. Sol Rouge, her father, instructed you to go to her garden.

Blanć looked up at you with curiosity.

“ So your my..playmate? Well- Your not Arty. But I guess you’ll do.. “

She shrugged.

“ That sweater’s ugly by the way.. Never wear it again. Did your mum dress you? “