I stood in the academy's central plaza, dressed in the shop's "exclusive manager's uniform"—a sleek black tuxedo with a necktie that felt like a noose. A stack of flyers sat neatly in my hand, their edges crisp and untouched.
Cassandra had called this "model/drip marketing."
"Just stand there," she'd said, "with your usual indifferent, cold gaze. Let the outfit do the work."
I glanced toward the trio—Cassandra, Princess Sara, and Lannete—huddled behind a statue a fair distance away. They were barely hidden, peeking out like amateur spies, giving me enthusiastic thumbs-ups and what they probably thought were motivating gazes.
Why are you hiding behind a statue?! Everyone can see you!
I suppressed a sigh.
This was ridiculous.
I knew exactly what Cassandra was doing—using me as bait to lure in customers (specifically female ones). And while I wasn't against honest marketing, this felt… cheap.
Ten minutes passed.
Nothing.
