Wilhelm smiled at her, one that seemed filled with mischief than gratitude. "No, I suppose you can't. But that's why I hired you right? If I did get punched in the face, why then I'd have to dock your pay according to how much pain I suffered." He laughed, springing up to his feet. He instantly set about fastening drawers, tying up ends and locking... locks of the various compartments of the massive closet-suitcase on the bench. "By the way, Mirrah, I'd appreciate it if you actually accomplished what I sent you out to do instead of wearing it to deceive others about your look."

She let out a light laugh, grabbing the white hair on her head and sliding it off. It revealed a head full of dark red hair braided into pig tails. She straightened up, standing a full foot over the boy. A mass of hay fluttered out from underneath the cloak draped about her shoulders. "I can't help it, no one believes that these items are real anyway! This hair is really itchy. Where did you say it was from?"

Wilhelm threw her vicious glare upon her relinquishing her disguise. He leaned over, snatching up the white hair from her hand. "You have a terrible seller's pitch then. Didn't I tell you that pushing items into people's faces would scare them away more than sparking curiosity? Take off that cloak, that's merchandise."

Mirrah unclasped the cloak at her neck, slipping it off of her shoulders and began to shake out the hay. "You hired me to protect you, not to be your errand boy." She handed over the cloak, which Wilhelm took and folded it, shelving it away inside of his suitcase. She raised an eyebrow. "What, packing up already?"

Wilhelm just stuck one hand to her, palm face up. "The balm too."

The second balm landed in his hand, which he stuck in another compartment, fastening it up. "I would've thought you'd want to sit there a bit longer, doing nothing."

"Well, you managed to buy me some time with that little stunt you pulled, but I'd rather not be here when they find out that it doesn't even work." He closed the suitcase, the edge of the doors glowing a light purple as they slid shut. With a heave, he slung the case over his shoulder, tossing it to adjust the weight. "The husband looked like he wanted to kill me." He grabbed his hat, sliding it into his head, leaning over to grab the heavy overcoat and scarf, and then turned to face Mirrah. It was rather irritating, to have to look up just to see her, but Wilhelm had gotten rather used to it. He squinted in the light. "By the way, did you find any news on our client?"