He couldn’t fight, couldn’t farm, cook, keep books, keep stock, teach, or fuck. All he had was his mouth, and an ability to spin a yarn, just long enough.
She could fight, but she preferred to get things over with quickly, so every day she trained with a hidden blade, if she could.
Often she couldn’t, as the two would be in a new town, running the same old scams. The distressed lady in a back alley, the tourist needing assistance, the wealthy widower scam…
Every day, they’d swear they hated the other one.
Some scams you pull on yourself.