Spider kiss of the ugly assassin just wouldn’t do. Somehow, her mask had been mistaken as her actual face, and now she was being called an “ugly assassin” by the town criers. Every time she heard them yell out how the deacon had been slain by the spider kiss of the ugly assassin, instead of the proper term which should be poison kiss of the spider assassin, she had to restrain herself from correcting them. That would be far too suspicious.
She was nearly out of the city now, anyway. She had made her way to the livestock district, full of butchers, tanners, and interesting smells. Once she was back at the cattleyard it was pretty easy to navigate her way through the rancher’s entrance for their herds. A guard was posted there, but as his main function was counting heads in a herd for the entrance tax, he barely paid attention to the hooded woman leaving the city.
Once night had fallen, she was well out of the city, on her way to the next city, the next target. An ugly spider mask was eventually found by some children in a village a few days travel from the city, who threw the mask down a well.