CHAPTER 15
Salt and grime clung stubbornly to my legs and feet.
After our return from the harbour city, we each retreated to our quarters in the castle.
I had barely finished combing my damp hair when I noticed Reagan’s shadow slipping through the gap under the door.
He didn’t knock this time, just waited silently on the other side of the frame.
I stepped out soon after, and without a word, fell into step beside him as we made our way to the dining room.
“How can I help you there?” I asked, quickening my pace to match his effortless stride.
“You already are,” he said, his gaze fixed ahead, distant. Thoughtful.
I sighed, struggling to quell my restlessness. “Do you really expect me to just watch? Why don’t you let me help you?”
Reagan’s gaze flicked to me, the sharp edge of his expression softening into something lighter.
“Believe me when I say you already are helping. Having an emissary by my side sends a message. It shows unity. In my experience, most of these deals hinge on trust and strategy. A capable staff reflects a credible ruler. It reminds them we’re strong and well-supported.
So you may speak or just observe. Either way, you’re already helping.
” A faint grin curved his lips. “Besides, you’re interesting.
They won’t be able to resist your human knowledge. ”
A reluctant smile betrayed me before I could stop it. “I’ll be your entertainment then, if you think that’ll make a difference.” The reply earned a low laugh that seemed to linger as we reached the window-filled room.
Dinner began uneventfully, a meandering exchange about our recent visit to the city and other topics. Much of it focused on their relentless fascination with human habits. But then the discussion shifted, and we began talking about the purpose of our visit.
“All right,” Coriander said, glancing at Alameda for silent confirmation. She gave a slight nod, her golden-brown eyes glinting in the low light. “Let’s hear it, Reagan.”
As if on cue, the remnants of dinner vanished, leaving only goblets of wine and ale. Reagan’s expression remained as neutral and as at ease as before, but there was a quiet precision to the way he leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping idly against the armrest.
“Let’s talk trade,” he began, launching into the details of his current imports from Erisea and explaining our reason for being here. “Our needs have changed. I wish everything were as simple as textiles, but sadly, it’s not. We came to discuss the current deals for grains and other provisions.”
Coriander nodded. “Do you want to revisit them?”
Reagan’s chin dipped. “Jane and I want to renegotiate, but not just in quantity. You know that I agreed to these orders with Erisea before you two. But since then, the pace of change in Mountheim is creating too many urgent trades, which are very costly, as you know. Last time, we just created a standard arrangement that we see across other estates. But we live in different times than our parents did. So I spoke with my staff, and we decided to plan ahead rather than digging into the coffers over and over.”
He looked at me as he spoke, and I gave a confirming nod, playing along as it seemed to be what he wanted.
Coriander tilted his head, and Alameda leaned forward.
“It’s interesting that you say that. We use the same terms in our other arrangements, and you’re right. The costs for unplanned orders are terribly high,” Alameda conceded.
Reagan nodded, his gaze lingering on the wine glass in his hand.
“We’ve reviewed all our agreements, and it simply makes sense to renegotiate most of them. That’s why Finn and Gwin are in Vaelon already, discussing matters there. We want to establish larger trades for longer terms, in exchange for more agreeable costs.”
A pause stretched, then Coriander exhaled a thoughtful hum.
“I wonder how far we can stretch the terms we’re using now,” he said, turning to Alameda. “Perhaps we could apply this new standard to other trades that might be mutually beneficial. Textiles, to start with.”
Reagan set his glass down, brow lifting as if weighing the possibility.
“Sure,” he said. “We’d be willing to discuss textiles too, if you think we can renegotiate the cost of Mountheim’s imports.”
I watched them, rolling my ring around my finger, observing the conversation unfold.
Reagan wasn’t merely requesting a larger order for his estate; he was establishing new terms. He framed the discussion so that the Barrows could see the advantages for themselves, making it seem like the logical next step.
Alameda tapped a polished nail against the table’s edge. “You know we import leather in abundance,” she said.
Reagan met her gaze evenly. “I remember. It’s one of your rarer materials.”
And that was why he’d slipped textiles into an offhand comment.
Coriander leaned back, thoughtful. “Good. Then let’s revisit the terms.” He met Reagan’s gaze. “We need you to propose the new conditions to the staff. I’m sure you can explain it better.”
Reagan nodded.
The conversation reminded me of restocking the shelves at Pember & Quill. I had once leveraged additional titles from the same bookseller. It was a different item, but the concept could work here too.
“Do you also trade in jewellery?” I asked.
Three pairs of eyes turned to me. I ran through the speeches I’d prepared before the fair.
“Alameda mentioned earlier how much she admires Mountheim’s silversmiths,” I went on. “As far as I know, Mountheim also has an abundance of metals.”
“Your relics are remarkable,” Alameda said, her gaze flicking to the necklace at my throat.
“And I don’t think we trade in them. I know there’s a market here for it.
I’d be open to importing relics that are already manufactured.
I’m as interested in the craftsmanship of your runesmiths as I am in the silver itself. ”
Reagan leaned back in his chair, expression content. “I’m sure we can discuss that. When can we meet your staff?”
“Tomorrow,” Coriander replied. “I’ll send for Nala tonight, and then we can discuss terms that are realistically agreeable with her and Roak.”
Reagan inclined his head, satisfaction flickering in his eyes as they found mine. “Brilliant.”
◆◆◆
“What?” I asked.
Reagan had been glancing my way since we left the dining room, as if I had just grown wings on my back.
We had a lengthy discussion about the border patrols after exploring the possibility of exporting to Erisea. After dinner, the Barrows left to inform their staff about potential new terms, and we planned to reconvene tomorrow.
Now we headed to our own quarters.
“I’m just surprised by you,” he said, his hands buried in his pockets, as his elbow swung slightly, grazing my arm. “Surprised that you were paying so much attention.”
“I think the words you’re looking for are thank you.”
A genuine smile tugged at his lips, flashing white teeth that were far too attractive. He halted abruptly, grasping my elbow and bringing us both to a stop. “How did you know about the silver?” he asked.
I froze for a second. “From the audience in Mountheim,” I admitted. “That seamster said your smiths aren’t short of materials.”
His eyes wandered across my face, as if he were searching for something.
“Thank you,” Reagan said. “Your idea to trade relics was a good one. I hadn’t thought of that. I think I’m blind to some of the options.”
I nodded, relieved. “Sometimes it’s good to have another mind nearby,” I murmured.
His hand squeezed the tip of my elbow as he said, “Come on, I want to show you a place.”
Reagan pulled me forward, guiding us through the corridors.
I wondered whether he planned to guide me to another study or library. The idea piqued my interest.
We descended the stairs to the ground floor, passing maids and manservants, their gazes following us.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we slowed down in a corridor that felt like the lowest part of the castle. The sound of a stream came from somewhere near us and was increasing.
“It’s easier if I show you,” Reagan said, guiding me down a hallway of cream stones with no furniture or decorations.
We crossed an arched passageway, and the space on the other side was completely different from the rest of Erisea Hall.
The air here was warmer, steam and humidity clinging to my skin. The room was dimly lit, and the sound of falling water grew louder with each step.
It didn’t take long for me to realise this was no ordinary room.
A very real, very blue body of water nestled in the centre, its surface smooth and gleaming, like liquid glass.
Light streamed in from an unseen opening above, casting shifting patterns on the stone walls. The soft murmur of water falling filled the room, as if there were a secret waterfall tucked away behind the stones.
“By now, you’ve noticed that Erisea has a fondness for water,” Reagan said as we circled the spring.
“This is one of the caverns that houses their famous Pools of Quintessence. They’re meant to keep the element close.
Actually, I think this is supposed to be the purest form of water, almost like a fifth element.
Honestly, I think it’s the coolest thing about this Hall. ”
I had to agree. There was a strange sense of being outdoors, surrounded by nature. The water itself glimmered as though touched by moonlight, tiny flecks of silver shimmering beneath the surface.
“It’s very odd to have this inside the Hall,” I said, still bewildered.
“It is,” he said with palpable eagerness in his voice. “Do you want to get in?”
My brows rose, and my eyes left the spring to find Reagan already untying the laces of his boots.
“Get in? As in . . . in the water?” My neck flushed.
“Obviously,” he said, a taunting grin tugging at his lips. When both shoes were off, he began unbuttoning his shirt. “We can go half-clothed.”
“Oh . . . well, in that case . . .” I huffed a laugh, though Reagan kept his gaze fixed on me, clearly expecting a real answer. “I can’t.”