Morena had already left the Brenle estate and was on her way back, the wheels of the carriage coming to a slow pace as they entered the gates.
The yard was quiet in the late afternoon, most of the servants had already finished their work for the day and gone home, and those that remained were merely the housekeepers.
When the carriage stopped and she exited, she didn’t slow her pace and pushed past the doors, greeting the guards along the way.
She crossed the hall, passed the sitting rooms, and made for the wing where her father’s bedroom was located.
Her father’s door was open again, and the second she entered, she was hit by the scent of herbs and the warmth of the fireplace. The man himself sat on his chair near the window, a book in hand; yet his gaze shifted when she walked in.
He glanced up from the book, closing it as he noticed it was her.
She moved into the room and closed the door behind her, taking a seat near his own.
"I went to House Brenle."
His brow moved the slightest bit.
"Adolf mentioned you got a letter. How was it?"
"She made an offer. She said she would provide us with supplies as well as coins, but in exchange, we need to provide our presence and men in the city. She wants our men as visible as possible, markets, gates, and escorts for caravans."
"It’s not a terrible idea, supplementing both House lacking parts, what were her terms?"
"Her steward is still drafting the contracts, but from what we spoke, just some carriage escorts, enhancing security throughout the city, and keeping the city under control from the church. We ’protect’ her merchants, and our stores get a fixed allotment monthly at a reduced rate." Follow current novᴇls on 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵✶𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖✶𝓷𝓮𝓽
He thought for a moment, his eyes closing briefly as his years of experience brought up many issues with such a broad statement. But only one was pressing enough to address.
"What about the church? That would make you an enemy of them."
"Not entirely, after all, we’re doing what they wanted, we’re assisting inspections. Helping them look for their heretic and keeping the city peaceful, nothing more."
He nodded once, then looked at her. He also considered such an excuse, but even he knew it was just empty words that the church wouldn’t believe.
"That is very dangerous."
"It won’t hold them off completely, just hinder them publicly."
He tapped his fingers along the surface of his book as he thought, a habit that he had much like Morena. Perhaps it was a trait that passed on between them, like father, like daughter.
"From what I know, Ella Brenle has had a keen eye for business since she was young. She was the one who helped in preventing the decline in her family and even grew it further. If she’s offering such a deal, I’m inclined to trust her instincts, or knowledge."
He paused for a second, his eyes looking directly into Morena’s own, and speaking with a firmness that she could feel.
"But do not get dragged along by her. Remember, your actions no longer just reflect you, but the entire House."
"I know, I’ll make sure that we benefit more from this than we could possibly lose."
He gave a short snort in response to her words and turned his head to face the window once more.
"Good, you already know how to boast well."
He placed the book he held down on the window ledge and stood up slowly from the chair. She could see the slight wince in his face as he moved; it was for just a split second, but she could tell it still pained him.
The poison hadn’t been completely expelled, so far, he had been surviving because of his strength as a Rank 2 Warrior and because of Marta, but even that had a limit.
Any normal person would be dead by now; in fact, if he were any weaker, if he were only a Rank 1 Warrior, he would already be dead. His body wasn’t healing properly, he couldn’t gather all of his strength, and slowly his insides were being eaten away by the poison.
The elemental energy, his fire, it burned it away, but it couldn’t heal it completely. The poison was much too strong; from what Marta had been able to figure out, it was a mixture of various snake venom and the blood of a sea serpent.
Sea Serpents were rare in these parts because of how far they were from the ocean, but she knew about them from the many books she read. Their blood was extremely toxic, so toxic that most sailors avoided engaging with them in fear of getting touched by their blood.
"Let me offer you two pieces of advice, Morena, take it as the ramblings of an old man."
His words snapped her out of her thoughts, shifting her focus from his side to his face.
The man now stood near his dresser, moving around some items she couldn’t clearly make out from her position.
"First, never let the flow of coins decide your action. Money is often useful, but from what I have learned in my years of experience, money only gets you so far; what you need is power. Never give up your power for wealth."
"Never go into debt. I’m not talking about money, but favor; never owe anyone anything, and never allow someone to hold anything over you. In my years of experience, do you know what the most common cause of death was for strong men? A favor they couldn’t fulfill."
Morena tilted her head a little at the second piece of advice he offered her.
She understood the first one; it was straightforward enough, and even she knew not to rely on wealth and that she would need to work on her own personal strength if she wished to survive.
But she just couldn’t make sense of his second one.
Of course, she knew debt wasn’t a good thing; she had no interest in falling into any form of debt or owing anyone anything, but could it be that serious?
"That can’t be true, right?"
As if expecting her to reply like that, a short scoff of amusement escaped his mouth.
"It’s not entirely right, maybe I am just exaggerating as I grow worried. But it’s not wrong either; many good men have fallen victim to those who would claim their debts."
"I understand, I won’t let that happen to me."
Morena smiled at her father’s needless worrying, or maybe it was needed? Sometimes it was hard to tell, because at times she made decisions based on complete safety, but at other times she took needless risks.
Perhaps it was just her hunger for knowledge that blinded her to danger at times. A trait she would need to work on.
"I never asked. What do you think of her, do you trust her?"
His sudden question threw her off guard, but it wasn’t outside of reason.
"It’s hard to say, she doesn’t seem too bad, but I can’t trust someone who works as a merchant. Not fully."
A tired smile decorated his face as he walked back over and took a seat. In his hand, he held another book; this one had no cover.
"That’s a wise choice, none of them ever tells the whole truth. Though from what I know, she’s not too bad. Ah, too bad that fiancé of her’s is terrible."
"Terrible? Why do you say that?"
"Look at us, gossiping. From what I remember, the wedding was arranged by their families before she was born, when they were still declining. Because of that, breaking it off isn’t very easy, but the guy himself isn’t too good."
This was news to Morena; perhaps that was why Ella acted the way she did before. Her wedding was one that was arranged, and it seemed like she had no interest in it.
’Was her interest in me her way of getting freedom then?’
She rolled her eyes at the idea; she had no intention of being anyone’s taste of freedom.
"Something tells me you have many thoughts about that?"
Her father quickly picked up on her hidden thoughts; it seemed his instincts as a parent were still as sharp as ever, even though they weren’t all that close before.
"What? No, it’s nothing like that. Uh, why do you say he isn’t good?"
He narrowed his eyes slightly at her reaction, but he decided not to press the matter. She was old enough to handle herself.
"He’s a waste. And I’m not saying that to be rude; he does it to himself. He has the chance to do something with his life and become more, but he spends his time wasting his life away, partying, drinking, hanging around with the wrong crowds..."
His words trailed off slowly into silence as he realized they may sound like insults to Morena herself.
Just a few days ago, no more than weeks, she was the same way he was describing the man to be. While the circumstances may be different, while she may have tried her hardest in the past before crashing onto such a path, it didn’t change how it sounded.
It came across as her calling her, the her in that moment, a waste.
But Morena didn’t blame her father; she would call that version of herself a waste, too, a fool who wallowed in self-pity instead of trying anything to get better. If she was going to drink herself to death, might as well die doing something better.
"You’re right, he does sound terrible."
He sighed at her response, but he didn’t say anything else and allowed the silence to stretch on between them for a long moment.
He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, just resting.
"Then go on now, you’ve already spent too much time here. Bring me the paper when it’s final. Let me pretend I still sign things that matter."
She stood and nodded.
He didn’t bother answering when she left the room and went on to do her job.