“My Lady, you can’t possibly believe in this scoundrel, can you?” Skera impulsively exclaimed the moment Adept Rummy left the safehouse.

“I certainly believe in his talent. The rest, we shall see.” I calmly responded to her. Good men were hard to come by in these times, talented men even less so.

A peasant boy somehow managed to forge a revolutionary weapon capable of ending the Era of Knights. On top of that, he was crafty and decisive enough to instigate a turf war just to obtain the required materials. If he could join our cause, he’d be an extremely valuable asset. And we could really use the help.

To my business rivals, the Galahad Trading Company was like a delicious piece of meat, "protected" by a mere woman. Needless to say, many scoundrels had tried to take what wasn't theirs over the years. Through good fortune and sheer determination, we’ve managed to hold onto the company and each other. And thanks to the generated profits, I was able to build a refuge for the starving orphans and battered wives. I knew I was blessed with good fortune to even get this far.

But even I cannot expect our luck to last much longer. After all, I was an unmarried maiden, and should I marry, my properties become my husband’s or my father’s, depending on the dowry negotiations. If I kept playing by their rules, I would eventually lose everything dear to me. I was in a dire need of a fresh perspective.

Luckily for us, Adept Rummy hated the Knights and nobles as much as we do. I imagined he had seen too many monsters like Ser Paul in the dark alleys of Carnwennan that he’d never consider serving under them. If so, that would mean that we were natural allies in this wretched fairy tale. If he had any ambition beyond assassinating and looting nobles, he needed us as much as we needed him. A marriage of convenience, if I must be crude about it.

“What do you think about Adept Rummy, Emma?” I asked my other confidante.

“He is unlike any peasant man I’ve seen. Rummy isn’t boastful or prideful. He is careful and practical.” She handed his list of recommended items to me. “When Cornelius and I found him at his tavern, he had his hand on a weapon and his eyes on the nearest exit. He even intentionally provoked us to test our sincerity with the offer. Do not underestimate him, my Lady.”

Thank goodness I could rely on Emma to provide a more objective analysis of the matter at hand. Skera, Gods-bless-her, was utterly incapable of doing so.

As I was reading the list, Skera scoffed. “I still don’t see what’s so special about some jumped-up brigand who’s just a bit more clever from the rest. I bet you’re just infatuated with him.”

Emma smiled and giggled. “Of course I am! Did you see how he effortlessly struck down Antonius? No hesitation and no mercy in that righteous execution. How many peasants do you know could do what he just did?”

“He isn't doing it for justice, Emma! He’s doing it for the loot!”

Flicking her long braided violet hair aside, Emma dismissed Skera’s moral arguments. “Skera, the sooner you realize that there is no justice in Carnwennan, the better. Power is the only thing that matters here. Besides, I reckon Rummy needs the loot to build more of his wonder weapons. Developing an era-ending weapon on a peasant’s budget is simply impossible.”

After a short sigh, I finished reading the list and handed it back to Emma. “Get everything he recommended by tomorrow. We’re going to the Narrows right after the summon.” I put on my hood and exited the safehouse with Skera. As much as I’d love to stay in the safehouse, I had to return to the main mansion. Unfortunately, I was summoned to Father’s study tomorrow morning. I’d presume he’d inform me of his progress on my “matchmaking”. I shuddered to think what kind of unscrupulous brute that greedy man planned to sell me off to…

***

“Where were you this late past curfew?” My self-important younger brother Valerian demanded as I entered the mansion.

“Business, dear brother. Now please step aside. It has been a rather trying day.” I casually dismissed him.

“Not until you tell me what you’ve been up to!” He shrilly yelled.

“Skera, would you mind?”

“Not at all, my Lady.”

“As the young master of this House, I command you to sta-”

*CRASH*

Skera ignored my brother’s command and shoved him aside. I walked past him without saying another word. The idea that this pathetic brat is the heir to the Galahad household must've been a cruel joke instigated by the Gods. The less I look at him, the less indignant I’d feel.

“YOU UPPITY BITCH! DON’T YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM ME! I WILL-” He continued to scream obscenely before I walked out of earshot.

What an unpleasant little man Valerian had grown up to be. The times when we were kids merrily playing games in the garden seemed liked a lifetime ago. This was what I loathed about this patriarchal society- it turned otherwise decent boys like him into entitled men who believed the world should be handed to him on a silver platter simply because he was born a man.

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As the eldest male heir, Valerian was given all the resources he needed to surpass me. On our 18th winter, he was given an already-profitable forge-smithy to manage while I was given a floundering trading company Father had previously run into the ground. Had he worked diligently and surpassed me, I would’ve at least acknowledged him as a worthy heir. But even with all the advantages he has had, mediocrity was all he could manage.

Which was why he had resorted to petty harassment like what happened tonight. In his simple mind, if he intimidated me enough with manly aggression, my fragile feminine ego would eventually crumple and give into his absurd demand to surrender the ownership of the Galahad Trading Company to him. As one could imagine, the resulting month-long temper tantrum was as pointless as it was annoying.

Regretfully, I had no more time to spare thinking about the pathetic man my little brother had become. My lifelong dream of building a sanctuary for people to escape the worst abuses of this patriarchy was in danger once more. I needed the company profits to fund the sanctuary- and if I were to lose the company, who knows what would happen to the orphans and battered women under my care.

I’d been able to delay things by appealing to Father’s towering pride and insatiable greed. I’d hoped this trend would continue for a while longer…

***

“Enter.” A deep, stern voice came from behind the double oaken door. One of the guards opened it and allowed me to go through. Father was smoking some sort of hemp-based cigar while sitting on a brand new throne-like chair made from ebony. Piles of documents littered his antique mahogany desk.

I approached him and curtsied. “Father, I hope you are well.”

“Tali.” Father casually greeted me between puffs while glancing at a document.

“Father, I hope you’ve had a productive trip to Clarent.” Carnwennan was a frontier fortress. Luxury items that dominated his study all came from Clarent, the nearest city 2-3 weeks away by horse. If he purchased something new, he must’ve gotten it from there.

After another puff, he replied. “Oh, I certainly did. Fell in love with this Ebony throne while I was there.” He patted the hand rest of the throne for emphasis. “And Marquess Mordred was kind enough to gift me this exquisite hemp cigar to try.”

“Did they offer any aid or support in this war?” I inquired. After all, this was the stated reason why Father left Carnwennan the day after hostilities broke out and left Valerian in charge of the war effort. Considering their generally neutral stance, it was a futile venture from the start. In fact, I would’ve preferred if he just told me he was going on a vacation.

Father looked a bit stung. “No, nothing aside from vague promises and statements of support.” He took another puff. “They did once again express interest in you as a potential match for Gaius. And I tentatively agreed. A formal interview should happen after some negotiation.”

“Father! They're clearly trying to take advantage of our family with this lopsided proposal. We mustn't fall for such a ploy!" Appealing to Father's pride had historically worked. But not today.

"Don't worry, Tali." He said before taking another puff. "When it comes to the actual negotiation, I won't back down for anything less than military and diplomatic aid on top of the usual dowry. If they think they could walk all over me, they've underestimated me. After all, I've played the game for more than 30 winters."

I supposed I shouldn't be shocked that appealing to Father's pride made him even more prideful. Next, I tried to smear them.

"Father, I’ve heard that House Mordred is closely connected to the Yellow Shirts. We can’t consort with these filthy blood traitors!” I firmly stated. Well, that rumored “connection” between House Mordred and the Yellow Shirts was probably an exaggeration. But I saw no reason to let the truth ruin a good narrative.

“Don’t be naive, Tali. Don’t believe every gossip and rumor that reaches your ears. An ancient House like theirs would never work with those savage thugs.” Father waved his hand dismissively as he continued to savor his imported cigar.

“Father. You know that the truth doesn’t matter in this case. We are in the middle of a war, and those upstarts are allied with the Yellow Shirts! Even the slightest association with them would project weakness at a critical time.”

Acknowledging my point, Father sighed deeply while rubbing his temples. “This godsdamned war! It had drained our coffers quite considerably. Your brother seemed to think that we could use the dowry to finally finish it off. You are right to worry about the reputation of House Mordred, but this match could result in a decisive end of this war in favor of this family.” Father reasoned. It would’ve sounded a lot more sincere if I didn’t know that his annual expenditures on women and wine were an even bigger drain on our coffers than this pointless turf war.

“I should also note that Valerian was in charge of the war for weeks and he had accomplished nothing of note. Let us be frank, Father. There’s a reason why I’m in this room now and he’s not.”

Father chuckled as he inhaled once more. “So sharp… It’s a godsdamn shame you were born a feeble woman…”

I held in an urge of mine to shout that this family was proof that women are just as capable as men. However, Father and I had thoroughly exhausted one another on that particular argument. It was simply not constructive to rehash it. Instead, I appealed to his basest instinct of all- his greed.

“Father, there’s nothing to lose by holding off on a response. Let them panic and increase the proposed dowry! If we slow-play our hands right, we could even keep the Trading Company for Valerian to run into the ground.” I cooly quipped.

Father bursted into laughter as it echoed across the room. The greed in his eyes shone brightly- now that I pointed out to him all the ways he could profit from slow-playing this proposal, he couldn’t see any other option even if my mediocre brother screamed it into his ears. After all, luxury furniture from Clarent didn’t come cheap…

Once more, I managed to buy some time, but it was only a matter of time until my persuasion failed me. This was a losing war from the start, and I knew I wouldn’t stay unmatched for long. I desperately needed exit strategies, and the Wilds of Carnwennan was sadly one of the few options I had left.

I sincerely hoped that the Narrows was a lot more hospitable than what the books implied.