Lucas endured a veritable feeding frenzy of introductions and glad-handing as he made his way from the crowded area among the refreshments in the rose garden to the smaller clusters of men and women that were occurring toward the outer edge of the party. As he moved he looked for a likely group or two to get to know better, but most of these knots seemed to contain either men and women that were simply socializing or couples that were sneaking off for a tryst in the hedge maze or somewhere behind the fountains. It took almost ten minutes before he finally smelled something stronger than pipeweed.

He followed his nose to an alcove that prominently featured the statue of some hero he didn’t recognize. This far from the party proper, he could still hear the music beneath the dull roar of conversation. There were a few paper lanterns even here, done in the checked red and white of house VanDaven, but Lucas didn’t need them to find what he was looking for. He knew what he’d find as soon as he smelled the dank they were passing between them.

The smell was almost as familiar as the people. It wasn’t so different from weed on earth, and though it was considered an elven drug here, plenty of humans partook. These humans weren’t so different from the potheads he’d known his whole life. Even before introductions were complete, he’d had most of them pegged. They were second sons, disappointments, and burn-outs, the lot of them.

So Lucas put on his best smile and started making friends, agreeing with every aggrieved statement and passive-aggressive complaint someone offered in his general direction. The only thing he didn’t do was hit the pipe of dank too hard. Oh, he looked like he did each time it came around the circle, but he could smell the pixie dust that someone had laced this shit with, so he pulled a Clinton and only pretended to get blazed.

Not that anyone was the wiser. Most of this lot was too wrapped up in themselves to see much else, which made them the perfect customers as far as Lucas was concerned. So, he listened to everyone else's complaints while he pretended to have a good time. Lord Barwin thought that there weren’t enough attractive, eligible women at the party and would have much rather been carousing the red-light district. Baronet Melek agreed, but only because he was getting married soon.

“Pfa, there are more important things than women,” Lord Corrin, sighed. When he was harassed by his friends about what a terrible opinion that was, his only answer was, “I’d trade every woman in my family for one more hit of dusk.”

“Dusk, huh?” Lucas said, finding his opening. “I heard that was a thing here. Burned through Esterbrock a few years ago before people got tired of it. I remember it being okay, but it’s just like Mister… I mean Lord Barwin’s complaint about the girls at this party. There are better choices out there.”

That got a few laughs, but they only held off the inevitable questions. Was he really from somewhere so far away? Why would he travel all the way to Lordanin? If he didn’t think Dusk was that good, what was his drug of choice?

Each of the questions was predictable, and he fended them off in a predictable way. “Why, I’ve come to Lordanin to help my lovely cousin right the ship ever since… well, you know,” Lucas said, happy to throw Adin under the bus for a few laughs and a little street cred.

There were a couple comments about just how lovely Danaria was, and for a second Lucas felt the urge to throttle the man that had said it, but he mastered the urge and instead pretended that he didn’t hear it before continuing. “As to my drug of choice, well, that would have to be an abiding lust for life.”

Lucas waited a moment for the groans before he pretended to burst out laughing at his own bad joke. “Seriously, though, these days, besides a little dank to help me sleep, I don’t touch anything but Blue, I mean, what would be the point?”

“Blue?” Lord Barwin asked, “What’s that?”

A few others murmured similar questions, but Lord Corrin said. “Yeah, well, good luck with that here. I haven’t seen any of it for sale in the city for weeks now. Like Dusk, it’s gone. Whoever used to make it closed up shop and…”

His words trailed off as Lucas produced a vial as if by magic and held it aloft for all to see. “Supplies in Lordanin have been tight,” Lucas agreed, “But I’ve made my money through trades and traders captains, so I have a pretty good sense of who might be carrying what after I hear where they’ve come from.”

“Perhaps you could introduce me then,” Lord Corrin said, “I’m always interested in making new friends.”

“And Captain Welgin would love to make new friends, I’m sure,” Lucas said, making up a name. “Sadly, he’ll be at sea for half a year or longer before he comes back, but I’m sure, given enough time, someone new will pop in with some fresh supply.”

As Lucas finished speaking he tucked the vial back away in his suit watching Lord Corrin’s hungry eyes follow blue vial until it disappeared. “Do you think that maybe…” the young noble said, trying to figure out the right way to get his fix.

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Lucas had to pretend not to notice, of course, as prepared to move on to other topics and instead listened as another young noble who was pretending to be a tough guy explained why Demon’s Blood was the superior high. It was impossible to pretend to be tough while wearing a crushed velvet doublet or shoes with tips that curved upwards like something out of Santa’s workshop, of course, but the man was too young to know that.

“Oh, did you want to buy a dose or two?” Lucas said absent-mindedly as if he’d only just noticed the man’s pathetic expression.

“I mean, if you have some to spare, I’ve only a few dragons on me, but if that’s not enough, surely I can ask one of my brothers for…” The little lord kept talking, but Lucas stopped listening.

He couldn’t hear anyone over the sound of the dollar signs. Dragons. Plural? He’d always suspected that he’d been able to get more money from the upper class if he could find an in, but a two hundred, three hundred, or even five hundred percent increase seemed like a big step.

Suddenly, he wished he’d boiled down his last batch to make it even purer. If these dilettantes could afford to throw away such sums on a high, then he should have done everything he could to hook them for life.

The twinge of regret that followed that thought was small and passed quickly as Lucas leaned forward and smiled. “I think if you consider the cost and the effort that it took to obtain these little vials, you’ll find that three dragons are more than fair.”

For a moment, it looked like Lord Corrin was about to haggle as indecision warred on his face, but when one of his friends said, “Now, just a minute. Three gold coins for any vial seems a bit steep, don’t you think. Surely—”

“I’ll take it. Hells, I’ll take two if you have them,” Lord Corrin interrupted, quickly pulling out his coin purse.

It was his eagerness that sold everyone else. A moment ago, there had been a mass of skepticism. Now, though, everyone wanted a taste, and why wouldn’t they. Any of their outfits certainly cost more than the entire wardrobe of clothing that Lucas had just obtained.

The first five actually sold instantaneously, and when it was revealed that he only had two left on him, the bidding war the followed instantly pushed that price to five dragons a pop. Just like that, he’d made twenty-five dragons off of Blue, which was worth perhaps two dragons in his mind.

He smiled as he made his apologies. “I’m afraid that’s all I have to spare just now, but when I make my way back to my valet, I might have more. I believe I left a dose or two with him just in case, so check back in with me later.”

Lucas didn’t cut and run after that. He hung around for another twenty minutes, making friends and telling ridiculous stories about his adventures to ingratiate himself with these guys, and it was only when their pipe was out, and their glasses were empty that he found other people to schmooze with, well, at least that’s what he did after he picked his way to his coach and restocked his vials. He also had to empty his coin purse out, though he did that by ripping a hole in one of the cushions and stuffing it discreetly in there.

“I’m going to need to get a lock box for the god-damned coach,” he mumbled to himself.

Sadly, he didn’t have one, and he felt kinda dumb just leaving so much gold barely hidden like that. So he did the next best thing and paid his driver five silver kings to guard the carriage with his life. It seemed to be a reasonable middle ground.

At least until an hour later, when he had to come back a second time to dump more gold and pick up his last five vials of Blue. Then he upped his offer to the coachman to a full dragon. “If you try to take my shit and run,” Lucas cautioned, “you will live only long enough to regret it.”

The young man was a long time servant of the Parin’s, and only too happy to get paid to sit there. Word had spread, and people were interested in buying what Lucas was interested in selling. He even sold out his last five vials by the time Danaria finally tracked him down and forced him to the dance floor.

“Lucas, I can’t believe you left me standing there for almost two hours with those women!” she hissed as she took him by the hand and led him to the carpeted dance floor where people were forming up for what looked to be a line dance, though he was no expert in these things.

“I told you what I’d be doing tonight,” he whispered back, “and what’s wrong with those women anyway?”

“They wouldn’t shut up about you, that’s what!” she murmured as they took position near the far left side and waited for the band to come back from a short break.

“Listen, there’s plenty of handsome guys here,” Lucas started to say, “I don’t—”

“No, not that,” she said softly, trying not to laugh. He didn’t blame her even though it stung a little bit. He was far from handsome. “About your reputation, and my brother and everything else. When it comes to the noble women of Lordanin, anything gossip-worthy turns them into a pit of vipers, and I’ve been fending them off all night.”

That’s hardly unique to Lordanin, or even this world, Lucas though ruefully. He didn’t say that though. He didn’t even think about telling her that she might have had a little too much to drink and was coming dangerously close to slurring her words.

Instead, he opened his mouth to offer a clever apology and tell her how successful his night was, but as soon as he did so, his words were lost to the music, and he had to suppress a sigh. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He was finally going to have to dance and try not to embarrass himself in public.