“If you can charge whatever you want, then you should be charging fifty dragons!” Hura’gh declared loudly while they were out chopping wood for the cider house fireplace and still one evening.

The stairs to the basement were hidden behind the woodpile out back, and the weather was getting colder. Those were all excellent reasons for Lucas to do this work, but that wasn’t why he was doing it. Instead, it was to get fitter.

As well as his potions kept his strength up to get through the day, he’d grown to resent the addiction. Not that it actually was addictive, of course, but for the last few weeks, he’d certainly been reliant on the bitter draught, and he was determined to change that.

So, during times when he was neither needed downstairs nor off on another stultifying sales trip to make nice with high-class junkies, he was up here, learning to use a wood axe. At first, he’d been laughably ineffective, but now he could split wood, just not as fast as his half-orc companion.

“You’ve got to put your back into it!” Hura’gh teased him regularly. “Your skinny arms aren’t going to do anything to that thing!”

He had a fair point, Lucas thought, but then he also had 150 pounds and almost a foot of height on Lucas, so there was that. Still, it was good for him. Between evenings spent wielding the axe and mornings spent going on longer and longer walks looking for plants that his helpers seemed to have a hard time finding, he was certainly making progress. Lucas was even starting to put on some muscle for the first time in a very long time.

“We charge what we charge so we keep the customer,” Lucas said pausing to lean on his axe handle as the steel head rested on the wood he’d been working on as he explained the facts of life to Hura’gh. “You only get to bleed ‘em dry once, but if you bleed a little every day, you’ll get a lot more in the long run. You know?”

“But why would you have to bleed anyone at all?” Danaria asked, making Lucas practically jump out of his skin. “Are you two talking about healing or…”

“Lucas was explaining to me why we can’t charge too much for the—” Hura’gh started to explain, but Lucas quickly cut him off.

“For the, uhm, mana potions,” Lucas volunteered. “Healing potions we can let go for cheaper, but—”

“I didn’t know that blood was a part of that recipe,” she said, making a sour face.

“It’s not,” he said quickly. “It’s just like a figure of speech. What are you doing out here anyway? It’s after dark. You should be in your rooms.”

“I just hadn’t seen you in a while,” she sighed, “And when I heard the chopping, I knew you must be out here somewhere.”

“Yeah, there’s been a lot of work to be done lately,” he agreed, trying to figure out how to transition to a safer topic.

“So why are you bleeding anyone?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you just charge a reasonable price?”

“I mean, that’s kinda literally what I was saying,” he said, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. “Maybe bleeding was the wrong word. I meant you have to charge what the market will bear.”

“Yeah,” Hura’gh nodded. “Lucas is smart. Just because something is addictive doesn’t mean you make them broke, you gotta… what?”

As the half-orc continued to speak, Lucas facepalmed, and by the time he opened his eyes again, Danaria was staring at him in shock, and at least a little disgust. “Lucas Sharpe, what are you selling these people?” she demanded.

Lucas saw that Hura’gh was about to open his mouth again and said, “Hey, I think you’ve helped enough already, buddy. Maybe you could give us a minute, okay.”

The half-orc nodded and then winked at Lucas before stalking off. That made Lucas scowl for an instant, as he was completely unable to believe the other man truly thought he was helping, but he quickly corrected it to a more neutral expression. He even tried to ease into a smile, but she clearly wasn’t buying it.

“I’m just selling what we have to, to try to get by,” he said finally.

“What does that even mean?” Danaria demanded. She was a sweet girl.

He doubted that she could take the whole truth, but he didn’t want to lie to her either. Especially not since the whole truth would eventually come out. There was simply no way around it.

She had to have expected at least this much, he thought. Especially after he’d tackled an invisible intruder in front of her, and her brother had announced that he was marrying that woman.

One day, her brother or the woman he was about to marry would say something. Even if they stayed quiet, she’d hear something at a party, and then whatever image she’d built up in her head as the man who had saved her brother from prison and was rebuilding her family's fortunes would be revealed to be nothing but another low-life dealer.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

He shouldn’t care about that revelation one way or another. She was nothing to him. Still, as she stood there trembling, he found himself feeling increasingly bad about the whole thing. This wasn’t how he wanted her to find out.

“Come on,” he said finally, delaying the moment. “You look cold. Let's go to my lab, where it's warmer. Then we can talk.”

As he showed her the secret door on the back of the ciderhouse he swore her to secrecy, especially as far as Arisse was concerned. Shge agreed, but when they got to the bottom of the stairs and she saw the hidden, well appointed room, she asked, “When did you do all this.”

“Well, we’ve been busy,” he answered. “Where do you think all those healing potions for Meadowin and the other peasants come from?”

“Don’t you try to side track me, Mister!” she said, with a sudden intensity that showed how quickly she’d seen through his attempt to deflect. “I know perfectly well that Cassara makes those in her little shop.”

“Yeah, she does now,” Lucas agreed. “But before that? The first couple hundred of them were made in this little cider house by me.”

“But that’s not all you’ve been making,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“But that’s not all we’ve been making,” he agreed. “Something had to pay the bills, and cheap healing potions and tinctures aren’t going to cut it.”

“Which is…” she asked after he sat there quietly looking at her while his mind raced and he decided how he wanted to handle this.

“Drugs, Danaria, we make drugs,” he said finally. He didn’t have the energy to dance around the point anymore. It was better to bite the bullet now than soft pedal it and lose all credibility when she learned the truth.

“You man… drugs?” she asked, in shock. “For who? Wha-why?”

“Nobles, mostly,” he shrugged, watching her deflate as he wondered if he’d made the wrong choice. “You know, all those letters you answered while I was recovering? Those guys are pretty much the top of the list right there.”

“You’re making and selling drugs, and I was… helping you?” she said, confused as her eyes began to tear up. “But Lucas, you’re a good person! You’re better than this!”

“I hate to break it to you, Danaria, but this is who I’ve always been,” he said, leaning back against the counter. “I’m just a low-life, scumbag, drug dealer, trying to get by.”

“But… you can’t,” she said, holding back the tears. “What about all the people you’re hurting?”

“What about all the people I’m helping?” he said, trying to find some fig leaf for all this. “Look how much more alive your village is since I arrived. Forget this Manor, in fact, fuck the Manor, just look at your people. Happy, healthy, and well-fed.”

“But that doesn’t justify this,” she said, tears running down her cheeks.

She was still close enough that he could hug her. He could just reach out and do it, but that felt wrong, so he stayed right where she was even as she advanced on him in a pleading way.

“It doesn’t,” he agreed.

“And now that everything is fixed, you could just stop and—” she started to say. Even after this painful revelation, she was still trying to find some sort of silver lining. She was still trying to find some way to save him from himself. It would have been adorable if it wasn’t so misguided.

“I wish it were that easy,” he interrupted, “But business like this, and people like this… you don’t just walk away from them, and if you try, bad things tend to happen.”

“But why would you do this here, in my house?!” she said, as anger flared through her, temporarily holding back the tears. “You say these people are dangerous… that woman… my brother’s. She could have killed you. She could have killed me!”

“Yeah,” he nodded, hurting from the low blow. “I didn’t want that to happen. I promise you that. We’re doing everything we can to make this safe. The upgrades to the house and fence, the guards, and—”

“None of those things will keep out invisible attackers, Lucas!” she cried. “And the guards. I thought they were looking for my brother. How many times have they been here now, looking for you?”

At this point, he just stood there silently, meeting her gaze with flinty eyes as he took her abuse. It wasn’t undeserved, and it wasn’t the first time, but he’d get through it.

“Well?” she demanded, finally.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked, finally.

“I want you to say you’ll stop, damn it!” she shouted.

That was the first time he’d ever heard the woman swear, and he was a little taken aback by it.

“Not happening,” he said. “Sorry. I can try to make sure you’re as uninvolved as possible, but—”

“Lucas, you’re on my estate, you use my name when you make these deals, and I’ve introduced you to my friends. Hells, I’ve written your correspondence!” she started calmly, but my the end she was shouting in exasperation again. “How can I ever be not involved again?”

Every time she’d yelled at him so far, she came another step closer to him. Now, she was practically in his face. She was so close that he could have leaned forward and kissed her.

“This has to stop,” she said finally, a cold edge to her voice. “We can’t do this. I’m going to talk to Adin, and we’ll—”

“Danaria,” he sighed. “I told you that can’t happen, but even if it could, what is it you think you’d live on if not for this money. Adin practically spent you into the poor house before I got here. This house was inches from being sold to pay his debts. You want to go live in a thatched hovel? You want to trade your extravagant dresses for linen frocks and your fancy meals for—”

Before he could finish what he was saying, she slapped him. It didn’t hurt. She was a frail wisp of a thing, and he doubted that even a punch would have done more than stun him. Still, he caught the hand on reflex before she could do it again.

“Unhand me this instant, or I’ll—” she demanded.

“Or you’ll what?” he asked with a cold smile. “You don’t understand, Dan—”

As she spoke, she kissed him full on the mouth. Though her slap had done less than nothing, her kiss had just enough passion to actually stun him, and for a moment, he stood there frozen. That was enough for her to wrench her arm free.

The moment he was no longer holding her, she ran toward the stairs. Then, she hiked up her skirts and ran up them to get away from him as fast as possible. Lucas didn’t even try to stop her. He just stood there, wondering what in the hell had just happened.