Chapter 85

Sophie

Day 74 of First Landing

Kronfeldt

Beneath the White Fox Exchange and Loan, I sat behind a newly installed mahogany desk. The wood polish gleamed, and beside me sat a stack of parchment, a bright red Scarlet Fowl quill, and an ink bottle. The past few days had been hectic—recovering from the, all things considered, ineffective attack on my home while catching up on my business interests—or rather, Thornhill’s.

The road south to the Trade Depot near the waterfall, a half day’s ride from the northern gates of Thornhill, was half-finished at this point. Even so, it had significantly reduced travel time, allowing me to journey on my new white steed in about two days, weather permitting.

Upon returning, besides stabling my horse, I first deposited the massive pile of money Orion had given me, along with Thornhill’s tax cut. He had looted the Eldrin coffers during a raid and handed me roughly one-third of the spoils. The rest went to the mercenaries as incentives for their hard work on construction projects. Naturally, he and Thornhill trusted the White Fox Exchange and Loan to manage the gold at a reasonable return.

As the month neared its end, I prepared to pay off the bonds I had sold to the women I’d networked with. They would undoubtedly request renewed bonds, but this was meant to be a one-time arrangement—startup capital for the company.

My biggest concern now was increasing the supply of Firecracker Berry tea. With most resources focused on Thornhill’s defenses, tea and teaware production had fallen short of expectations. I had spoken with Samar and Anika about expanding their berry orchards, but they faced more pressing concerns, like medicine and food. We reached a compromise: workers from Kronfeldt would help build new farms and orchards halfway between Thornhill and Kronfeldt. These would all be controlled by the East India Company.

In exchange, Samar and Anika requested supplies: mattresses, pillows, and clothing, particularly for Samar’s younger daughter. These were minor expenses, and though they could have asked for more, Bianca and I were already wary of the growing wealth disparity between those who could produce valuable goods and those who could not.

To address this disparity, shares in the East India Trading Company and the White Fox Exchange and Loan were distributed among the villagers. This was intended to balance wealth across the community. Over time, dividends would be paid out, and a catalog of foreign goods available for purchase from the Company, in a commissary fashion, would be provided to the villagers. Of course, I earned a modest one-percent commission for managing the enterprise—a small incentive, but enough to motivate me to secure the best deals possible.

The village's most pressing needs were toiletries, socks, shoes, and undergarments. Beyond that, the council was already preparing for winter, so I was tasked with securing either coal or peat to heat Thornhill. Meanwhile, the science wing had two priorities: tungsten and rubber, the latter specifically for making bicycles.

Right now, to gather the money needed to repay the bonds, I was collecting on a debt that had come due. It wouldn’t provide much money, but it offered something just as valuable: information. I nodded to the boar guard who stood watch over the stairway to the basement of the White Fox Exchange and Loan. He bowed and returned upstairs to ensure no one interrupted me during my work.

Having reached Level 3 of Espionage, I had unlocked a new skill: Agent.

Agent - C

Give an Agent card to a willing person. This person will allow you to listen in and view through their eyes and ears, as well as hear your instructions. Only one agent is allowed currently.

The card was the perfect foundation for my spy network. We needed more information—specifically on threats, Super’s location, and the mysterious village of Fairhope, another settlement of Voidborn Earthlings. The next phase of my plan was to establish an information network to keep Thornhill—and, more importantly, myself—secure.

Throwing out the card labeled "Agent," I activated the skill. A vision appeared in my left eye and ear as if in split-screen or picture-in-picture mode. I could see and hear everything from my Agent’s perspective

“Kaeven,” the elder began, his voice heavy with weariness. His graying black hair clung to his scalp, slick with grease, and his piercing yellow eyes burned with the weight of endless disappointment. “Have you been at the taverns and gaming tables again? Tell me—what fortune have you squandered this time?”

“Fear not, Father,” Kaeven replied with a laugh, light and careless. “Luck has turned in my favor. I am unshackled of all debts now, truly.”

“And by what miracle, pray, did you achieve that?” The elder’s tone sharpened. “What part of your inheritance did you sell this time? Or have you found some other family treasure to barter away? Last time, your debts forced us to sell the town’s mining rights to the nobles.”

Kaeven scowled. “Nothing, Father. Truly, nothing. The Dealer favored me this week in Badar.”

“Badar? You know those games odds are stacked to the house,” the Mayor’s lip curled in disbelief. “Do you think me a fool? Oh, if your grandmother could tear herself away from her copperleaf pipe and cast her eyes upon her spoiled and inept descendants…” He let out a bitter laugh. “She’d immolate these lands and rebuild from ash. Oh, how the House of the Phoenix has fallen.”

With trembling hands, the mayor poured himself a glass of wine. He stared into the dark liquid as though seeking solace and looked near to weeping.

“Father, please. I mean it—my debts are paid in full,” Kaeven insisted, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice.

Mayor Kaelan regarded his son with a skeptical eye, then sighed heavily. “One day, Kaeven, the mantle of Mayor will fall to you, whether you want it or not. Kronfeldt is no ordinary town. The iron from our mines forges the duchy’s weapons, and now gold has been discovered. A place of such importance demands a ruler of strength and temperance—not a man who squanders his time at the gaming tables and in the Silk Lotus.”

“Father, you’ll live to a hundred,” Kaeven replied with a dismissive chuckle. “It’ll be fifty years before I need to think about ruling. Let me enjoy my youth while I can.”

The Mayor’s expression darkened, his voice dropping low. “Circumstances may change sooner than you think.”

Kaeven straightened, the shift in tone unsettling him. “What do you mean?”

The mayor leaned closer, his words laden with gravity. “Listen well, and speak of this to no one. Duke Aulric lies near death—he may have but months to live. When he passes, my life could be forfeit.”

“What?” Kaeven blinked, his father’s once-imposing image seeming to waver. “Why would anyone threaten your life?”

“I am Lady Evilith’s uncle,” the Mayor explained, his voice tinged with frustration. “And she is your cousin. As her strongest ally, I stand as an obstacle for the ducal seat. But Count Oleric or Wiscal may see me removed to strengthen their claims.”

“That makes no sense,” Kaeven said, shaking his head. “Evilith is the rightful heir. The line of succession is clear. Why would there be a contest?”

Mayor Kaelan growled, setting his glass down with a clink. “Had you spent less time in the company of drink and dice and more with matters of state, you might understand. The path of politics is rarely so simple, Kaeven. Were your mother still with us, she might have guided you to see the truth of it. She had a way of making you listen.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

For a moment, silence stretched between them as the mayor gazed into the distance, lost in thought. Then, almost as if to steady himself, he poured a measure of liquor and raised the cup to his lips, sipping slowly.

“On another matter, boy, have you seen to the task I set before you? What news do you bring me of the White Fox Exchange and Loans?”

"Ask him why is he so interested."

Kaeven shifted uneasily. “Why is this matter of such importance, Father?”

“A civil war looms on the horizon, and they’ve already purchased the rights to the iron mines and the smiths. This shouldn’t be news to you, Kaeven—Dealer’s balls!”

"Hmm… Now, Kaeven, recite what we rehearsed."

“I have made inquiries as you asked,” Kaeven replied. “It appears that a great number of noble families within Kronfeldt hold shares and bonds in the company. The chairperson is known by the name White Fox, though little is truly known of them.”

The mayor stroked his chin thoughtfully. “And who, pray tell, is this White Fox? Their name has come to my ear more than once. I must have words with them.”

“My sources suggest that the White Fox is little more than a figurehead, Father,” Kaeven continued, “A mere symbol for the shareholders who truly hold sway. I have seen more than one individual don the White Fox’s mask—it appears they employ several former members of the Banking Guild. The true power lies with the nobles who invest heavily in the White Fox.”

“Interesting…” Mayor Kaelan stroked his chin, nodding slowly. “I did not expect such insight from you, Kaeven.”

"Come now, Kaeven. Do the song and dance. You signed a Contract, remember? Do you remember the penalty for failing it?"

For a moment, Kaeven was silent, his expression clouded with unspoken thoughts. At last, he spoke, his voice hesitant. “If I may, Father, any interference or sanctions against the White Fox could provoke unrest among the nobility. The company is a vital asset to Kronfeldt, filling our coffers with their taxes. Just last week alone, they accounted for thirty percent of our tax revenue. I believe it prudent to remain neutral—for the good of the town.”

The mayor’s gaze narrowed as he considered Kaeven’s words. After a long pause, he gave a slow nod. “Sage counsel, lad. Perhaps there is hope for you yet. If the nobles are as entangled in this venture as you claim, then I must ensure they see that their fortunes lie with Evilith in the coming conflict. Should war fall upon us, they will need to align themselves wisely.”

With a weary sigh, the Mayor sank into his chair, cradling his drink. He stared into the dark liquid as if seeking answers, the weight of his burdens evident on his face.

"Good work, Kaeven. Now show Daddy what a smart boy you are."

“There is more I wish to present to you, Father,” Kaeven said.

“Oh?” The mayor raised an eyebrow, setting his cup aside as he stood. “You’ve been rather industrious, it seems. Let’s hear it.”

Kaeven handed over a parchment. “This,” he explained, “is a list of the town’s guards.”

The Mayor unrolled the document, his eyes scanning the rows of names. “And these columns mean…?”

“I conducted an investigation,” Kaeven replied, stepping closer to point out the divisions. “The names in the first row are guards you can trust implicitly. The ones in the second row are loyal but undisciplined—they require firm oversight to perform adequately. The names in the final row, however…” Kaeven’s expression darkened. “They are utterly corrupt. They must be dismissed, and some may need to face imprisonment.”

“How did you carry out such an investigation?”

“My agents tested each man with bribes,” Kaeven began. “The ones who took the smallest amount are clean—they accepted only out of necessity, to avoid suspicion. Those who accepted a modest sum require discipline to set an example. I suggest a public lashing. But the last group… they not only took the maximum offered but were willing to bend any town law to do so.”

“I see…” The Mayor rubbed his chin, his expression darkening. “This hardly inspires confidence. If every one of my guards is willing to take a bribe, why should I trust even those who accepted only the minimum? Even a small crack can shatter the foundation.”

“The men operate under a code,” Kaeven explained carefully. “Refusing outright marks you as a snitch. For many, taking a bribe was their only way to protect themselves. I believe they had no choice, Father.”

Mayor Kaelan studied his son for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “I’m surprised, Kaeven. You’ve done well—better than I expected. Perhaps there is hope for you yet. We may make a statesman out of you, after all.”

For the first time, Kaeven saw a flicker of pride in his father’s eyes. And so, he felt the weight of shame settle in his own heart.

“Awww… isn’t that sweet, Kaeven? Daddy is proud of you! I told you—this is mutually beneficial, right?”

Kaeven clenched his jaw, ignoring the voice. “I will take my leave, Father,” he said curtly, bowing slightly before turning on his heel. He exited his father’s mansion, stepping out into the crisp evening air of Kronfeldt’s upscale district. The polished cobblestones gleamed under the warm glow of lanterns as he made his way toward the Silk Lotus.

As he approached, the familiar scent of incense and exotic spices wafted through the air, mingling with the faint hum of music and laughter.

“Well, well, look who it is,” came a rich, sultry voice. Trufflenose, draped in her usual extravagant silks, stood in the doorway with her arms wide open. Her grin widened as she saw him. “If it isn’t our favorite client.”

Kaeven sighed, a weary smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Madame. I wish to enjoy your flower gardens. Matters of state have left me quite famished.” He greeted, stepping into her embrace as the music and warmth of the Silk Lotus enveloped him.

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Not interested in seeing Kaeven's depravities in the bordello, I pushed the Agent card back into my palms. I reflected on the information shared so far. The investment I’d made in the little mayor’s son was already bearing fruit, in ways both expected and surprising.

Hours later, after finishing with the dull yet necessary paperwork, a soft knock came at the door. I didn’t have time to call out before the door creaked open. In strolled my young runner, Nax. He was barely taller than the desk, a mop of tousled hair hidden beneath his woolen cap. His orange-furred ears twitched, and his long tail swayed behind him—Nax was a cat beastkin, his feline traits making him look adorable.

"Milady Lois," Nax said with a bright smile. "The caravans are all loaded up, just as you ordered."

I returned his smile, amused by his enthusiasm. "Excellent work, Nax." I plucked a Third from my purse and tossed it his way. He caught it with both hands, wide-eyed as if I’d just handed him a king's ransom. Along with it, I passed him two parchments, both sealed with red wax. "Another delivery."

“Where to milady?”

“You are to join your brother with the caravan to Lord Clark’s village. Deliver this letter to Lord Clark, undisturbed.”

Nax's face lit up even brighter. "To Lord Clark's village?" he asked, nearly bouncing on his heels.

I chuckled softly. "Indeed. You’ve always been curious, haven’t you? Now you’ll get to see it for yourself. But this isn’t just a holiday, Nax. I’m trusting you to get this to Lord Clark. Directly."

He nodded eagerly. "I won’t let you down, Missus Lois. Thank you for... well, for everything."

"Your brother’s still with the caravans, isn’t he?" I asked as I rose from my chair.

"Yes, Missus Lois," he said, puffing up with pride. "He’s riding with them now. Can you believe it? Never been on a pony before!"

"Good," I murmured, glancing out the hopper window, pretending I didn’t already know every detail about his brother’s newfound job. "Bronzeclaw and one of his Whitefang mercenaries will be with you, too. Make sure to give Bronzeclaw my regards, won’t you?"

Nax nodded so quickly that I feared his cap might tumble off. "It’ll be done, I swear. And... and thank you again."

He turned to leave. I watched the door close behind them with a slight smirk. Yes, the boy had his uses. But more than that, his loyalty was something I could nurture. Something I could mold.

After a long day, I spent the night roaming the streets, grabbing a bite to eat, and watching a show. Before retiring to an inn, I wandered to the ruined pier and glanced across the lake. There, my newest project was unfolding. Massive tree trunks floated on the lake and felled in incredible numbers. The ancient forest behind the lake was being cleared in the march of progress. Beyond that, construction had begun on a mill that would grind the wood into sawdust, which would eventually be processed into cardboard and, more importantly, paper.

There were more ways Thornhill could conquer this world beyond just weapons.