There were butterflies in her stomach.

Such a frivolous saying, Jessabelle had always thought. So strange and whimsical, only a child would use it. And yet, right now, it was the most apt description for how she felt that she could think of.

The pressure of pleasing her new lord had been building over the last week, and now it was reaching its peak. Lord Reud had been polite, even friendly over the journey. A far cry from the arrogance she’d grown to expect from her interactions with other nobles during her travels with her father. Absent too were lustful comments and lewd gazes she’d endured during those interactions, replaced with a piercing look that seemed to cut right through her and deep into her darkest places.

Not that she would have minded too much if he had made a move.

His paleness had a certain charm of its own, and his power was… exciting. But he hadn’t given the slightest indication that he had any desires towards her in that way, not even stealing a glance towards her when they took a break to wash in a stream. She knew he had Lady Lilia, but still…

Looking back out the window, Jessabelle took in the surrounding city, the familiar buildings evoking an onslaught of memories. The last time she had been here was with her father, half a dozen years ago. That was back before his illness, back before she’d had to drop everything and care for him until the end. Back before her brothers had betrayed her, splitting the business between them and leaving her with nothing.

Family, always the best and the worst people in one's life.

Ahead, their destination came into sight. The house of an old friend of her fathers, Viscount Zovran Duras. He’d been like an uncle to her, and with any luck, the fondness he had shown during her past visits wouldn’t have faded. The Viscount owned a flourishing trading network specializing in luxuries for the nobility, everything from intricate needlework to gourmet delicacies. Through him, she should be able to contact other traders, and put out the word that Srinaber had the funds to be worth visiting.

Turning to Lord Reud, she pointed out their destination. Without a word from him, the carriages turned slightly, rolling along the road towards it.

The horseless carriages were unnerving at first, but the smoothness of their travel quickly grew on her. Unlike regular carriages, they hadn’t needed regular stops to feed and rest the horses, instead able to continue all day and night. Sleeping in the carriage was difficult, but it wasn’t much worse than the cramped and pricey rest-houses that lined the route. A journey that would have taken her father almost two weeks, took them less than half that.

Lord Reud was always full of wonders.

As the carriages trundled to a stop before Zovran’s towering mansion, its door opened and a well-dressed man walked out, his nose thrust into the air arrogantly.

“There are no appointments scheduled for today.” He said, folding his arms behind his back. “Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit?”

Jessabelle smiled as she stepped out of the carriage. “Carson! It’s been such a long time!”

Carson’s eyes went wide as he looked her over, a crack appearing in his stoic visage. “Little Jess, is that you? I…” His professional demeanour snapped back into place. “I will inform Master Duras immediately, he will be most pleased to see you. Please, follow me to the receiving room.”

Jessabelle stepped to one side, waiting for Lord Reud to disembark as well, before following Carson to the main house. The building was large, impressive even for the inner city. With the title of Viscount, Zovran Duras was a highly influential man, outranking most others with titles in Avonford. Therefore, his home was built to reflect that status. Expensive, tall windows lined the front face of the building, revealing opulently decorated rooms within.

Carson pulled open the main door, gesturing for them to enter with a flourishing bow, just as formal as she remembered him to be. Within, a large entrance hall greeted them, corridors stretching out to each side, and two arcing staircases leading up from either side of the room to the floors above.

Carson shut the doors behind them, before continuing to one side. “Please, follow me.”

He led them down the corridor to the left, and into another large room. Chairs dominated the decor, positioned in two large arcs around a number of smaller tables. Huge paintings of men, clad in rare silks and laden with jewellery, covered the walls, and overhead hung a glittering chandelier.

“I will inform Master Duras of your visit, please make yourselves comfortable.” Carson said, before bowing and retreating from the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Jessabelle immediately dropped herself into one of the cushioned chairs, settling herself deep into its soft embrace.

Oh, the glory of sitting on something that wasn’t wood.

Lord Reud, however, strode straight past her to inspect the paintings. “So, this Zovran, what can you tell me about him?” He asked without turning his head.

Jessabelle sat herself back upright. “He’s an old friend of my fathers, a merchant dealing in luxury goods for the nobility. He’s also a Viscount himself, a title that’s been in his family for generations.”

“Hmm… What did you say his surname was again?”

“Duras. Why, my lord?”

“Nothing really, just an idle thought.” Lord Reud walked over to another painting, stroking his chin.

The door opening stopped any further questions. Jessabelle turned around to find Zovran standing in the doorway, a wide smile on his face. Since she’d last seen him, he’d aged, his black hair now thin and streaked with grey. More wrinkles had found his face, especially under his eyes, emphasizing the black bags that spoke to long sleepless nights. He’d also gained some more padding around the waist, giving him the portly look she’d always known he was heading towards.

Throwing his arms wide, he walked towards her, his booming voice filling the room. “Jess! It’s been far too long.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Jessabelle stood and walked over to wrap him in a hug in return. “Zovran, it’s so good to see you again.”

Zovran released her and stepped back. “Quite the young woman you’ve grown into now.” Sadness replaced the smile on his face. “I’m so sorry to hear about what happened to your father. The flux is truly a curse from Vistol.”

Jessabelle bowed her head. “Thank you, he would have been grateful for your words.”

“Now, where are my manners? Jess, you must introduce me to your companion.”

Mentally kicking herself, she turned to Lord Reud. The correct etiquette should have been to introduce him immediately to properly establish their respective positions. She’d never been good at the intricacies of interacting with nobles, despite all her father’s attempts to teach her. Though at fourteen, what girl was? She just had to hope that Lord Reud wouldn’t take the slight personally.

“May I introduce Lord Reud.” She said. “He has… we have a business proposition for you.”

“Lord Reud?” Zovran asked, raising an eyebrow. “So, this is the rumoured man?”

“R-Rumoured man?” Jessabelle stammered, her heart immediately pounding. Had word of what happened in Littlestream arrived in Avonford already?

“Well, your husband of course!” Zovran said with a smile. “I’d heard you’d settled down with someone, but I had no idea it was a lord. Well done, Jess.”

“Settled down? Husband?” The conversation was really running far off the script she’d been rehearsing to herself. “No, I think you’ve been misled. I’m not married to anyone, and certainly not to Lord Reud.” She said, a slight flush colouring her cheeks.

Zovran frowned. “But your brothers said-”

“Those snake tongued creeps!” The words burst from Jessabelle’s mouth before she could stop them. “Don’t believe a word from their mouths.”

“Wha… You’d best explain.” Zovran said, looking surprised.

Jessabelle took a deep breath to steady herself. “Those two took off the day my father died, not even waiting for the funeral, taking the entire business with them. I was left with nothing. Where are they now, have you seen them?”

“They arrived in Avonford years ago, flush with funds.” Zovran said. “In memory of your father, I put them in contact with some families in need of financial aid. They’re both married now, and in line to become Barons in the future.”

“I was scraping by, and they were living the high life…” Jessabelle stopped and took another deep breath. She was getting thoroughly off-topic here, she needed to focus.

Srinaber was depending on her.

“Let’s get back to why we’re here.” She said, her voice steady once more. “We have a business proposal.”

“In that case, please, sit.” Zovran gestured to the chairs, taking one for himself. Lord Reud took one on the opposite side of the table, so Jessabelle took one beside him.

“We’re looking for two things. The first is to buy food, the second is to establish a more permanent trade route.”

“In Littlestream?”

Jessabelle shook her head. “No, I’m not sure how much news has spread, but Littlestream is no more. It… burnt down.”

Zovran nodded. “I’d heard rumours, but nothing more.”

“The specifics aren’t important, but the survivors have set up a new settlement in the ruins at the mouth of the Seine, right by the sea. Srinaber, we call it. As a result, we need everything that a new village would need, from cloth to metal to dyes to herbs. But most importantly, food.”

Zovran looked sceptical, his brow furrowing in a way that Jessabelle remembered would be quickly followed by a rejection. A look she’d seen many times when asking for another sweetroll as a girl.

Before those words could come out his mouth, Jessabelle continued. “Zovran, I wouldn’t come here unless I thought it would be worth your while. We have a variety of unique goods to offer, and the funds to buy anything you don’t want to trade for.”

She turned on the full force of her smile, hoping it would have the same dazzling effect on him that it had on the other men she traded with. “You know me, I would never cheat you.”

Zovran stared back at her, his frown slowly replaced with a smile. Then, a rumbling laughter burst from his mouth. “Some of my biggest losses came when your father said those exact same words to me, and with that exact same smile on his face.”

Jessabelle opened her mouth to protest, but Zovran slapped a hand down on the armrest of his chair. “Some of my biggest fortunes, too. Your father really had a nose for such things, it’s good to see that the old talent hasn’t died out. Your brothers just don’t have the spark.”

“Thank you, Zovran. You won’t regret this.”

“Hold on there, I’m not done yet. As you know, I trade in luxuries, I don’t do food or raw materials. To get those moved, I’m going to need to put out feelers, connect with other merchants. And that’s going to take time.”

Lord Reud sat forward. “How much time?”

Zovran scratched at his chin. “A few weeks, maybe. Up to a month.”

“We need the food fastest, can we expedite that over the others?”

Zovran shrugged. “Well, possibly. But whenever you want to spend less time to do something, you instead have to spend more of something else.”

“And that would be?”

“Money. Speed costs.”

Lord Reud sat back. “Money can be arranged, if you can get the first shipments of food to arrive at Srinaber in the next few weeks.”

“I think we can come to some sort of arrangement.” Zovran said.

Lord Reud smiled and bowed his head in thanks. “Excellent, Jessabelle will work out the specifics with you on the morrow. The day grows late.”

Zovran held up his hands. “No, that won’t do! Please, accept my hospitality. It has been too long since I saw Jess, and it would be nice to have some company. This old place can get quite lonely.”

Lord Reud bowed his head again. “The offer is most generous, and we would be honoured to accept.”

Zovran lets out another booming laugh. “That’s the spirit! Now come, you must tell me everything about this new city of yours.”