I didn’t spend enough time here. I had my office in the town hall, and it was comfortable enough. People knew to find me there— most of my time was as scheduled as we could be without digital clocks, but there were always a few free moments to be found. It was… fine, I supposed. Politics wasn’t my thing, but my skills did make it easier. Being accessible was part of being a politician. I didn’t have an open door, exactly, but I could be reached, if I wasn’t busy, during office hours. I couldn’t spend all my time there, I had a business to run. Most of the Council members did, the Mayor was the only one who lived off of his salary.

Now, the rules at the bank were quite different from the ones at the town hall. For one thing, I didn’t meet with anybody who wasn’t going to make me a lot of money. Investors, depositors, clients looking for a loan, and that was it. Oh, there were a few personal exceptions that the staff knew to let through, but if you weren’t here for business, I didn’t want to see you.

Another thing was that my office here was quite a bit more luxurious than the town hall one. There, I was a servant of the people, selflessly foregoing luxuries so that the money might be spent better elsewhere. It was nonsense, but it worked. People trusted me the more for it.

At the bank, on the other hand, it was the other way around. I wouldn’t say people trusted private wealth, but they felt reassured by it when it came time to entrust their wealth to me. I’m not sure why, even though I’d felt it myself, back at the Company. The aura of wealth that the higher-ups had possessed was a powerful thing. It made you want to trust your money to them, when really what it should have told you was that these people are adept at separating wealth from their clients.

So my office was as luxurious as I could make it. Richly polished wood panelling, cut glass around light-stone lamps. They hadn’t invented deep shag wall-to-wall, but the rug on the floor was such a work of art, it felt wrong to put furniture on it. There were even some paintings on the wall. Phantasmal ones, a Monet and a Vermeer. They made for quite the talking points. Latora wasn’t quite ready for impressionism, though most people would agree that the picture of the bridge was quite beautiful.

The Vermeer confused them even more. I had to explain several times that it was an illusion of a painting, and not of a milkmaid.

Today, I didn’t have anyone to meet at the bank. I could relax in my leather-bound chair and go over final approvals for loans. [Territory Status] sometimes gave me useful insight into the finances of applicants, so it was worth going over them, even if my staff had done their jobs correctly.

Going over paperwork is more entertaining than you might expect, when you stand to gain considerably from each application. Still, I wasn’t upset when I was interrupted.

“Guys! Back from another dungeon trip?” I said, as my companions trooped in. I gave them a mock glare. “You’d better not be tracking dungeon guts on my good rug.”

It was a fake glare, not because they’d never gotten my rug dirty (they had), nor because the rug wasn’t expensive (it really was), but because [Water Magic] was pretty good at cleaning. There wasn’t a specific spell for it, but my control was pretty good now, and I could soak, scrub and dry an object without damaging it. Or a person, if they happened to be a misbehaving and particularly filthy orphan.

“You know it!” Felicia said, holding her hand up for a high five. Hanging out with me, she was picking up some Earth mannerisms here and there. I ignored the hand and gave her a hug, having already noted that they’d cleaned up before coming here.

“There weren’t any problems?” I asked, but she shook her head. They were actually a pretty good team now. Cloridan, Cutter, Janie, Maslin, Kyle and Felicia. Three fighters, two mages for distance and swarms, and a healer. Cutter had made level five, and Maslin was closing in on it quickly. His reduced share was more than made up for by the high Threat monsters the team was going up against.

“We’re going to catch up to you at this rate,” Felicia said. “How long before you come down with us again?”

“A little while yet,” I mumbled. “Things are starting to come together, but it’s still… fragile.”

It wasn’t that I’d given up adventuring, I still went down with my crew occasionally. I wasn’t really adding that much value though. Cloridan was a terror when he was invisible, of course, but Cutter became less effective, as he had to avoid actions that might put Cloridan in harm's way. When you added in that I took a greater share of experience, thanks to my higher level, I felt that I was holding them back when I joined them.

Felicia pouted. We’d gone over this before, and there wasn’t much point in rehashing it.

“Just get [Fire Magic] if you’re that hung up on contributing,” she said. “You’ve got the skill points now, right?”

“Hells, yeah!” Janie said. “Imagine the flames, with three of us burning everything in sight!”

“I don’t know that I’d be contributing anything at that point,” I said wryly, “Just adding to the mayhem isn’t constructive.”

More than that though, I didn’t want to burn people to death. It was bad enough cutting up monsters for parts, but I’d made my peace with it. I could appreciate the efficiency of Janie’s methods without wanting to emulate her.

“No, if I pick up another magic, I’ll look for something like Shadow or Air,” I said. “Flying or teleportation, I can’t say no to that.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Janie scoffed, but she knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere with this argument.

“Anyway,” she said. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Did you think it would take all of you to drag me to the dance hall?”

“Nah, miss,” Cutter said. “We just wanted to see the fancy digs is all.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, let's get going, wouldn’t want to be late to Isabel’s first performance.”

There was quite a crowd outside the entrance to the dance hall. Part of me felt bemused at that, but I knew better. This world just didn’t have the entertainment options that mine did. No movies, few books, and barely any music. You could call dungeons adventure playgrounds, but only if you had a very lax attitude to safety standards.

There were plays, in the cities, but very few travelling entertainers. Bard was not a well-regarded profession, as it provided little experience. A [Bard] got most of their XP from the monsters they slew on the road, which wasn’t a great advertisement for the profession.

Bringing Isabel here had been as much accident as planning. I’d needed someone to take care of the orphans I’d saddled myself with, and she needed to get out of Dorsay before she had to choose between starvation and prostitution. Setting her up in Talnier had been a risk, but it was one that the Bank of Talnier could afford to take.

I noted with approval that the children were managing the door. Child labour laws were a long way away, you worked to live. Not all of them had [Calculate], but enough did to handle counting the money and giving change.

I flicked up my interface to check and was pleased to note that the income of [Isabel’s Dance Company] was finally ticking up. Not a bad start, but we’d have to see if our projections held up.

Felicia nudged me as we got to the head of the line. “Don’t get lost in the finances,” she warned. “We’re here to see the dance.”

I shrugged and ignored the way that the kids straightened up as I became visible, with whispers of “The Headmistress,” getting passed around. I wasn’t sure why I rated all that reverence. I may have been responsible for keeping them fed and warm, but the only classes that had been run since they got here were Isabel’s.

That would change just as soon as I could get the second Tower of Learning up and running again. I gave a slight smile at the thought, which no doubt started a few rumours about the kids. I let it go, and let myself get escorted to our table. The show was about to begin.

The applause was loud and sustained, which boded well. A packed house on the first night could be explained by simple novelty, the applause suggested the crowds would be coming back. Isabel had done well.

She had carried the show. Her apprentices had [Dance], but skill level counted. They did pretty well as a support, though, and they would improve with time.

I held off on analysing the night’s take, as our table was being approached by one of the performers. Not one of the kids, but the [Bard] that Isabel had hired to accompany them. She’d worked herself up into a tizzy to ask for the budget for him, but our conversation had amounted to “Well, of course, you need music to dance to,” and her preparations had been wasted.

This was my first time meeting him. He’d been busy with rehearsals, and I’d been… busy. I only knew who he was because I’d seen him on stage. He was about forty, handsome enough in a kind of disreputable way. He bowed as he approached.

“Madame Councillor, If I might present myself. I am Stephen Durr, a humble [Bard]. I hope that our modest melodies have entertained you.”

I refrained from snorting or rolling my eyes, but I’d seen what we were paying for those so-called “humble” melodies.

“It was quite the show,” I told him truthfully. “You were very accomplished.” I refrained from mentioning that I planned on having them perform with recordings once I could get an enchanted music box built. It seemed to me that it would be easier to dance to a recording that never changed. Plus, it would be a recording of Taylor Swift, so better all around.

“I’m so pleased you approve,” he smarmed, bowing again. I winced, but only to myself. This was probably the start of an extended period of sucking up to the rich patron, which I wasn’t looking forward to. At least, at his age, he wasn’t going to try and sleep with me… I hoped.

“I was asked to pass on my regards,” he continued, which deviated from the script a bit. “A colleague of mine, and an acquaintance of yours,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow. “A colleague?” I asked. The only one I could think of was…

“Aesrideu,” he confirmed. “He spoke fondly of you, and asked me to pass on a missive.”

He held out a letter, which I did not immediately take, frowning suspiciously at it.

“Last I heard, Aesrideu was making good money Can’t he afford to pay for a [Courier]?”

Durr shrugged. “He heard I was being hired by you, and took the opportunity to write a note.”

“You’ve been in town a while,” I noted. “Couldn’t you have gotten it to me sooner than this?”

“It’s a favour for a friend,” he explained. “When I took it, he asked that I give it to you directly. Both your council office and your place of business were quite willing to pass on a letter, but they declined to let me meet you.”

He gave me a dazzling smile. “I wanted to fulfil the promise to my friend, but I also wanted to see if you were as beautiful as he said.”

This time I did roll my eyes. “Well, I hope that I don’t disappoint,” I said, plucking the envelope out of his hand.”

“Your beauty exceeds even his fulsome description,” he assured me.

He was going to try and sleep with me. “Well, thank you for the letter,” I said. “As you can see, I’m with some friends at the moment… and I’ve already got a rogue in this party.”

“Thank you for this small moment of your attention. I will remain in your service,” he said. He bowed again and then backed away.

“He was a bit old, but he seemed nice?” Felicia said, grinning.

I scowled at her. “Better than the envoy of a psychotic ice mage or the man who wants to betray this small town’s democratic process,” I agreed.

Felicia giggled, and Janie laughed out loud.

“When you put it like that, they sound pretty bad,” Felicia admitted. “They are handsome though.”

“No need for those blackguards,” Cloridan put in, “When you have the perfect companion right under your nose.”

I gave him a sceptical look. “Aren’t you still seeing Alica? Or was it Belitere, the cat girl?”

He coughed. “Belitere was simply a passing fancy,” he said with an embarrassed look. “And Alicia… found out about Belitere.”

There were some jeers and boos around the table, but Kyle called a halt to it. “Not that Cloridan doesn’t deserve it,” he said, “But who is… Esridoo and why does he have a weird name?”

“Aesrideu,” I told him. “He’s an Elven [Bard] that I met in Anchorbury.”

“An elf?” Felicia said.

“You picked his brains, as I recall, instead of his pants, like half the noble ladies of Anchorbury,” Janie said with a smile.

“Was he… pretty?” Felicia asked. Janie laughed.

“Hard to tell with all the ladies in the way,” she said.

“But why is he sending you a letter?” Kyle asked, cutting through the nonsense.

“I dunno,” I said. “I guess there's one way to find out.”