“Absolutely not!”

It was my father’s suggestion, but I shouted my response toward the Baron. My mother’s smile hinted out from the corner of my eye. She could tell my response heavily relied on [Acting]. More than one of her Skills focused on social manipulation, which was so much easier when you could detect someone’s intent. She could tell I was up to something, and she was always willing to help along a bit of mischief. The outlier though, was my father. He was generally like a mountain -silent, stoic, unchanging, and then crashing down like a landslide. For him to rouse himself to suggest apprenticeship, that was the equivalent of me shouting against the marriage idea.

The Baron’s lips pursed, his beard and mustache failing to hide the grumble that he quickly smothered with another drink. I could see the thoughts rumbling through his head as he considered his needs as a Baron versus his wants as a father. My stoic refusal, courtesy of [Acting], was the last straw. The moment he decided that he would have his way despite my preference was the moment the hook was set.

I didn’t want an apprentice, and the woman seemed like a terrible candidate. Which is what made this deal different than the first I entered into with the Baron. With the first deal, I was scrambling for support, and we both gained from the agreement. I made money, won the Baron’s open protection, and got to practice my craft openly - something that had become unimaginable within the kingdom. All for the low price of having to deal with the nobility, and that was already an occupational hazard. This time, the Baron instead was trying to gain a tie to a resource at my expense, a far different prospect.

Somewhere in the years since my parents became friends with the Baron, he changed. He was raised into the aristocracy, but along the line, he bought into the mindset and started to accept the idea of manipulating people and moving them on the game board of life. To some extent, that was the way nobility worked, it was even necessary, but he started to take it seriously. That brought with it a sense of superiority, and I was about to make him pay for it. He was still my parent’s friend, and he was still my employer, so that would temper my response, but there would be a lesson and a cost for his heavy-handed behavior.

I might also have been slightly annoyed with the Baron for his recent behavior.

While I was deep in thought and working to hold the rejection in my body language and face, the Baron had come to his plan of action.

“A hundred gold to take her as an apprentice,” the Baron said, his voice implied that such was a burden but something he was willing to do. It was a specific sound of exasperation in his tone that showed his meaning. The Baron might have [Acting] as well, but I doubted it. I thought that it was just a well-honed sense of his own self -arrogance, in other words.

“Are you insane, My Lord? Maybe for your first offer, I might have considered it, but not for a hundred gold! Look at her, she sits there and acts like she is a sheep to be sheered. We talk about her like a prized bit of meat, and she shivers, but I can see the anger. I would be risking my life with her as my apprentice,” I said while gesturing to the small woman.

My words only had her glaring all the harder.

The Baron caught the venomous look and seemed to accept that I would be signing up for more than an apprentice. Still, my rejection based on price also drew his attention. It implied I was not against the action because it was wrong, but that I could be bought. Somewhere along the line, he forgot that I was the son of Jezzabella. It was taking every ounce of control I had not to bring her to the Baron’s attention. I had turned to face further away from her, but I could almost feel her manic grin like the heat from a bonfire.

“Well, I can see she would be a problem. But, I’m certain you can handle her. You would be teaching her valuable Skills, and with my protection, she will be able to live almost free! She will quickly learn her place,” the Baron said.

At this, I could feel Snowy shift next to me. I was afraid that Snowy would enter the fray at her father’s words. The thought of a woman being controlled and manipulated struck too close for her to bear. But, at the gentle force of my foot on her own, she calmed. I could see her muscles tense in agitation, the sight a bit distracting, but she soon calmed despite her misgivings at my words.

To the Baron’s credit, he didn’t say her place was serving him. He honestly thought she would be best served by an apprenticeship as well. It was condescending, but in the same vein as that of a parent to child. Even so, I would make sure that it would cost him.

“Still, say, five hundred gold, burghership, and possession of that mining town - held in trust - and a promissory of it to your descendants?”

Which was roughly half of what was offered before for a dowery. Money, yet another connection between him and me, and a place to set down roots. No offer of knighthood - which made sense - he only had so many offers he could provide as a Baron. The King was ultimately the arbiter of acceptance to knighthood despite the way those with the Right of Suggestion might act, but the burghership was a more enticing offer. I owned my shop and the house in town, but I did not own the land they sat upon. In truth, the Baron could have me evicted at any time since he technically held all of the lands in the town. With burghership, I would not just be in charge of the town, I would own it outright. Compared to holding just the mine from his previous offer. Far less upfront value, but far more monetary value over time. One could almost look at it as a dowery of a different kind.

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

The Baron was likely hoping that proximity would breed feelings. That, or he was trusting in the woman’s greed. Given the disgusted look on her face, I thought he was counting far too much on something developing.

Staring at the Baron, never letting my eyes drift away, I gently pressed down again on Snowy’s foot before responding.

“You will provide your protection, and I would provide her an apprenticeship, yes? Standard Skill Trainer apprenticeship rules and training? I won’t have you interfering with my business or agreements. I will train her as I wish. Agreed?” I asked while frowning at the Baron.

“Agreed!” the Baron said while smiling widely at his conquest, and then he swigged the rest of his tankard in celebration.

Turning to my new apprentice, I smiled, the look failing to convince her of anything.

“Now, apprentice. Allow me to provide the first lesson that every Skill Trainer must learn. Why we handle deals as we do and why it is important,” I said, my grin widening and now matching my mother’s manic grin. Even my father’s stone face cracked, the teeth showing between his normally closed lips.

“Standard Skill Trainer apprenticeship,” I said while emphasizing the words as hard as I could, my gaze shifting to meet the Baron’s, “is six years long.”

Turning back to Abigail, I continued, “During the first year, you may leave my apprenticeship with no penalties and with no hard feelings. Simply tell me you are done and leave at any time. After the first year, you will be taught some basic secrets to contact the Guild and how to retrieve and deposit resources and information with them. As long as you keep those secrets, you may leave in those five years without penalty.”

Leaning forward, I tapped the table at each point, trying to drive home the Baron’s mistake, “At no time will you sign a magical contract with the Guild. At no time will your Master require you to sign a magical contract. With our apprentices and fellow Skill Trainers, we work on a system of honor. You either want to be a Skill Trainer, or you don’t. We won’t force you.”

“For the same reason, if I think you are failing to learn or not taking the training seriously or if I think you can’t be trusted, I will excuse you. Be careful here. The Skill Trainers are disgusted with the Guild system, and we built our Guild in opposition to it. We do not accept the claim that you fulfilled the letter but not the spirit of the rules. Cross us, and you will die. Honor your agreements.”

Despite the threat being directed at Abigail in the end, the Baron heard the subtext. I had essentially told him that she could quit at any time and that he had no real hold on her except through me and his protection. Also that he would be held accountable if he failed in his agreements. Given the number of assassins who came to become Skill Trainers later in life, the Guild could handle any dispute in a final form if necessary.

By the nasty smile on Abigail’s face, I think she found this news delicious. She had not been amused by the Baron’s presumption of knowing her place, and she enjoyed the sweet taste of his mistake.

“When we work with others, we require proof of their trustworthiness since we have been burned so often before. With Skill Trainers, you will find an open and honest discussion of Skills, with others, secrecy and lies. So we require proof and often, contracts. There are other technical reasons which reinforce this, but that is the basis of our behavior, and I expect you to respect it.”

That line did not go over as well with the young woman. Being her Master would likely involve proving myself to her before she would accept my direction, but that would be fine. As long as she didn’t act against me, things would work.

“Next, apprentices have a long history of coming from another Master. Rejecting the Guild system and joining the Skill Trainers has a long tradition. Students often wish to become Skill Trainers and refuse to be beholden to some other Guild, despite whatever rigged contract or agreement that might have come before. What few apprentices we take are protected. As such, the Standard Skill Trainer apprenticeship,” again, the emphasis on how this was the standard while I stared at the Baron, “is that you can refuse any client. No client can demand your assistance. I cannot require you to work with any specific client. I will require you to learn a teaching Skill of some kind as well as certain techniques, but I can’t require you to practice with a specific client. If it comes to it, I may even be required to offer an exchange with a different Master to ensure your education.”

Oh, the look on the Baron’s face. With that, I just confirmed that the carefully constructed deal where he gained control of, and access to, Abigail and her poison was now virtually void. He would be required to provide her protection, but the tacit control and access were gone. She only had to tell me that she would refuse the Baron, and I would be required to hold to this.

“Now, Abigail, was it?”

“Abby,” she correct, her voice coming out with more steel than I expected.

“Second lesson,” I said, then stood and leaned over to grab her chair leg. At first, she startled at my sudden closeness and reach, showing that she was expecting violence. Though she quickly calmed when it was clear that I was just moving her. Though she did give both Snowy and me a look of confusion when I turned her chair toward the Baron, the three of us sitting across from his sour face.

“Second lesson,” I repeated before turning to face the Baron again, “is negotiation. The Baron here wants access to one of your rare Skills. It’s valuable, and you are likely the only one who has it. In this situation, you hold the cards. For friends, you might help for a song, but for a client who wants a deal, you gouge hard,” I said to the laughter of my mother and the deep rumbling chuckle of my father.

From the considering look Snowy gave me, I thought that she was rethinking some of the lessons her father wanted her to learn.