The firelight painted Elara's face in golden hues, her smile graceful and distant as she fielded the drunken flirtations of a man leaning far too close. His breath reeked of cheap mead, and his hand had started to inch toward her arm like he thought his swagger alone was charming enough to excuse it.
"Elven beauty like you shouldn't be stuck talkin' with dusty merchants," the man slurred, swaying slightly. "Bet you've never been with a real man."
Elara's polite smile tightened. She was clearly trying not to make a scene, but I'd seen enough.
I stepped in smoothly, placing a firm hand on the man's shoulder. "You're not wrong," I said, voice low and steady. "She hasn't been with a 'real man.' Because she has standards."
He turned, half-confused, half-offended, and blinked at the sight of me standing between them. His eyes fell to the ring on my finger, and something behind them flickered recognition or instinct. It didn't matter.
"I think it's time you found a new table," I continued, calm but unflinching.
For a moment, he looked like he might test his luck... but Gareth stood too, arms crossed and looming with the kind of silent authority that tends to sober fools.
With a muttered curse and an embarrassed glance at Elara, the man slunk off toward the bar.
Elara let out a slow breath, her smile, this time more genuine. "I could've handled that."
"I know," I replied, settling back into my seat beside her. "But I couldn't let him think for even a second that you were alone."
Gareth grunted with approval and poured another round. "To timing," he said, raising his glass.
Elara clinked hers to mine, her voice soft. "And to those who know when to step in."
The mood eased again, but there was an edge in the air now. We all felt it.
Elara leaned in, her voice a quiet hum under the low tavern din. "That's twice now. You've stepped in for me, Sanjuro. Are you planning on making a habit of it?"
I gave her a sidelong smile and swirled the dwarven firewater in my glass. "Maybe. If I keep having to rescue you from drunkards and dockside brutes, I might have to start charging."
She chuckled, then took a sip, eyes still on me. "And what would you charge a noble-born elf like me?"
"More than gold," I said, meeting her gaze. "Much more."
Gareth coughed pointedly into his drink, breaking the moment. "Alright, lovebirds, before I drown in sugar, let's talk real business."
Elara, cheeks faintly flushed, leaned back slightly. "Yes. The next shipment. I've spoken with my contact. If we can guarantee a secure route through the the fork, I can double the supply by month's end."
"Isn't that trade route D13?" Sanjuro flicked the ash off his cigar.
"Yes, it is that route but they wouldn't stop us. We have the required permits." Elara explained.
"Thanks to my political efforts." Sanjuro added.
"That's good," I said, tapping the table with two fingers. "Because we'll need it. I've already put in word for a new warehouse on the south edge of the city. Discreet, defensible. The kind of place no customs officer likes walking into unless he's paid to."
Gareth nodded slowly. "You plan ahead. I like that."
Elara nodded approvingly. "It'll preserve the mystique. Rarity means control."
"And control," I added, "means margin."
Gareth leaned back and looked at us both. "So... who's the second buyer?"
"Elran Dorell," I said. "Of House Dorell. Old money. He wants something private for his salons. I've arranged a sampler, and he's willing to pay upfront."
Gareth let out a low whistle. "You don't play small."
"Neither do you," I replied. "That's why we're partners."
Before Gareth could speak again, the inn's door burst open with a gust of wind and a flurry of soot-covered snow. A cloaked figure stepped inside, scanning the room.
"Elara," the figure called out, voice strained. "Message from our smugglers 'we can move the product tonight, too many Larion inspectors."
Her expression changed instantly, serious, sharp.
She downs the rest of her drink.
The game, it seemed, was shifting again.
"I'm staying here tonight." Sanjuro got up from his chair. "You are too, Gareth. We have more business in a less reputable area of Burnbillows tomorrow."
"I uh.. oh, right." Gareth nods in agreement.
"I'll be back tomorrow, boys it was pleasant." Elara sets down her cup and turns to leave.
Sanjuro chuckled and looked at both Gareth and Elara. "Tomorrow night, we will set up a second warehouse." They both gave a nod in response.
"It's settled then, I bid you both good night." Gareth put out his cigar and went upstairs.
I did the same.
"Remember, Gareth, we have another meeting tomorrow evening." Sanjuro whispered through Gareth's door.
