She sat still. There was, as usual, much to think about.


    Above everything else, her purpose was to think. For all people like the mayor spoke of having more work than hours in the day, she could only offer them a small smile, not a problem she had.


    It was quite simple, really. Her first priority was always to reduce work down to core principles that she could then delegate. Once that was done, regardless of how vast the work was, her involvement was limited to setting the guidelines, choosing suitable candidates, and reviewing reports.


    Of course, for particularly large works, it may well have been that she hired someone whose work was to do those tasks—such as the mayor.


    Unfortunately, he disliked to follow her example; he was very much the type to be uneasy if he lacked work to do. She had long guessed that to be a mark left behind by his childhood in the Church.


    Regardless, his approach to work was not an issue for her. After all, she did not care who made the reports, only that they were accurate. If there were problems with the work reflected in the reports, she could then adjust. It would then be on someone else to implement the adjustment to her specifications.


    Thus, her work consisted of reading and, perhaps, some writing. Both were tasks she could perform with alacrity and further delegate for less critical works.


    So she had ample time to devote to her purpose. She considered how to better organise her work, allowing her even greater time to think. She considered her overarching goals, how her current plans contributed to them, and what new plans could be begun in the current environment, both inside and outside her fief. She read books from ancient times and considered what applications those novelties of war, society, and philosophy might have in these current times.


    If nothing else, she truly was devoted to her purpose.


    “My Lady, the guest has arrived.”


    She opened her eyes. “Very well,” she said, her hand gesturing to the side. “Do invite Sir Ludwig to join us.”


    “Of course, My Lady,” her butler said, giving a deep bow.


    Soon thereafter, her knight entered first from the side-room, followed shortly by a plump, older man from the room’s main entrance. This man had a perpetual scowl that his attempt at smiling only softened, brow wrinkled, yet clothes fine and smoothed, tailored so well as if to flaunt his weight.


    “Lady Augstadt, it is my honour to be invited to your residence. Why, when the letter arrived, I had to think some scoundrel sought to play a trick on me!” He paused there to chortle. “I had the wax seal neatly cut out and now it rests in the place of honour upon my mantelpiece.”


    After a polite chuckle, she gestured at the chair opposite her at the small dining table. “Master Ricker, while it is a noble gesture, I fear that sir may require use of his fireplace this coming winter.”


    He froze, his smile tightening up, then broke into another chortle, this one sounding emptier. “Ah, it is of course only a manner of speaking.”


    “Of course,” she said, her small smile polite, then she gestured the other one present. “May I introduce sir to Sir Ludwig.”


    Although her knight had been an impressive man before, the recent years had not left him idle. His height was now better matched by his muscle, a touch of wildness to his beard, with a peppering of grey too, and a worldliness to his tanned skin and early wrinkles.


    She found it rather amusing: his wife had spoken like a besotted maiden at their last meeting.


    Ricker, on the other hand, looked rather less infatuated by her knight’s appearance. “Ah, a pleasure to make sir’s acquaintance.”


    Her knight, following orders, merely gave an incline of his head in acknowledgement.


    “If sir would forgive him, that he may not speak freely when working,” she said.


    “Yes, yes, of course,” Ricker said, head bobbing. Still, he took a last glance at her knight before centring his gaze upon her. “So, My Lady, the letter spoke of… business?”


    Her hands came together, fingers entwined. “Master Ricker. How is the guild doing these days?” she asked.


    “How is it doing? Well, as well as ever,” he said, ending with a chuckle.


    She gave a smile, then let it melt away until not even a polite smile remained. A long second passed in stillness before she broke apart her hands and made three sharp taps upon the table with her nail.


    Instantly, the side-door opened and a maid with a trolley strode in, followed by a trail of other maids. Within seconds, a dozen trays were put out and the covers removed, plates and cutlery neatly presented, and even the fireplace was lit. While she remained sat, a pair of maids carefully removed her coat and placed her napkin.


    “Please, help yourself,” she said, gesturing at the spread. “It is an informal affair today, so let us not stand on ceremony.”


    His narrowed eyes lingered on her a moment longer, then his gaze slid over to the table, taking in the sight. “Ah, if My Lady insists.”


    It did not take long for his plate to be crowded with food, such that he had taken to balancing some pieces on top, while she simply arranged a few vegetables with a side of soup and bread. Her knight did not even have a plate, his hands as still as he was in his seat.


    After giving her guest some time to experience the delicacies, she dabbed at her mouth, then spoke. “Master Ricker, allow me to be frank.”


    He paused in his feast and took a moment to dab at his mouth too. “Pray do, My Lady, I am but a simple man,” he said lightly, followed by another chortle.


    “It is like this. The Nelli family are an important source of revenue, dutifully paying the tariffs and obeying the laws. In the few years I have personally handled these matters, there has been but a few accidents with breaking monopolies or quotas and, each time, they have gracefully paid the fines.”


    His gaze flickered between her and the food still on his plate. “Indeed, they are a most reputable family,” he said.


    A smile coloured her lips which held his attention. “I am not an unreasonable ruler, so I shall always at least listen if someone has something important to request. The Nelli family have a rather rational request. As merchants, they care about money and I do not fault them that. It is a rather risky business as, if they should fail, what skills have they to fall upon? I cannot imagine their delicate hands would handle sewing or spinning,” she said, ending with a laugh, her hand over her mouth.


    He chuckled. “Ah, yes, I suppose it is like that.”


    “So their request,” she said, her tone losing the lightness it had a moment prior. “I suppose to put it succinctly, they wish to know if the monopoly on cloth is negotiable.”


    All the humour left him in an instant. “My Lady, that is—”


    She held up a hand and, in case that was not enough, her knight cleared his throat. Ricker swallowed the rest of his words.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    “Pray do not think so poorly of me. They care about money and so it is natural for them to think everyone else does,” she said, pausing there to smile. “However, I am fair and so I shall consider things. Master Ricker, I ask again, how is business?”


    Hesitant, he couldn’t meet her gaze. “Ah, it is, well, good. Our members lead simple lives, but need not worry for food. Our customers are happy. I think we cannot ask for more than that,” he said.


    “Why not?”


    Her question hung in the air, stifling, until he finally met her gaze and found there was no polite smile there. “Pardon, My Lady?”


    “Why can the guild not ask for more than that?”


    His throat tight, he struggled to swallow. “I am afraid My Lady’s question… while I understand it, I cannot think of how to answer it,” he said, almost a whisper.


    “The Nelli family, as I said, are rational in their request. They wish to make money, so they wish to move goods which they may sell at a profit. Abroad, they may purchase fine cloth with foreign dyes, which could be sold on at a much higher price as the purchaser would be the well-to-do with plenty of money for beauty.


    “Master Ricker, do you follow that logic?”


    He picked at his cuffs as if neatening them. “Ah, I do follow it, but… the logic of merchants is a different thing. It doesn’t matter to them that, if they bring those rare fabrics here, then the price will go down for everyone, and the price here is what’s fair for our members and our customers.”


    She listened, nodding along. “Let us put that issue aside for the moment. I asked if you followed that logic as it pertains to how the Nelli family have become such a successful family. That is, they seek to make more money.”


    Pausing there, she reached out and picked up a glass of wine, then brought it to her lips for a sip.


    “Master Ricker, do you ever consider how the guild could make more money?”


    A chill ran down his back. “My Lady, the well-being of my members is always my top consideration. Money… is merely one aspect,” he said, ending with another attempt at a smile.


    Her hand gently swirled her glass, then she took another sip. “With all due respect, sir, money is everything to those of common birth.”


    She placed the glass down, her fingertips trailing up the glass to the rim.


    “What price would sir put on the charter?” she asked.


    Frozen, he sat there without so much as breathing for a good few seconds, only to then splutter back to life. “M-My Lady, I could not—”


    “You could. Does sir forget the Grand Bazaar?” she asked, her expression cold.


    “How could I forget it?” he asked.


    With a nonchalance about it, she tipped over her glass and the red wine spilled, meandering across the table, around the various platters, seeping into the pure-white silk.


    “Sir should know that the wealth I command is both immense and real. If I wish to purchase the charter, I shall. In such a case, rather than feign modesty, sir should convince me that it is a worthy purchase such that I would be willing to pay a higher price for it.”


    With a laziness to the movement, she turned her head to look straight at him and put on a lopsided smile.


    “Does sir understand?”


    Instinctively, he bowed his head, his hands clasped on his lap. “Yes, My Lady.”


    She let out a chuckle, deeper than her usual voice, with a touch of roughness to it. “I am glad sir is a competent listener. Those, I find, are the kind of people I like to keep around.”


    His breath came out shakily, hands clenching. Yet, when he looked up, he found her knight staring at him.


    “Sir, I shall be frank. The Nelli family are willing to provide a substantial amount of money to relax the guild’s monopoly. To put it into context, it is equivalent to a decade of your guild’s dues. On top of that, they would still be subject to tariffs, so I would further profit from the expansion of their business.”


    He glanced back at her knight, swallowing the objection that came to his lips. However, with a moment to compose himself, he said, “My Lady, these merchants—they only have their own interests in mind. If they offer you that much, it is only because they know they shall make more back. That is more money they are taking away from our city.”


    “Sir has a keen mind for business,” she said with a warmer smile; however, it soon faded. “Keen is not the same as correct, though.”


    “My Lady?”


    She held her hands out in an open gesture. “Does sir think that, if the amount of cloth on sale is doubled, that prices will halve?”


    “Well, if we are speaking loosely, then perhaps even worse than half. There is only so much cloth people would buy and, once they have done so, the merchants would have to lower their prices until even beggars could afford to buy the surplus,” he said, his voice slow and careful.


    “Sir is gravely mistaken. Loosely speaking, prices would settle around two-thirds or three-quarters of the original price. Given that there is twice as much to sell, that results in at least an extra half of the original revenue,” she said, no hesitation in her voice.


    For a moment, he stared at her with a lot to say and little courage, her knight still at the edge of his vision. “My Lady, I do not know what the Nelli family has told you, but I assure you that I have had a long career in the making and selling of cloth.”


    “Sir, if you think I would believe the Nelli family without verifying the truth, then I am insulted,” she said, her playful tone at odds with her cold expression. “What I speak of is the simple truth I have ascertained in managing Grosburg. The price of cloth is rather resilient, especially higher-quality goods. It is very much the case that people would like to have more clothes and a lower price encourages more purchases.”


    “Th-that may be, but my members would starve if the price fell by even a tenth,” he said, not daring to directly disagree.


    Her finger slid across the table, idly drawing a shape with what wine lingered. “Then let them starve.”


    “M-My Lady?” he asked, barely a whisper.


    “Oh, sir thinks it would be my fault? Pray do not dare to utter such treasonous words. I am more than capable of managing a business that does not rely on tariffs and monopolies to succeed,” she said, a humour to her tone.


    He did not laugh.


    “This is my proposition: the guild doubles production and I lift the monopolies. If the price settles as I predict, then the guild would make at least as much revenue as it currently does, while the Nelli family would still pay tariffs,” she said.


    “Double? My Lady, there is simply not enough hours in the day!”


    She lifted up her wine glass. A little left in it, she brought it to her lips and sipped those last few drops. “Sir, if I may ask, does the guild use spinning wheels?”


    His mouth thinned. “Ah, for cheaper cloth, yes, we do use yarn made by spinning wheels. For everything else, the yarn is simply not good enough.”


    “Not good enough…. Then, has sir attempted to make it good enough?” she asked.


    He stilled. “Pardon, My Lady?”


    “The guild surely has some spare funds that it could put towards hiring a capable man to experiment with producing a spinning wheel that makes better yarn,” she said.


    Silence followed and she did not further wait for an answer.


    “If sir thinks he is unable, then there is no need to fret. I am, after all, a reasonable ruler. The Nelli family promised me money, yet I am not like them who obsesses over it,” she said, her tone growing disinterested as she raised her glass, a maid coming to half-fill it once more.


    He seemed to deflate in his seat, letting out a sigh.


    “I am curious of one thing, though,” she said, pausing for a sip of wine. “How is it that the Nelli family may make a profit on cloth they have to carry over a mountain? One would think such a venture may only be profitable when it is goods that can only be made in one place. Venetian glass, for example.”


    Her words did not land lightly.


    “Master Ricker, what price would you put on the charter?”


    His hands trembled under the table.


    After a second, she stood up. “Well, I believe we have discussed this enough,” she said and turned to the side. “When Master Ricker has finished, please do ensure he leaves with the documents.”


    “Yes, My Lady,” her butler said, bowing deeply, a hand over his heart.


    Ricker’s mouth opened, yet no sound came out. So it was that silence accompanied her exit, her knight’s footsteps trailing behind, as she went through the side-door, a maid opening it for her and closing it after him.


    Once they were another room over, she came to a stop.


    “The poor thing, he looked on the verge of a heart attack,” her knight said lightly.


    “Alas, one time is already more than enough. I would hate to gain a… reputation,” she said, settling into a comfortable seat.


    He stood for a little longer, but joined her when a few maids entered with food. Although not as lavish of a spread, he had no complaints, his plate soon covered.


    “I do wonder if such a display was entirely necessary,” he idly said.


    A smile tugged at her lips. “Necessary, no. I may do as I wish with my land as guaranteed by the King. However, that I may do so does not mean I should.”


    Her hand gestured along as she spoke, but it felt empty until, in her pause, a maid brought her a steaming cup of tea.


    “Sir saw how lavish his life is, did sir not? He is a man who has grown fat off the work of others. Not content to simply be a guildmaster, he has expanded into landlording with ten-odd houses, which he requires members of the guild to rent at unfair rates. I am sure that, if given access to the guild’s accounts, more greed would become readily apparent.”


    Ludwig listened, yet what she said did not encourage his appetite. A small mercy that his time with her little army had instilled an ability to eat regardless of circumstances. “Did I misunderstand My Lady’s plans? I thought you intended to purchase the guild and keep him as guildmaster,” he said.


    “It is not good to meddle,” she said, voice softer. “I am already expecting a level of displeasure from the other guilds over this, so I would leave the guild as is. If I am to replace him with someone more suitable, it would need to come from inside the guild, preferably accompanied by some kind of disobedience.


    “My role in this is simply to provide the capital needed for the guild to expand. However, I do not trust him with charity. The situation with the Nelli family simply gives me the best leverage.”


    After finishing the food in his mouth, he nodded. “I do not blame My Lady.”


    The corner of her mouth rose, an amusement in her eyes.