Things were going well. Ivaylo had no doubt.
As so often before, his instincts had proven true. Betting on the youngling of this fractured princedom had been the right choice, as he had known it would be.
Others of course had the same idea, but most of them either did not have the stomach or the coin to go through.
Poor little things, so close on mind and yet so far on means.
Some even called him reckless for staking coin on untested blood, among them his eldest son when he had discovered the terms for the lease.
Damn fool, with a pumpkin for a head.
But Ivaylo's nose for profit had never led him astray.
His father had built their merchant house on stubborn labor and luck, but it was Ivaylo who had transformed it into an empire. He was the one who saw opportunity where others saw ruin, who smelled silver where others only scented ash.
