Leon blinked against the morning light filtering through the window, his vision still hazy from sleep. The muffled sound of voices outside sharpened — raised, tense, unmistakably an argument.
Leon stepped outside, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, only to freeze at the sight before him. The small compound was overflowing with people — merchants in fine vests, innkeepers with aprons still dusted in flour, and traders clutching coin pouches and ledgers. The air was thick with chatter, the clink of metal, and the restless shuffle of boots on packed earth.
He recognized several familiar faces in the crowd — Master Harn among them, standing squarely in the middle and gesturing animatedly as two merchants argued over something.
"I told you, he's the one who made them!" Harn barked, his booming voice cutting through the noise just as his eyes landed on Leon at the doorway.
A ripple of silence spread across the yard, followed by a surge of chatter as everyone turned toward him. The air buzzed with excitement, curiosity, and the faint scent of wax and smoke.
Leon froze for a moment, taking it all in. He had expected interest, maybe a few orders — not this chaos. The small compound was packed shoulder to shoulder, merchants jostling for space as Melina, Nicole, and Sandra did their best to keep things organized. Even so, there was hardly any room left; latecomers clustered outside the gate, craning their necks to get a glimpse.
And beyond them, Leon could already spot more caravans approaching from down the road — a line of wagons and traders drawn by rumor and opportunity. His plan had worked — perhaps too well.
For a heartbeat, Leon simply stood there, the morning sun glinting off the coins and brass buckles of the impatient crowd. Then he exhaled slowly, straightened his tunic, and stepped forward.
"All right," he said, loud enough for his voice to carry. "First I would like to thank you all for coming."
The crowd quieted a little, the clamor of voices fading into a low murmur. Dozens of eyes turned toward him — curious, impatient, expectant.
Leon raised his hands slightly, his tone calm but steady. "I didn't think the candles would spread this fast," he admitted, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "But there is a problem I am not able to supply to all of you at once."
A ripple of murmurs ran through the crowd — some groans, some worried frowns, and a few sharp whispers of frustration. Master Harn crossed his arms, watching Leon closely, while the merchants leaned in, trying to catch every word.
Leon waited until the noise died down before continuing, his voice firm but composed. "I only have a small batch ready. But…" — he paused, letting the anticipation build — "I can take orders. Those who want large quantities will need to wait a few days while we make more."
A stout merchant near the front raised his hand. "How many do you have now?"
"About six hundred," Leon said.
That sparked another wave of chatter. Several merchants immediately began calling out bids, offering extra silver to be served first.
"I appreciate your enthusiasm but that batch is for the people we gave samples to yesterday," he said.
The protests came almost instantly.
"What? That's not fair!" one merchant shouted.
"We're willing to pay double!" another barked, clutching his purse.
Leon raised a hand, quieting them with a calm but commanding tone. "I understand your frustration, but I gave my word. The first batch is meant to test reliability — I can't break that trust."
A murmur rippled through the crowd again, softer this time — a mix of respect and impatience. Even Master Harn gave a faint approving nod.
Leon continued, "However, I'll begin taking orders today. I'll start fulfilling larger requests immediately after. If you place your order now, you'll be among the first in line."
That seemed to settle the crowd. The air shifted from anger to calculation as merchants began whispering to their assistants, scribbling numbers onto slips of parchment.
"Orders will be a uniform of twelve hundred pieces and you must pay half the price now." Leon added as he wanted to reduce the number for easy production.
A hush fell over the crowd as Leon's words sank in. Twelve hundred candles per order — a substantial sum for anyone, even seasoned merchants — and half the payment up front. Some blinked in surprise, others quickly reached for their coin pouches, calculating if they could manage the cost.
One stout innkeeper stepped forward, frowning as he counted coins on the spot. "Half now… that's a lot, but I know it'll be worth it," he muttered, sliding a pouch across toward Leon.
"Exactly," Leon said, his tone firm but encouraging. "This ensures everyone's serious, and it helps me prepare without risk of shortage. You'll have the rest when the candles are delivered."
Master Harn chuckled, shaking his head. "Smart boy. You've turned curiosity into commitment. Now that's business."
The crowd slowly settled into order. Merchants whispered urgently to one another, some reluctant, some eager, but one by one, orders began to be placed, coins exchanged, and receipts noted. Leon kept a careful tally, his mind already running through production schedules and material requirements.
At the sidelines, the women watched in quiet awe. Melina and Sandra exchanged impressed glances, while Nicole, who had often worried over Leon, let out a deep, relieved breath. A warm smile spread across her face as she watched her son skillfully negotiate with seasoned traders. Pride and happiness shone in her eyes — Leon was no longer just her child; he was a young man shaping his own path.
By mid-morning, the chaos had transformed into organized lines of traders, each waiting for their turn, and Leon finally allowed himself a brief, satisfied smile. His plan had worked beyond expectation — and now the real work of fulfilling the orders lay ahead.
Finally the only people left were the town traders who he had given the samples to, without even waiting for calculation they handed him the money while Melina, Nicole, and Sandra moved efficiently beside him, counting candles, double-checking each order, and stacking them neatly as they went.
"Before you go I will like to thank all of you," Leon said, his tone full of sincerity. "To show my appreciation, how about you come and celebrate with us today?"
The traders exchanged surprised glances, some chuckling, others nodding eagerly. "Celebrate?" one asked, his voice rough but warm. "With food and drink after a morning like this? I wouldn't miss it."
"Sounds like a fine idea," another added, setting his coin pouch aside. "A proper feast for proper business."
Leon smiled, feeling a warmth beyond the coins in his pouch. "Good. Then we'll start after the midday meal. Bring your families if you like — the more, the merrier."
Melina, Nicole, and Sandra glanced at each other with soft smiles, impressed by how effortlessly Leon had turned a chaotic morning into something organized, profitable, and now even festive.
As the last traders waved their goodbyes and promised to return for the next batch, Leon leaned back slightly, taking in the quiet that had settled over the yard. For a moment, he allowed himself to savor the satisfaction of a plan that had not only worked — it had exceeded all expectations.
The four of them stepped inside, each carrying heavy pouches that seemed to vibrate with the weight of coins. Leon set them carefully on the wooden table, the faint jingle echoing in the small room like a herald of success.
The women, joined by Clara, Elise, and Kara, quickly set about preparing for a feast, their chatter and laughter filling the space as they unpacked bread, roasted meats, and fresh vegetables.
Leon carefully stacked the coins, separating copper from silver and running the numbers in his head as he went. Thirty silvers from the first six hundred candles alone — more than he had expected for such a small batch. Then came the bulk orders: twelve hundred candles per merchant, each at five coppers, with half the payment already collected upfront. By his rough calculation, that added more than fifteen silvers per order, and there were several merchants who had committed.
Leon paused for a moment, letting the magnitude of the sum sink in. Three hundred silver coins — roughly thirty gold pieces — lay neatly stacked before him, a tangible measure of a single morning's work.
Even after reserving enough for wax, wicks, molds, and a few small expenses for helpers, a comfortable fortune remained, enough to expand production and secure future orders without worry. For a moment, he allowed himself to simply enjoy the quiet victory, the soft jingling of coins marking the tangible results of his efforts.
After a few moments of quiet triumph over the coins, Leon finally rose from the table, brushing off his hands. The aroma of food — fresh bread, roasted meat, and sweet pastries — drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the chatter and laughter of the women as they worked.
He stepped in, and the women turned toward him, smiles lighting their faces. Clara and Elise waved him over, while Melina, Nicole, and Sandra set plates and mugs on the table, their eyes sparkling with pride and excitement.
STAY TUNED FOR NEXT CHAPTER R-18
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