The lobby of Brightwell Trading House was quiet and cool, a stark contrast to the crowded bustle of Sale's streets outside. Marble floors gleamed beneath the soft glow of hanging crystal lamps. Brass fixtures glinted in the corners, and the faint aroma of polished wood and spiced tea floated through the air. A waterfall-style fountain burbled softly against one wall, its gentle splash muffling distant voices.
We had been waiting for several minutes when a door opened and a young man in a perfectly tailored suit emerged. He looked no older than me, yet there was something about him, an air of quiet command, the way his eyes measured everything without expression, that spoke of someone who had been negotiating deals far longer than his years.
His gaze passed over both of us. Unlike the hotel receptionist who'd made her disapproval clear, this man gave nothing away.
"Lady Lira," he said, voice even and polite, "a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for coming so soon after receiving my message. Any longer and I was in danger of violating part of our agreement regarding Mae's treatment."
Lira dropped her head into her hands and looked down at the floor, exhaling sharply. "That damned midget. How much is the damage this time?"
"Let us discuss this in private," the young man replied smoothly. "I will have some refreshments brought, and we can discuss the particulars without interruption."
He gestured for us to follow, leading us down a hall lined with framed ledgers and guild certificates. We entered a small, discreet room where two plush sofas faced each other across a low ebony table. Lira and I sat on one side; the young man took the other, folding his hands neatly in his lap.
"The total debt this time," he began, "is officially eighteen gold coins and some change. Let's call it nineteen, considering the trouble she has caused."
I nearly choked. "Nineteen gold coins?!" That was a quarter of the cost of a fully kitted personal airship. Who was this person we were here to collect?
Lira massaged her temple with two fingers. "On behalf of the academy, Jenson, I once again thank you and apologise. I will make sure to reprimand her. May I also ask, you said 'officially.' Does that mean she has incurred an unofficial debt as well?"
"Yes." Jenson's face didn't flicker. "She took a total of ten gold coins from a patron at the casino where we collected her from. He is well known as someone who makes illicit loans. He came here trying to buy her from us, but thanks to the standing agreement we have with the academy, we declined."
I blinked. The situation was becoming clearer, though no less confusing. This Mae person had clearly been in trouble, possibly sold into bondage after racking up debts. Yet because of her connection to Lira or the academy, Brightwell had been holding her until Lira came to retrieve her.
What a troublesome person.
Lira exhaled again, softer this time. "Please bring her here. Max…" She turned to me, expression apologetic but firm. "I'm afraid I don't have the total amount of coins required to buy her back with me. Could you pay for it and then have the academy reimburse you afterward?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Will the academy definitely pay me back for her?"
"Yes." She nodded sharply. "Despite all of the trouble she causes, she's a top-notch arcane artificer. Her innovations have already provided the academy thousands of gold coins."
That made me pause. An artificer of that caliber? If she was worth that much, no wonder they were jumping through hoops to get her back.
I agreed, and Jenson rang a small silver bell. A worker appeared at the door and vanished again. We sat in silence, the faint hum of the fountain outside filling the pause.
Then the door opened.
The woman who stepped into the room framed herself against the fractured light from the windows, her silhouette compact but commanding. She couldn't have been taller than my chest, yet she carried herself with a kind of quiet sturdiness, a dwarven solidity mixed with an almost elven grace.
Her long, rose-tinted hair spilled in loose waves over her shoulders, catching the sun in faint glimmers like strands of molten copper. Stray locks framed a face marked by clarity and sharpness, her skin pale but healthy, her brilliant blue eyes gleaming behind delicate spectacles. Their steady gaze pierced through the room like a shard of crystal.
She wore a fitted pale coat trimmed with dark reinforced seams, fastened by heavy brass buttons and cinched with belts and clasps. At her side hung a toolkit's worth of gleaming metal and leather, perhaps weapons, perhaps tools. Articulated bracers of polished steel encased her forearms, inscribed with faint runes for reinforcement. Across her chest, a luminous gem set into a harness pulsed softly, its glow scattering across her attire in subtle flickers.
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Every detail of her attire and bearing suggested precision and order, as though she herself had been crafted by a master artisan.
As soon as she saw Lira, however, that composure melted. A huge smile broke across her face and tears welled in her eyes.
"Big Sis Lira!" she cried, her voice bright and startling in the muted room. "Take me away from here! I've been here for over a week and Jenson hasn't even given me a drop of alcohol!"
Before anyone could react, she barreled forward and dove into Lira's arms, wrapping herself around her and pressing her face into Lira's bust like a child clinging to her mother.
Then she peeked up, noticing me for the first time. Her eyes flicked from my face to my pistols, then back to Lira. "Ho ho! Really, Big Sis! Did you find one? Did you really find one?"
She released Lira and strode toward me with brisk, appraising steps. Her spectacles glinted as she tilted her head. "Hmmm! He seems okay, if a little plain. Wait! Mana pistols! Can he really use these, Lira? What's his name? What's your name? Where are you—"
"Shut up, Mae." Lira's voice snapped like a whip. The anger in her tone made her scolding after my drunken night look gentle by comparison.
Mae flinched, blinking rapidly.
"We can talk about that later," Lira said, her voice lowering but still firm. "But how about, until we return to the academy, you call him Master. He is the one who will be paying for you today."
The words hung in the air for a heartbeat. Mae's bright eyes darted between the two of us, then settled on me. Slowly, a sly smile crept across her lips, the corners quirking upward like a cat who'd found something amusing.
"Okay," she said at last, voice softer but still playful. She took a half-step closer, bowing her head just enough to make it clear she understood the arrangement.
"Well then…" Her blue eyes met mine, glinting like cut sapphires behind her lenses. "…treat me well, Master."