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she seemed to wear them almost aggressively, as a badge of pride.
Cerris, who hadn’t really had eyes for a woman since—well, in quite some time—found himself standing just a tad straighter.
“Lady Irrial,” he greeted her, executing a passable bow and brushing his lips across her knuckles.
“Why are you bullying poor Rannert, Master Cerris?” she demanded in a husky voice. Her lips were turned downward, but as he rose, her guest could have sworn he saw a flicker of amusement ripple across those freckles.
“Well, I didn’t think you’d appreciate me actually knocking him out, my lady, and bribing him just seemed so disrespectful.”
Those downturned lips twitched.
“Please be seated, Master Cerris.” She swept toward one of several chairs, gown swirling like a mist around her.
“Oh, just Cerris, please,” he said, sitting opposite her. Then, “I
do
apologize for just dropping by like this, my lady. I simplythought it best to make sure everyone got to know me, since we’re all going to be working together.”
“Are we indeed? And why is that, ‘just Cerris’?”
“I’m the new owner of Danrien’s mercantile interests.”
Irrial’s jaw went slack. “Danrien sold?
All
of it?”
Cerris nodded.
“I can’t believe it. That old coo—ah, that dear old man,” she corrected, recovering her manners through her shock, “ate, slept, and breathed commerce. I was certain that, come the day he died—Vantares be patient—his successors would have to pry his ledgers from one hand, and his purse from the other.” Her brow furrowed. “To hear Rannert tell it, you’re not exactly the most diplomatic individual. How
did
you convince him to sell?”
“Just worked a bit of my own personal magic, my lady,” Cerris said blandly.
“I see. I do hope that you’re not planning to conduct all your business in the same manner that you dealt with my staff.”
“Not unless I have to.”
A moment of awkward silence. “You realize, Cerris, that my cousin Duke Halmon actually rules here. The rest of us govern while he sits on the regent’s throne in Mecepheum, but we each own only a portion of the city’s lands. I can’t unilaterally make trade arrangements for all of Rahariem.”
“Oh, I understand, my lady. You’re not the only noble on my agenda. I just wanted to get to know
each
of you, and to assure you that I won’t be taking the opportunity of the changeover to raise prices on goods and transport.”
“That’s very kind of you, Cerris. And will you be taking Danrien’s place in the Merchants’ Guild as well?”
“I thought,” he said carefully, “that it would be best to deal with the
real
power in Rahariem first, make certain my foundation was solid with you, before—”
Irrial raised a hand. “You wanted to have the nobles backing you before you approached the Guild, so that they’d let you take over Danrien’s senior office, rather than starting you at the bottomof the heap as they normally do new members, no matter whose routes they now oversee.”
Cerris felt himself flush lightly. “You’re quite astute, my lady.”
Her eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Then perhaps we ought to discuss a
lowering
of prices, Cerris. Just to make certain that I feel comfortable backing your claim.”
For a long moment, he could only stare. Then, “I should have bought out Rahariem’s coopers as well. At least that way I could have gotten some work done while you’ve got me over this barrel.”
Irrial laughed—not the genteel titter of an aristocrat, but a full-throated guffaw that would have been at home in any tavern. Cerris couldn’t help but smile along with her as they began their negotiations.

    H E’D VISITED THE ESTATE often in the intervening years—perhaps, though he’d never have admitted it to himself let alone anyone else, more frequently than business strictly mandated—and he knew the layout well. He knew, too, that while his stolen uniform had been necessary to get him through the gate, and