I step out of the building on cloud nine. However small, it's a win—and it's mine.
And…I have a job. I actually have a job. I scrunch my eyes, grinning. I didn't move mountains—just caught a lucky break and used my head—and somehow that made me a lady with employment. I'm still going to celebrate like a kid.
What happens next is on me. I won't let my new boss regret this—or end the contract before a year. In that time I'll prove to Inar he doesn't own me.
Wild, meeting the man—the dragon—twice in one day, in two skins. Dawn: barefoot and drunk on my doorstep. Noon: iron-backed, composed…and beautiful.
Who is he, and why step in? Why did the word patron make him bristle? Filthy word. If I want answers—march, Lilia. Start digging. After one quick stop.
Lost in thought, I end up downtown on foot—I abandoned the mobile somewhere behind me.
The capital's core is a glittering tangle of signs and stalls. Ten minutes and I'm in the thick of it—spice and flowers on the air, music threading the alleys, colors bright against the snow. The city hums like a living thing, a maze where every bend promises a secret or a chance meeting.
Enough pretty pictures. I sigh and turn toward a small, nondescript corner shop. Miriam told me all about it last night—the place she traded her only earrings a year ago. The door sign is blunt: "Exchange. One percent fee."
Inside, warmth: a stocky, bearded man plays chase with a little girl whose laugh fills the room. Their kinship is a rainbow—one green eye, one brown. The coziness wraps me up and squeezes.
The game stops when they notice me. The girl ducks behind her father's leg.
"Good day. Can I exchange these rings?" I open my palm.
"Lady, these are exquisitely made," the man says, weighing one. "I've never seen so many different golds in a single piece here. Our ladies prefer stones. Are you certain you want to sell? Money can be found—treasures like this, not always."
"Does craftsmanship change the price?" Hope edges my voice.
"It does," he admits, glancing aside. "I won't lie—work like this fetches ridiculous sums. I haven't even examined the other two, but I'd wager they're costly as well."
"Forgive me—your name?" My gut warns there's a big however coming, and I want to know what to call him.
"Bernar. Bernar Bonhart, at your service."
"I'm Lili. Your praise has me nervous. Could we get to the point?"
My palms slick with sweat. This is the only pawnshop around. Dragons never part with what's theirs, even starving, and those born outside the gilded gates can't get in. Hence: one shop. One chance.
I'm in the second tier—the not-so-divine. We don't get their kind of life. If Bernar turns me down, I don't want to picture plan B.
"I can buy only this ring," he says, cheeks creasing with equal parts guilt and embarrassment. "I've only got a week's takings in the till. The rest is for my daughter's school."
Because he can't buy them all at once?
"How much?" A week's take here can't be huge—foot traffic is a myth.
"One hundred sixty shekels, Lady Lili. And—if it's not too forward—I can cover the balance in household artifacts," he adds, almost under his breath, braced for a fight.
My brows fly up. I bite my lip to cage the grin. Luck, for once, on my side. That sum keeps me afloat three months—if I play it smart. Bite that, dragon. Seems I can solo this world.
"What artifacts?" I keep my voice cool—no reason to spook the price.
"Home magic. I can bring more next week. First, please sign transfer of ownership—jewelry for the agreed sum."
The scroll says the same in legalese. Who knew one small gold ring came with paperwork.
"Bernar, if this were single-metal and without the filigree, would it fetch the same?"
"No, Lady Lili. Our Empire doesn't work precious metals with this kind of finesse. Your piece is extraordinary. I know someone who'd be very interested."
A little idea buzzes awake at the edge of my mind.
"Do you think this gold thread-weave technique would interest dragon jewelers?" I ask, barely breathing.
He doesn't answer right away. Up close, the half-dwarf is obvious—that's why he's socking away school money.
Asgarn's schools love the "higher race." Half-bloods scrape by; humans, worse. I still dream of a degree—Earth didn't give me that chance.
Bernar's face breaks into a grin."Lady Lili," he says, seizing my hand. "Am I right that you've got a proposal?"
Fox. I smile back."Answer my last question first."
"Yes. Show the right person a piece like this and it could take off," he says, shaking off shyness and pacing the little shop.
My mood dips—his doesn't. Where do we even find the right buyer for a tiny startup like ours? Great idea, zero roadmap. I can't exactly send an anonymous note to Inar's shiny new wife: Be the first to flaunt the latest! Only the most loving husbands buy treasures like these. He'd probably refuse out of spite. Ha. Delicious fantasy, though.
"My sister's husband knows people—connected to the jewelers we need," Bernar says, fully in motion.
My chronic optimism hears the music and joins in.
"I can explain the multi-metal technique and sketch a few designs from my world," I say, ransacking my memory.
Why wasn't I a jeweler in my former life? Or a goldsmith? Right now I'd be opening a workshop with this sweet half-dwarf.
I'm no master, but I know the landscape—and I love adornments. Girls and glitter, right? Maybe it's enough to land a real contract.
"Lady Lili, thank you for choosing my shop," Bernar blurts, pumping my hand again; he nearly hugs me.
Awkward. This isn't a simple sale anymore—it smells like a future revenue stream.
"Before I bring in another partner, I need samples to show," he says, already drafting a contact list.
"I'll be back in the city next week. Give me your address. We'll meet as soon as you line up prospects."
We sign the new agreement with such high spirits I forget—for a heartbeat—that I actually need cash. Luckily, the sapphire studs in my ears catch his eye.
I sell them for twenty shekels—silver tokens, mixed sizes and weights. A mid-grade household artifact costs two. Mental math: good.
The surprise partnership scrambles my focus and I almost forget Mission Two: learn everything about my future boss and what a secretary actually does here.
Back to City Hall. This time: Library of Knowledge. Inside—bookstacks and a big voice-responsive info panel. Child of tech that I am, I have it purring in minutes and plunge into the feed.
Asgarn's infosphere updates monthly. Primitive next to the internet, but trending the right way.
"Lady Lili?" a man's voice cuts through The Political History of the Asgarn Empire.
I blink, eyes sand-dry. Time—gone.
He's behind me: the dragon who hired me. The so-called Wing General. Arms folded behind his back. He's been here awhile.
"Your Grace?" I say, startled.
Why is a man like that interested in… me?
"Hard to reach you—you read like you mean it," he says, sliding into the chair opposite.
His gaze doesn't budge. It skims my face, pauses on my mouth, and goes very, very still.
"Yes. I plan to show up ready for war tomorrow," I answer with a courteous smile.
The Wing General inclines his head and offers a slim card. Banking here requires an account—I didn't have one five minutes ago.
"What's this?"
"Your pay card. Salary lands here. I've sent an advance for now," he says, calm as stone.
Curious. Is he that desperate for an aide… or is there another reason he doesn't intend to let me slip away?