Chapter 39: Chapter-39

He settled into the chair across from her with practiced ease, Kael taking position to his left in his simpler traveling jacket—the son deferring to the father’s authority. Both men took small portions from the offerings—protocol, not hunger.

Elara looked at the elder Verin directly. “Shall we discuss the collaboration?”

A slight smile crossed his face as he set down a pastry untouched. “It seems Your Highness is confident her product will be successful.”

“I made it myself. Of course I’m confident it works correctly.” Her tone was flat, factual. “Am I wrong?”

“Not at all, Your Highness. The preservation anchor performed exactly as promised. Quite impressive, actually.” He picked up his wine glass, took a measured sip. “However, I do have concerns about the contract terms.”

Elara’s expression didn’t change. “What concerns?”

“The revenue split Your Highness proposed—thirty percent to your household, sixty percent to our operations. Don’t you think that’s rather… excessive on your end?”

Elara set down her own cup with deliberate care, the fine porcelain clicking against its saucer. Her eyes locked on his, and something in her gaze shifted—from polite business discussion to something considerably sharper.

“Oh? And what exactly is excessive about it?” Her voice remained level, but the temperature in the room dropped noticeably. “Please explain.”

Verin’s smile flickered slightly. “Well, Your Highness, considering we’re providing all the infrastructure—the ships, the warehouses, the distribution networks, the merchant relationships—while you’re simply supplying the anchors, thirty percent seems quite high. Perhaps fifteen or twenty would be more appropriate—”

Elara raised one hand, cutting him off mid-sentence.

“Mr. Verin.” Her tone was ice. “From the moment you started speaking just now, your eyes have been calculating how much you can negotiate down. Let me be extremely clear about something.”

She leaned forward slightly, and both beast knights shifted their weight—subtle but noticeable support. The crystal chandelier caught the light on their polished armor.

“I told your son during our initial meeting: test the product. If you like it, we proceed with contracts. If you don’t, we part ways. No obligations.” Her gaze was absolutely empty of warmth. “You are not the only merchant in this empire I can partner with. You’re the largest, yes. The most prestigious. But there are dozens of mid-tier operations who would kill for access to this technology at ’any’ terms.”

Verin’s expression tightened. A bead of sweat formed at his temple—not fear, exactly, but recognition that he’d miscalculated something fundamental.

“Your Highness, I didn’t mean to suggest—”

“You meant to test whether I’m weak enough to be negotiated down through pressure.” Elara’s voice remained flat, analytical. “You heard I’m the ’kind’ princess. The ’soft-hearted’ one who speaks gently and avoids conflict. So you came here expecting someone you could bully into accepting worse terms.”

She picked up her tea cup again, movements controlled and precise.

“Unfortunately for you, that princess doesn’t exist. Or rather, she did exist, and she’s dead. I’m what’s left.” She took a sip. “So here are your actual options: Accept the thirty-sixty split with exclusive licensing rights for ten years. Or walk away, and I’ll have contracts with the Helian Merchant Consortium finalized by week’s end. They’re smaller than your operation, but they’re hungry. And they won’t waste my time with negotiation theater.”

The silence stretched taut.

Kael looked genuinely shocked, staring at this woman who bore no resemblance to the nervous princess he’d met before. His father’s face had gone carefully blank, but his hands were too still on his lap—the forced stillness of someone working very hard to maintain composure.

Guild Master Verin had walked into this meeting expecting a sheltered royal he could manipulate. Someone weak. Pitiful. Easy to pressure.

Instead, he was facing a woman who looked at him like a predator eyeing prey—exhausted, yes, with dark circles under her eyes and tension in her shoulders, but absolutely unwilling to yield ground.

She looked like a lioness ready to pounce if he made one more wrong move.

“Your Highness,” Verin said carefully, “I apologize if I gave offense. That was not my intention.”

“Then accept the terms or leave. I have other work to finish today, and this conversation is becoming inefficient.”

Another long pause. Verin glanced at his son, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod—’the technology is real, father, we need this.’

“The terms are acceptable,” Verin said finally. “Thirty-sixty split, ten-year exclusive license. We’ll sign.”

“Good. My legal researcher will have final contracts prepared within three days. You’ll receive copies for review before formal signing.” Elara stood, indicating the meeting was over. “Anything else?”

“Just one question, Your Highness.” Verin rose as well, adjusting his coat. “The rumors about your… political difficulties. Are they accurate?”

“My relationship with my family is complicated. My business relationships are not.” She met his eyes. “You’re partnering with my technology and my household’s commercial operations, not my succession candidacy. Keep those things separate, and we’ll both profit. Confuse them, and you’ll regret it.”

It wasn’t quite a threat. But it was close enough.

Verin bowed—deeper than before, with genuine respect this time. “Understood, Your Highness. We look forward to a profitable partnership.”

As the merchants left, the fox knight poured fresh tea without being asked.

Elara sat back down heavily, some of the steel leaving her posture now that the performance was over. She looked exhausted again—the dark circles more prominent, the slight tremor in her hands visible now that she wasn’t forcing them steady.

“That went better,” the fox knight observed quietly.

“He came expecting weakness. Got something else. Now he’ll tell everyone the Fourth Princess is more dangerous than her reputation suggests.” Elara drank the tea in one long swallow. “Good. Let them recalibrate. Maybe it’ll make the next negotiation easier.”

She stood again, movements careful, and walked toward her private study.

“Your Highness, you should rest—”

“I need to draft those contracts. Three days isn’t much time.” She paused at the doorway. “And I need to send correspondence to five other merchant houses. If Verin tries to renegotiate or backs out, I want alternatives ready immediately.”

The fox knight watched her disappear into the study, knowing she wouldn’t stop until the work was finished.

The Fourth Princess everyone thought they knew—kind, weak, easy to manipulate—was gone.

What remained was something considerably more dangerous.

And the empire was just beginning to realize it.

Elara had been working for three hours when she heard the sound.

Not loud—just the whisper of fabric against stone, too deliberate to be a servant’s movement. The candles on her desk flickered as if a draft had passed, but all the windows were closed.

She looked up from the contract she’d been drafting.

The fox knight was already moving.

He threw himself across the desk just as something silver flashed through the air where Elara’s head had been a heartbeat before. The blade embedded itself in the wooden chair back with a meaty ’thunk’.

“Down!” he shouted.

Elara dropped to the floor on instinct, contracts scattering. Her previous life’s training kicked in automatically—assess, move, survive. She’d taken Taekwondo for six years, Sanda for three, enough self-defense classes to handle corporate security threats.

But the figure that dropped from the ceiling moved faster than anything she’d trained against.

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