Albert practically collapsed into his chair. It had been a rough day, the capstone to a rough week, and yet he knew it had been far worse for his clients. Six cases in as many days, ranging from counts of petty larceny to debt to assault of a noble, and he had only been able to get one person off. The rest had been sentenced to rot in Oldhallow Prison, except for the poor sod who had punched out a baron’s son; that man would be wearing his final necktie on Oldhallow’s steps by the end of the month.

Not that Albert ever had much of a chance to begin with, especially given the Honorable Justice Thorwhip’s predilection for strict punishment as a way to instruct the lower class. Some of the evidence was thin, but with so many trials in sequence Albert was barely able to remember the particulars of each case, much less mount the kind of serious defence these men deserved. Now he just put his face between his hands and let out a soft, defeated groan.

“Want some tea, then?” Margaret asked him, not unkindly. She had been reading some cheap tawdry book when he had arrived, but she had set it aside to take his coat and the paperwork from the case, setting them on the coat rack and his desk, respectively.

He said something muffled and unintelligible in response, which she correctly took to mean assent. She poked around a bit in the stove, stoking the fire, before placing the kettle on top. Every day, he was grateful that he had taken the chance to hire her. She might not have much interest in the finer point of the Estellan legal code, but she kept his papers in order and had the social grace to read his mood and act accordingly. Not that she didn’t have some decent understanding of the law, after having worked with him for this long. Compared to the ambitious young men who he had worked with when he was getting his degree, he would take Margaret every time.

In his mind, he was replaying the details of the latest case in his mind, trying to figure out if there had been some defense he could have mounted that would have changed the outcome. His contemplation was interrupted, however, by a sudden knock on the door. You could tell a lot from the way somebody knocked, he’d discovered. Most of his clients would either knock softly, unwilling to impose on even a lesser noble, or else loud and with urgency, if they were in dire straits. His landlord knocked with some langor, and Margaret of course never knocked at all. This knock was different, though; it wasn’t overly loud, confident without being aggressive, the kind that comes from someone who does not just expect the door to open for them but rather knows that it will. It sounded, in short, like trouble.

He pulled his head out of his hands. Margaret was already moving to the door, of course. Albert took the opportunity to run a quick hand through his curly brown hair, trying to ensure it had not fallen out of order, and then briefly straightened his waistcoat and cravat to make himself look more respectable. He wanted to call Margaret off, to yell through the closed door that they ought to go away and come back in the morning, but that would hardly be proper, or kind. Instead, he just braced himself for a final meeting to place the capstone onto an exhausting day.

Still, he wasn’t quite prepared for what he saw when Margaret swung the door open. On the other side of the frame, there stood a young lady, no older than thirteen if he had to guess, wearing a rough woolen overcoat, which she promptly removed to reveal a rather plain, ill-fitting dress. She had long blond hair, a pale face set in an unreadable expression, and violet eyes that quickly glanced around the room before locking on to Albert’s own gaze. She matched it with complete fearlessness, and in the end he was the one who looked away.

It was only then that he saw the tall woman behind her, and this was a familiar face. It had been some time since he had last seen Mary Hartwright, and she was wearing the plain clothing that befit her occupation rather than the uniform of the college, but all the same the woman was unmistakable. Just seeing her, his frustrations with the day were somewhat lifted. He belatedly realized the reason for the visit, and he pushed himself up from the seat.

“Mister Finnegan, it is wonderful to see you again,” she said, gracing him with a slight smile.

“Likewise, Miss Hartwright,” he replied. “May I trouble you to introduce me to the young lady?” He knew who she was, of course. He had known that Miss Hartwright had entered into the employ of Duke Senius, and so he would have known that the girl was the Duke’s daughter even without the letter he had received, a bit over a fortnight back. Her poorly made clothing had thrown him off for a moment, but it was evident enough why she would be travelling in some disguise. Still, there were certain proprieties to be observed, and that was doubly true when dealing with a lady of her rank.

“Of course. Mister Finnegan, allow me to present my charge, the Lady Alicia Senius.” She turned to Alicia. “My lady, allow me to present Sir Albert Finnegan, Esquire, an acquaintance of mine from our school days. He is a competent lawyer, and completely trustworthy.”

“High praise, Miss Hartwright, to which I will endeavor to meet,” Albert said. He gave a practiced bow to the lady. “Lady Alicia, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She ducked her head, the slight acknowledgement that he was due. “The pleasure is all mine, sir.” Albert noted that she had good manners, although that was unsurprising given who her etiquette instructor had been.

“I do hope we haven’t come at a bad time, Mister Finnegan,” Miss Hartwright interjected.

“Of course not,” Albert replied, waving his hand dismissively. “I have been expecting your visit for quite some time, although I wasn’t certain when you would arrive; your letter mentioned no specific date.”

“My apologies, Mister Finnegan.” This response came from Lady Alicia, rather than her governess. “We were not sure quite when we would arrive, and the nature of my business is such that I would rather my father not learn of this meeting.”

His eyebrows raised at that, before he could control them. His estimation of the lady raised as well, although the latter sentence put him on guard. “Well, I must confess that I was intrigued by the letter that I received. To be frank I am not sure what I can do for you, but if there is anything within my power that I could do to assist you, I shall of course do so. Please, my lady, take a seat. Would either of you care for any tea? Margaret, could you prepare tea for the two ladies as well?”

“That would be lovely,” Miss Hartwright said, and Lady Alicia nodded in assent as well. His secretary got to work, quickly busying herself for a moment with preparing the tea. The young lady sat down in the chair and Albert sank into his behind the desk as well. Miss Hartwright remained standing, which was more a function of a lack of chairs in the office than anything else. She had been adamant about leaving the city, and while he understood her reasons (and even sympathized with them), he had been quite upset to see her leave. He had spent the first few years at the Academy without any real close acquaintances, but then he had met the Hartwright twins. They were both kind and brilliant, in their own ways, and they occupied an uncertain social class to which he could easily relate. He had always felt like they were destined for some sort of greatness, although sadly reality had not been quite so kind to any of them, himself included.

The young lady gave a polite cough, and Albert realized that he had drifted off slightly. Apparently he was more worn out than even he had realized. Mentally, he shook himself, and then gave the lady a professional smile. “To business, then?”

“Indeed,” she said. “Mister Finnegan, if I said I wanted some way to invest capital with limited liability, and additionally make it difficult for others to trace that investment back to me, would you know of any way to achieve such a goal?”

He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward in his chair. “That is quite a specific request, my lady.” Specific, and displaying a level of fiscal knowledge and precision well beyond what he would expect from a girl her age, even a noble.

“Is it possible, sir?” She leaned forward, her eyes filled with intent and determination.

“Certainly,” he said. “In fact, off the top of my head, I can think of several different approaches, although each has its own benefits and drawbacks. I imagine this is more than a hypothetical, then.”

“What would you recommend, then?”

Albert drummed his fingers against his desk, considering the problem. “The easiest approach would be for you to just directly loan money at some fixed interest rate to a business that you trust. If you were a man my age, that’s what I would recommend you do, but I imagine that isn’t quite amenable to your situation.”

“You imagine correctly,” the young lady replied, with a hint of a smile.

“The second option, then, would be for you to contact a stockbroker, and invest in the stocks of a publicly traded company. That could provide more anonymity, as well as a higher possible rate of return.”

Lady Alicia was already shaking her head. “No. I’m afraid that wouldn’t serve my needs at all.”

“The third option will require some paperwork, and I can only recommend it if you intend to make several long term investments in smaller businesses.”

“That is exactly what I intend to do, sir,” she interjected.

“I see,” he said. This was getting quite interesting; he could see why Miss Hartwright had lauded her charge with such praise in the letter. “In that case, I would recommend the creation of a limited liability corporation that specializes in investment. You can be both owner and client, but the records can be privately kept, inaccessible for anything short of a lawsuit.”

“What’s the drawback?”

“It will take a few weeks to get it set up, and you’ll need to pay ten sterlings as a one-time processing fee.”

“That is an acceptable loss,” she said almost immediately.

Margaret arrived then with the tea. Albert took his cup with almost a sense of relief.

“For obvious reasons, it would be a poor idea for me to contact businesses directly. Mr. Finnegan, would you be willing to act as an intermediary in my affairs?”

He took a sip of tea, stalling for time while he thought. On one hand, that meant adding more to his already considerable workload. On the other hand, he would be doing a favor for the daughter of a duke, which in the right circumstance could be worth more than all the gildlilies in Estelar. And there was Miss Hartwright to consider, as well. “I can handle it, but I will still need payment for my work. Say, ten sterling a year.”

The look that the lady gave him seemed almost mischievous, although he wouldn’t dare apply such a label to a woman of her standing. “Rather than a fixed payment, what do you say to a percentage of the corporation’s profit? I could go as high as five percent per annum.”

“Do you not trust me, my lady?” The question may have been somewhat impertinent, but she was asking him to take a much less certain deal.

“Of course I do, Mister Finnegan. Or rather, I trust Miss Hartwright, and she seems to trust you, so I have decided to do so as well. However, when it comes to business, I prefer to rely on something a little stronger than mere trust.”

“How much is the initial investment?”

“One hundred sterling.”

He leaned back in his chair, running some quick calculations in his mind. Perhaps this whole line of questioning could be seen as impolite, but it had quickly become apparent that the young lady had a mind for business. He doubted she would much mind him responding in kind. “Then you’re expecting a return of over twenty percent on your initial investments.”

“Just so, sir.” She said it with such ease and confidence, as if it wasn’t a frankly ridiculous claim. Still, he found himself wanting to believe in her. Besides, he would have accepted her request even if she had asked him to do it for free. It was hard to put a price tag on a high noble’s favor, and he was sure now that the young lady knew that as well.

“Very well, my lady. I’ll file the paperwork for the corporation tomorrow morning. Do you have a name in mind?” It was looking like it would be an even longer day than he had expected, but strangely the thought didn’t fill him with dread. He pulled out a pencil and a scrap of paper, ready to right down her response.

The lady paused for a while, considering her response carefully. “Akari Corporation,” she said at last. “Miss Hartwright, if you will.”

“Of course, my lady.” The governess reached into her bag and pulled out a small purse. Walking over to his desk, she counted out nineteen silver sterlings, and then placed down one larger gildlily right in the middle. “One hundred sterling.”

He stared at the gold piece, well aware from his clients of how many hours of factory work it would take to earn such a thing. “I appreciate your trust in me.” He didn’t know if he was talking to the lady or the governess. Miss Hartwright just nodded.

“Can I see that?” the young lady suddenly interjected. He looked over, but she didn’t seem to be talking to him; instead, she was speaking to Margaret, pointing with one hand at the book the older woman was holding.

“Of course you can, poppet,” Margaret replied good naturedly. Albert jerked up in alarm, and it occurred to him that he had not quite told Margaret of the true identity of his guests. Of course, the woman was far from stupid, but she had little interest in the politics of nobles—in fact it was partly because she was intelligent that she knew not to mess with such things—but it also meant she might not recognize that Lady Alicia was the daughter of one of the most influential men in all of Estelar. As a result, she was almost certainly unaware of how disrespectful her casual tone had been.

The young lady didn’t take any obvious offence, and merely accepted the small paperback book with a calculating smile. That was when Albert had his second moment of alarm, as he remembered just what kind of novel his assistant had been reading.

“What do you think, Miss Hartwright?” The lady handed her the book.

Miss Hartwright took a moment to truly examine it. She inspected the cover, ran her fingers down the spine, and then quickly fanned through the pages. “It’s very poorly made, my lady. The cover’s glorified cardstock, the binding is weak, the paper is rough and flimsy. I doubt it would hold up to much wear, and I can’t imagine the story holds much weight either.”

“So in your estimate, quite cheap then?” The young lady was smiling brightly now. She seemed to be set on humiliating Margaret, but he didn’t know how much he would be able to protect her.

“Indeed, my lady,” Miss Hartwright replied, sounding somewhat puzzled. It was, Albert knew, a rare expression for her to show.

“I thought so as well.” The young lady turned to the older woman. “Do you remember how much you paid for it?”

“Two shill three pawning, I believe it was,” his assistant replied. She seemed hesitant to answer, but it would be worse to ignore the request of a noblewoman.

“Excellent,” the young lady said, smiling brightly. “Do you remember where you bought it? I would very much like to meet the seller.”