“Another one, Lady Naerys,” Zary said, handing over a scroll. Vindictive amusement was clear on her bronze face.

“Who was it this time?” Naerys asked. They sat in her office in the White House, the room having rapidly become the beating heart of the Still Waters Company. It was in an awkward position, half Naerys’ enterprise and half official government business, but given that she was the right hand of the city’s leader, it was working so far.

“The fat eunuch this time,” Zary said, as she returned to her desk. It had become the norm not to refer to the more recalcitrant merchants by name, much to their impotent fury.

“I thought he had adapted better than most,” Naerys said.

“He did,” Iria said, from over in the corner where she worked at her own desk. Her pale northern face was a burnt red, evidence of her brief walk through the market the day before. “Apparently the margins of an honest merchant are not to his liking.”

“Yet he claims bankruptcy and debts,” Naerys said, reading the scroll. “His figures would seem to support that.”

“If his figures aren’t in the black, they’re lies,” Iria said.

“You’re sure?” Naerys asked.

“He found out that his highly paid accountant was having a slave do the work all along,” Iria said. “After Lord America’s Proclamation, that didn’t go too well for him.” Satisfaction coloured her voice. “He hired the freeman, but didn’t consider that Zatla might hold a grudge. We have drinks on weekends.”

“So he means to leave the city, and take his coin with him,” Naerys said. She tapped a finger on the desk.

“If he’s claiming poverty, he shouldn’t have any coin to take,” Zary said.

“No coin means no taxes,” Naerys said. “Well, that just won’t do.”

“Shall I send a request for some of Lady Keladry’s men?” Iria asked, looking up from her work.

“...no, I believe we’ll handle this another way,” Naerys said. She twined the end of her braid around one finger as she leaned back in her sinfully comfortable chair, thinking. “Offer him three quarters the market rate for his trade company. It is unprofitable, after all,” she said, waving the scroll around.

Zary dug for something amongst her cluttered desk. Not that Naerys’ was any better. Half the ‘security’ for the sensitive documents in the room was the complete mess they were hidden in.

“The company isn’t being sold wholesale,” Zary said, eyes scanning the document she found. “He’s selling the offices in one lot, and then his ships separately.”

“All of them?”

“All but one,” Zary reported.

“Have someone find out which ship, and it’s berth, quietly,” Naerys said. “And spread the word that Still Waters intends to purchase his properties.”

“We could likely offer him half of the market rate after that,” Iria said. The Still Waters Company, while scrupulously honest in most of its dealings, was earning a black reputation amongst those of the slave owning persuasion.

“Now, let’s not be greedy,” Naerys said. “It wouldn’t be right to leave the man without a copper to his name.”

The smiles shared by the three ladies, a bastard girl and two freewomen who were rapidly becoming the centre of economic power of an entire city, would have put sharks to shame.

X

The next morning found Naerys indulging in one of her guilty pleasures. Not one of the ones that involved books, or chocolate, or Steve, but one that involved coin. There was something meditative about watching coin counters work, she had found. Not the accountants, bent over desks and scribbling away with quills as they balanced accounts, but the literal coin counters, handling heavy stacks of gold and silver as they audited the city’s treasury. She was admiring the neat rows of gold ingots when Zary found her.

“Have you considered having a few moved to your bed?” Zary asked by way of greeting, indicating the ingots.

“I have better things in my bed,” Naerys said, only blushing a little.

“Yes, I saw Lord America training the city guard earlier,” Zary said. “I would have volunteered to nurse him back to health too.”

“Hush, or I’ll tell Captain Tybro why you really-”

Zary made a shushing sound, glancing over to a nearby guard. “You are the worst. Here, the results of our snooping.”

Naerys accepted the report, reading through it quickly. Her eyebrows raised. “That’s a lot of gold.”

“Enough to reestablish himself in another city, one friendlier to his favoured business practices,” Zary said.

“Well, we can’t have that,” Naerys said. “His vessel?”

“The Obedient Maiden,” Zary said with an expression of distaste, “a carrack. Said to have a cargo of onions.”

“And the offer from Still Waters?”

“Accepted immediately,” Zary said. “You are the owner of a ‘failed’ trading company and most of its ships. He claimed he needed the coin to pay off outstanding debts, but another crate of onions was added to his ship’s manifest.”

“Have them folded into our existing structure, once you have them checked for the usual,” Naerys said.

“I’ll speak with Captain Tybro about a search,” Zary said, thinking aloud. She glanced at Naerys’ smirking face and coloured. “Hush.”

“I need to speak with Steve about this,” Naerys said. “The guard’s training should be ending soon, if you’d like to come with me?”

Zary glowered at her, but it was without heat, and she nodded.

It did not take them long to reach the fortified barracks where the morning training took place, close to the White House as it was. They arrived just in time to see its end, watching as Steve threw the last of three men on their back, dozens more watching from around the courtyard.

“Remember, the man next to you is your greatest asset in any fight,” Steve announced, as he began to help them up. “It doesn’t matter if the other guy is bigger if your buddy knocks him over the head while he’s distracted with you.” He noticed Naerys and Zary out of the corner of his eye, and brought things to a close. “Good work today everyone. See you all next time.”

The training began to break up, guards going about their business as Naerys and Zary drifted towards the ruler of the city. He was wiping his brow with a cloth, shirt clinging to his chest, and Naerys had to remind herself that this was the man she had shared a bath with only that morning.

“Ladies, good to see you,” Steve said.

“Steve.”

“Lord America.”

“Zary, Tybro wanted to speak with you if you had a moment,” Steve said. He gestured over to a man nearby who had a sudden look of panic on his face.

Zary missed it, distracted by her own sudden panic. “Oh, of course. I’ll just, yes.”

“That was cruel,” Naerys said, amusement in her voice as they watched Zary walk off.

“Well, some people need a nudge,” Steve said.

Naerys turned an unimpressed eye on her lover.

“Hey look, a distraction,” Steve said, and then he leaned in to kiss her gently.

She couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, but then her nose wrinkled. “You smell, and I’m here on business,” she said, placing a hand on his chest and stepping back.

“Is that how you talk about me to others?” Steve asked.

Naerys ignored his cheek. “What is your schedule like for the next two day?”

“A food caravan was hit by ‘bandits’ so I’m going out to deal with them. I’ll ride out tomorrow with a company of the Hammer,” Steve said. “Today is just planning, but that won’t take long.”

“The bandits with unusually good arms and armour?” Naerys asked.

“That’s them,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll have to act suitably surprised when they spring their ambush on me. Hopefully I can get them monologuing.” He smirked.

That smirk did things to her, and she focused on the topic at hand. “Do you have time for a good deed before you leave? I can always speak with Lyanna, but I think you’ll enjoy this.”

“What do you have in mind?” Steve asked.

Naerys told him.

“The eunuch…is he the one who tried to sneak a law allowing employers to beat their servants into the housing bill?”

“The same.”

Steve smiled. It was not a friendly smile. “I think I can spare a few hours.”

X

The following day, after she had seen Steve off as he left the city with a company of the Hammer, Naerys made her way to the docks, a small entourage of assistants and guards behind her. She had duties to carry out in the business quarter after seeing to this personal errand, after all. It was unusual for a government official to see a failed trader off as they left the city, but Naerys did not care much. Harrenhal had given her a taste for seeing bullies and evil men get their just deserts, and the best part of that was to see their faces as realisation struck them.

It did not take long for her presence on the docks to be noticed by the ship she was watching, and its master was soon informed. He waddled down the gangplank, a scribe at his back and a practised smile on his face.

“Lady Naerys,” the fat eunuch said, fanning his face with a wooden fan. “What a pleasure to see you here.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lamosh Ahrion,” Naerys said. The man’s smile grew strained as she omitted the title that his position in the city had once allowed him.

“Is there something I can aid you with?” he asked. “My captain tells me we must set sail soon.”

“I only desired to wish you well in your voyage,” Naerys said. “I understand that business has not been kind to you of late.”

“Like the seas, business can be treacherous,” he said, shrugging, seemingly philosophical about his apparent misfortunes. Sweat trailed down the side of his red face. “Fortunes always turn, Lady Naerys.”

“Just so,” Naerys said, pretending not to notice the thread of smugness in his voice, or the subtle threat. “You may have lost much of the wealth you gained over years of profiting off the backs of others, but if you work hard, I’m sure you can find your way out of poverty,” she said, voice dripping with false earnesty.

“How kind,” Lamosh said. The pace of his fan picked up briefly.

“I’ll not keep you,” Naerys said. “I hope your onions provide you with the fresh start you need.”

The fan froze. “My onions.”

“Is that not your cargo?” Naerys asked. “I heard a market rumour…”

“No, of course,” he said. He began to work his fan again, almost frantically.

There was a bellow aboard the ship, and the deckhands began moving faster, untying the lines that secured it to the dock and running out sails.

“I shan’t keep you,” Naerys said. “Remember, so long as you have a copper penny to your name, there’s always hope.”

Lamosh gave her a look, and nodded jerkily. He turned and hurried back up the gangplank, scribe scurrying behind him, and disappeared out of sight.

Naerys watched as the ship cast off. Steve had returned home late the night before, smelling of onions and salt. If only there was a way to see the eunuch’s face when he realised, but she would have to settle for–

An anguished scream rang across the water, startling gulls from their roosts and drawing the eye of many a sailor. It was the scream of a man who had just checked on the treasure he was attempting to smuggle out of the city and found naught but vegetables where there should be gold. Nothing but vegetables, and a single, solitary copper penny.

Naerys smiled to herself. As the Braavosi said, it was just good business.