A tingling in Jessabelle’s chest reminds her of an old saying. ‘Butterflies in your stomach’. She’d always found sayings such as this frivolous, but it really was an apt description. The pressure of pleasing her new Lord had been building over the last week, and now it was reaching its peak. Lord Reud had been polite, even friendly over the journey. A far cry from the other nobles she had met, who would have insisted she warm their beds each night for the long trip. Not that she would have minded too much if he had made a move. His paleness had a certain charm of its own, and his power was… exciting. But he hadn’t given the slightest indication that he had any desires towards her in that way, not even stealing a glance towards her when they took a break to wash in a stream.

Looking back out the window, Jessabelle takes in the surrounding city, the familiar property evoking an onslaught of memories. The last time she had been here was with her father, half a dozen years ago. Back before his illness, before her two brothers split her fathers fortunes between themselves, leaving her with nothing.

Ahead, their destination comes into sight. The house of an old friend of her fathers, Viscount Zovran Duras. With any luck, the fondness he had shown during her past visits wouldn’t have faded. The Viscount owned a flourishing trading network specializing in luxuries for the nobility, everything from intricate needlework to gourmet delicacies. Through him, she should be able to contact other traders, and put out the word that Srinaber has the funds to be worth visiting.

Turning to Lord Reud, she points out their destination. Without a word from him, the carriages turn slightly, rolling along the road towards it. The horseless carriages were unnerving at first, but the smoothness of their travel quickly grew on her. Unlike regular carriages, they hadn’t needed regular stops to feed and rest the horses, instead able to continue all day and night. A journey that would take her father almost two weeks, took them less than half that. Lord Reud was always full of wonders.

As the carriages trundle to a stop before Zovran’s towering mansion, its door opens and a well-dressed man strides out, his nose thrust into the air arrogantly.

“There are no appointments scheduled for today.” He says, folding his arms behind his back. “Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit?”

Jessabelle smiles as she steps out of the carriage. “Carson! It’s been such a long time!”

Carson’s eyes go wide as he looks her over, a crack appearing in his stoic visage. “Little Jess, is that you? I…” His professional demeanour snaps back into place. “I will inform Master Duras immediately, he will be most pleased to see you. Please, follow me to the receiving room.”

Jessabelle steps to one side, waiting for Lord Reud to disembark as well, before following Carson to the main house. The building was large, impressive even for the inner city. With the title of Viscount, Zovran Duras was a moderately influential man, outranking most others with titles in Avonford. Therefore, his home was built to reflect that status. Expensive, tall windows line the front face of the building, revealing opulently decorated rooms within.

Carson pulls open the main door, gesturing for them to enter with a flourishing bow. Just as formal as she remembered him to be. Within, a large entrance hall greets them, corridors stretching out to each side, and two arcing staircases leading up from either side of the room to the floors above.

Carson shuts the doors behind them, before continuing to one side. “Please, follow me.”

He leads them down the corridor to the left, and into another large room. Chairs dominate the decor, positioned in two large arcs around a number of smaller tables. Huge paintings of men, clad in rare silks and laden with jewellery cover the walls, and overhead hangs a glittering chandelier.

“I will inform Master Duras of your visit, please make yourselves comfortable.” Carson says, before bowing and retreating from the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Jessabelle immediately drops herself into one of the cushioned chairs, settling herself deep into its soft embrace. The carriage journey had been quick, but the wooden interior was extremely uncomfortable to it within for a long period of time. Lord Reud, however, strides straight past her to inspect the paintings.

“So, this Zovran, what can you tell me about him?” He asks without turning his head.

Jessabelle sits herself back upright. “He’s an old friend of my fathers. From what I understand he is from an ancient family, their title having been passed down for generations.”

Lord Reud strides over to another of the paintings, peering at it closely, as if trying to remember something. “Hmm… What did you say his surname was again?”

“Duras. Why, my lord?” Jessabelle asks.

“Nothing really, just an idle thought.” Lord Reud strides over to another painting, stroking his chin.

The door opening stop any further questions. Jessabelle turns around to find Zovran standing in the doorway, a wide smile on his face. Since she’d last seen him, he’d aged, his black hair now thin and streaked with grey. More wrinkles had found his face, especially under his eyes, emphasizing the black bags that speak to long nights. He’d gained some more padding around the waist, giving him the portly look she always knew he was heading towards.

Throwing his arms wide he walks towards her, his booming voice filling the room. “Jess! It has been far too long.”

Jessabelle stands and walks over to wrap him in a hug in return. “Zovran, it’s so good to see you again.”

Zovran releases her and steps back. “Quite the young woman you’ve grown into now.” Sadness replaces the smile on his face. “I’m so sorry to hear about what happened to your father. The flux is truly a curse from Vistol.”

Jessabelle bows her head. “Thank you, he would have been grateful for your words.”

“Now, where are my manners?” Zovran says. “Jess, you must introduce me to your companion.”

Mentally kicking herself, she turns to Lord Reud. The correct etiquette should have been to introduce him immediately to properly establish their respective positions. She’d never been good at the intricacies of interacting with nobles, despite all her father’s attempts to teach her. Though at fourteen, what girl was? She just had to hope that Lord Reud wouldn’t take the slight personally.

“May I introduce Viscount Reud of Srinaber.” She says, using the title they had agreed upon beforehand. Much to her surprise, Lord Reud apparently didn’t have an official rank in the peerage. Without one, it would be difficult to garner any attention from those in Avonford, but choosing one too prestigious would invite too much scrutiny. An Earl was the best compromise, outranking the Barons that make up most of the nobles in an outlying city like this one, but not high enough to make it easy to disprove the claim.

Zovran bows at the waist slightly, precisely as much as etiquette demands is done between equals. Lord Reud matches him without hesitation.

Straightening, Zovran cocks his head. “Of Srinaber? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the city.”

Lord Reud nods. “That’s as expected, it is newly established. A personal project of mine, if you’ll forgive the vanity such a statement elicits. It is actually for this reason I travelled here. Jessabelle says you would be the person to contact to inquire into enticing merchants to travel to Srinaber.”

Zovran looks sceptical, his brow furrowing in a way that Jessabelle remembers would be quickly followed by a rejection. A look she’d seen many times when asking for another sweetroll as a girl.

Before those words can come out his mouth, Jessabelle jumps into the conversation. “Zovran, I wouldn’t come here unless I thought it would be worth your while. The city has a lot to offer, and the funds to buy anything you don’t want to trade for.” She turns on the full force of her smile, hoping it would have the same dazzling effect on him that it had on the other men she traded with. “You know me, I would never cheat you.”

Zovran stares back at her, his frown slowly replaced with a smile. Then, a rumbling laughter bursts from his mouth. “Some of my biggest losses came when your father said those exact same words to me, and with that same smile on his face.”

Jessabelle opens her mouth to protest, but Zovran puts a hand on her shoulder. “Some of my biggest fortunes too. Your father really had a nose for such things. It’s good to see that the talent hasn’t died out. Your brothers just don’t have the spark.”

Jessabelle’s eyes go hard. “My brothers. You’ve seen them recently?”

“They arrived in Avonford years ago, flush with funds.” Zovran says. “In memory of your father I put them in contact with some families in need of financial aid. They are both married now, and in line to become Barons in the future.”

Zovran scratches his head. “Actually, they said you’d settled down and married some man in some village. How is that?”

Jessabelle clamps down on the anger rising within her, her voice going cold. “I’d done no such thing. Those two…” She takes a moment to get herself under control again. “They took everything, the day of the funeral, leaving me nothing at all. I barely scraped together what I needed to get by. To find out they were buying their way into titles and living the high life...”

Zovran’s face darkens as he listens to her story. “Those two snake-tongued schemers… I should have known better than to believe you’d just settle down in some village.”

Jessabelle smiles at him, grateful for his words. “Don’t worry yourself. I’ve moved on.”

Zovran nods too, then turns back to Lord Reud. “As for your request, Viscount Reud, I’m not sure how much help I can be. I trade in luxuries, not in the raw materials you will need for your endeavour. However, tomorrow evening I am holding a ball. There you will be able to make the contacts you need, and with a few drinks in their bellies they will be much more receptive to such a scheme.”

Lord Reud smiles and bows his head in thanks. “In that case, we will not impose on you any further, but return tomorrow.”

Zovran holds up his hands. “No, that won’t do! Please, accept my hospitality. It has been too long since I saw Jess, and it would be nice to have some company. This old place can get quite lonely.”

Lord Reud bows his head again. “The offer is most generous, and we would be honoured to accept.”

Zovran lets out another booming laugh, clapping Lord Reud on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! Come, you must tell me everything about this new city of yours.”