Ice cream was selling like…well, ice cream on a hot day to people who’d never had it before. Hadiin and Marian both worked the stall, turning ice cream cones into silver coins as fast as they could.

Alessabell and Dalton returned an hour after opening for business. She joined Marian at the stall while Dalton found himself a wooden club and hovered around the wagon full of ice cream and profits, giving a dangerous look to anyone who approached too closely.

This freed up Hadiin to run to the Merchants Guild and arrange for the auction.

The woman at the Services counter was thrilled to assist him. “Of course, sir! Four-thirty this afternoon? We’ll have a raised platform set up for you. Might I also take the time to contact a few parties who might be interested in bidding?”

He smiled. “That would be fantastic. The more, the merrier.” He ran back to the stall and replaced Alessabell, who went to look for food, as none of them had had lunch yet. Hadiin felt himself flagging hard without fuel on top of the lack of sleep. Still, he was having fun. It was a bright and sunny day and he was giving out treats and making people happy. And there were some customers who could just put a smile on his face.

A little girl had been waiting in line with her three friends. They were all about five years old. Only the top of her hair reached the table. She reached up, as far as she could, and dropped four dirty, sweaty silver coins on the tabletop. Then she looked up with huge, round eyes and spoke very politely and seriously. “Four screams pwease.”

He looked down at the four coins, then at the four quiet, earnest, and absolutely adorable children gazing up at him in shy hope of receiving these amazing sweets that they’d no doubt heard so much about.

The ones being sold for four silver—each.

The little girl stood there, fingers on the table, patiently blinking up at him. The boy immediately behind her looked worried they’d be turned away and that it would be the worst thing he could possibly imagine.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Marian, standing next to him, snorted and giggled, unable to contain herself. “Oh gosh. That’s the cutest thing ever!”

Hadiin bowed his head to the little girl. “What flavours would you like?”

The girl froze and looked scared. She obviously had no idea there were different flavours or what to pick.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. He winked at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” He looked at all four mini customers. “Think you kids can share?”

They obediently nodded like the good little children they were.

Hadiin heaped a huge serving of apple ice cream onto a waffle cone, about three times what he normally gave out, then handed it over the counter. “This one is apple.”

Eyes opened wide and little jaws dropped. A boy in overalls and a red shirt clumsily stepped forward and took the dessert with reverence, as if terrified of dropping it.

Hadiin gave them each a similar cone for pear, mint, and rose, the last to the girl. “Now, each one is different. So make sure you all share with each other, ok? And don’t run. Find someplace out of the way to sit down and eat it right away.”

Four little heads nodded in awe and then the children very slowly walked away, giving everyone else a wide berth.

Hadiin’s next customer strode up. He looked about forty, was decently dressed, and had ink stains on his hands. “So…it’s one silver now, right?” He slid a single coin onto the table. “For a big cone?”

Hadiin gave him a level stare. “Sure. If you can match their level of adorable innocence and tell me that the memory of this ice cream is going to stay with you for life.”

The man hesitated, then his shoulders slumped. He handed over three more silver and accepted a regular ice cream cone.

Nearing their third hour of sales, Hadiin looked up after putting yet four more silver into a used bucket.

A large, self-confident man stood in front of him. He had the look of someone formerly very muscular, but who was developing a swelling beer belly due to living life a little too well recently. He was middle-aged, his blond hair professionally styled, and he wore a fine suit of blue and tan clothes that no doubt cost more than anyone else in line could ever afford. He had gold rings on multiple fingers and a longsword at his side with a ruby in the pommel.

Three men standing around and behind him could only be described as thugs, though definitely of the higher-quality kind that one would officially label ‘personal guards’.

“Afternoon, sir. My name is Gregor Weesely. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.” He had a knowing smile, a gravelly voice. His eyes appreciatively studied the pot of silver sitting between Hadiin and Marian before roaming over the cleavage that Marian was adept at flashing each time she bent over to hand out a cone, and then his gaze came to rest on Hadiin, studying him.

Hadiin nodded. “Hi. What flavour?”

“Oh, I’m not here to try one.” He waved the idea away as if it was ridiculous. “I don’t like sweets.”

“Then, how can I help you?”

“I’m here to buy the recipe.” He stated this as if it were a certain fact, a matter of course, not in any way a negotiation.

Hadiin felt a bit riled at the man’s rude assumption but remained polite. “Ah, of course. We’re holding an auction today at four-thirty. The winner will get the recipe and exclusive sales for two weeks starting tomorrow. And, just before that, at four, we’ll be selling the recipe to anyone who wants it, to be delivered after the exclusivity period ends.”

Gregor smirked. “I don’t think you understand. I’m here to buy the recipe now, with permanent exclusivity. I have no interest in going through an auction or sharing the recipe with anyone else. One hundred gold.” He waved one of the thugs forward. “More than fair.”

The personal guard, dressed in black leather armour, deposited two hefty bags of coins on the stall table.

Those in the line and crowd behind him gasped at the sum. Even Marian lurched and almost dropped the cone she was giving out.

But Hadiin studied the man in front of him without answering right away. From what he could see, this Weesely fellow was arrogant and entitled and rich. A noble? A well-to-do merchant? He seemed to be used to getting whatever he wanted and bullying was evidently one of his primary business strategies, no doubt backed up by the three stone-faced guards around him and the swords that everyone was carrying.

Now, a hundred gold was a lot of money. And if Hadiin did try to haggle at this point, the buyer might give in and go as high as a hundred and fifty, as long as Hadiin didn’t press him too hard and allowed Weesely to feel dominant. Because that was what tactics like this were about: power. The arrogant buyer wanted it and he wanted to take it from others.

Hadiin, on the other hand, saw himself as a very different kind of man, a different kind of merchant altogether. Was he willing to be a bit unscrupulous at times? Like secretly using monster slime as a food ingredient or leaving a spy tied up in the woods and at the mercy of monsters? Sure.

But Hadiin prided himself on two things: being a gentleman, and having style. If nothing else, his magnificent mustache was proof of the latter. And everything about Weesely rubbed him the wrong way.

Maybe it was instinctive. Maybe he didn’t like feeling threatened as he did business. That wasn’t very sporting.

Hadiin thought about why someone was willing to butt in an hour before the recipe went on sale and throw out a big number in public like that. Surely it meant that they believed the recipe was worth a lot more than one hundred gold. Indeed, any merchant would want to make as much profit as possible. So, assuming there were other financially able buyers out there, Hadiin could expect more at auction than he’d get right now from this snob.

So it was with financial ambition and gentlemanly disdain that he turned the offer down. “I’m sorry. I’m committed to the sale and the auction. You’ll have to try your luck there.”

Weesely looked surprised and a bit offended. “You’d turn down a hundred gold, just like that?”

“I believe I just did,” he answered calmly, though his tone was not reflected in the hurried pace his heart was beating. He ignored the way Marian was kicking him and trying to get his attention.

Weesely’s eyes narrowed and his lips twisted in a sly smile. “Perhaps you’re new in town. You don’t know who I am?”

“I am new. And no, I’ve never heard of you.” Hadiin shrugged. “If you could step to the side, please, you’re holding up these good people who are looking to buy a cone.”

A hint of a frown creased the other man’s brows and he didn’t budge. “A hundred and twenty-five gold. That’s rather generous.”

A jump of twenty-five gold just like that? Interesting. “I think the fairest thing to do is to have an auction. It’s already booked. The Merchants Guild and a lot of other interested buyers are expecting us. I’d hate to disappoint everyone.”

All amusement vanished. A hand dropped to the hilt of the sword at his waist and the ruby pommel glinted. “I rather think you should be a little warier of disappointing me.”

The thugs at his side edged forward.

A circle of silence spread out like ripples in a pond, quieting those in line and even beyond. More people stopped their shopping or selling in Market Street and turned to give the scene their attention.

Hadiin stared at him for a long second and then laughed. “Are you serious? Are you some two-bit gangster or something? This is hilarious.” He laughed some more and then looked around. “Is this a prank? Are you guys actors or something?”

The muscles in Weesley’s jaw flexed and he gave an involuntary and nasty smile. “Are you mocking me?”

Yes, he was. Out of the corner of his eye, Hadiin saw Dalton, club in hand, back up a step. He couldn’t blame the man. It was one thing discouraging casual theft of the coins in the wagon and quite another going up against pros with real weapons.

Alessabell spotted something and ran off with intent.

Hadiin followed the direction she was running with his eyes and spotted a pair of town guards ambling along.

He sighed and spread his hands in front of Weesely, trying to master his nerves. “Look, I’m the only one who knows how to make this stuff,” he lied, hoping to protect the others. “And I’m not scared of you. You can either drag me off in front of all these witnesses and torture me for the recipe, or just show up at the auction in an hour and buy it fair and square like anyone else.” Actually, the not being scared part was also a lie.

Weesely stared him in the eye for a good half minute. Then he relented. “I used to be an adventurer. Well known in these parts. It’s how I got my start. So I can respect a show of bravery in the face of overwhelming odds. This time.” He admired Marian’s body once more and then turned on his heel and pushed his way through the crowd.

Hadiin relaxed in relief.

One of the thugs retrieved the bags of coin before following.

Marian grabbed him by the arm and hauled him back from the stall so that she could quietly hiss in his ear. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What?”

“You turned down a hundred gold?”

“Yes. If he’s willing to offer that much now, we’ll probably get more at auction.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Then I made a mistake.”

“Not just one.” Her nails dug into his arm. “I agreed to help you and to be the muscle. But that does not mean I’m going up against guys like him and his personal army!”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that.”

“You’d better hope not. Or you’re going to be on your own.” She released him and spun back to the counter. She flashed a smile to the customers waiting. “Who’s next?”

Hadiin needed a couple of moments to collect himself. He’d become a merchant to live the easy life. Where’d all this danger come from?

He watched Marian serving ice cream. He’d never seen her this angry. He just hoped that he could ride things out and that everything would go as wished for.

They had so much ice cream made that, for the last hour, Hadiin recruited Alessabell to help give it out as well. He even sent Dalton with a bucket of mint dessert to the gate as a thank you to the guards for this morning. And a second bucket went to the Merchants Guild to give out to their staff. It couldn’t hurt to try to earn a little goodwill. Even still, they barely sold the last of their ice cream before the four o’clock deadline.

Staff from the Guild ran across the street and it took two trips to carry all the silver coins to the bank. They weren’t thrilled that the coins were sticky from being in the used ice cream containers but a quick spell took care of that. Magic was handy that way.

Just after four, Hadiin climbed up onto a low stage in the section of the Guild foyer used by bulk sellers; it put him head and shoulders above everyone else. About a hundred people crowded around the little platform, many probably just here to watch, but hopefully buyers and bidders had come as well.

He raised his hand for attention. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! Thank you so much for coming. As you are all no doubt aware, we are here today to give you the secret to our wonderfully delicious new invention: ice cream.”

More and more people entered the Guildhall and streamed towards the crowd. Weesely and his men were among them. Marian, Alessabell, and Dalton quietly stood behind Hadiin, looking nervous.

Hadiin wasn’t as nervous anymore. He felt like he was in his element, like this whole merchant lifestyle had been the right pick, after all. A tingling excitement ran through him, a thrill of anticipation at the money he might make today. The public-speaking portion felt like a challenge that he wanted to rise up to.

He spoke loudly, over the noise of those around him, drawing them into his words. “There will shortly be an auction for the recipe, including the secret ingredient which is the very key to making this ice cream possible.”

“Is it magic?” someone shouted.

“Is it expensive?” another called.

He was prepared for that. He beckoned over everyone’s heads and a female Guild staff member jogged over from the Services counter and joined him on stage.

She bowed to the crowd. “Hello, everyone. I’m a member of the Merchants Guild. I have here a truth stone to be used to verify the claims made regarding the recipe.” She held it for all to see. It was a cut gem about the size of the end of one’s thumb. “If the stone lights up red, a lie is detected. If the stone lights up white, truth is told.”

The stone flashed white.

Heads nodded and he saw that many in the crowd did as well. Everyone was familiar with the concept of truth stones, apparently. Hadiin had only learned of them upon speaking to the Guild about the auction: a fascinating and potentially very troubling device. Not that he had any intention of lying. But he would have to take care in how he phrased things and avoid awkward questions.

He smiled at the audience, truth stone in the hand of the young, uniformed woman next to him. “No magic is required to make ice cream,” he clearly stated.

The stone flashed bright white.

The crowd murmured in surprise.

“All of the ingredients are organic, that is to say, they are natural. They are easy to obtain and not expensive at all.”

The stone flashed white again.

This time, surprise was quickly followed by sounds of excitement.

“I promise you that any restaurant or cafe could easily make ice cream for themselves. You could even make it at home.”

White flashed again. It was clear, with not a flicker of untruth nor half-truth.

Exclamations of excitement washed through the room. Hadiin let them talk for a minute, letting interest build. The staff member with the truth stone bowed and stepped away, returning to the Services counter.

He waved his hands for silence. “The auction today will be for exclusive access to the recipe for two weeks. Whoever wins will be able to sell as much ice cream as they can without any competition at all during that period. And that includes from me and my associates.”

Heads bobbed. Things were looking up and up with every statement. Which was how he’d intended it to sound.

“Ice cream sales have been wild these past two days,” Hadiin continued. “I imagine it will become a staple part of any menu. And there’s more to it than just the flavours we’ve been selling. Why you can make it any flavour you want. And you don’t have to serve it plain, either. Ice cream with cake. Ice cream on pancakes or with fruit. A scoop of it in your tea. Ice cream drizzled in chocolate. Now I know chocolate is expensive but just imagine how much the nobility and other rich folks would pay for that kind of treat, hmm?”

That got some laughs and wide eyes as people clued into the possibilities. And the potential profits.

“You know,” Hadiin looked out over the audience and spoke with false wonder, “we served a lot of people here in Belleville the past two days. I can only imagine what would happen if someone with the funding were to take the recipe for ice cream to the big city. Especially if they were the only ones selling it.”

There were a few angry faces and no doubt silent curses from those who had already realized what huge profits such a move would offer, and who would have preferred to bid against people who hadn’t figured out the same. Likewise, there were also looks of epiphany as others only now realized just what might be possible. All in all, visions of gold danced in everyone’s heads.

“Before we get to the auction, however, I’d like to offer the recipe for sale right now to anyone who wants it. You see, I know we might sell the recipe for more if we auctioned off a monopoly but I believe that would be going too far. The truth is, ice cream is such a wonderful creation that we want everyone to be able to enjoy it. So, today, anyone who wants to can buy the recipe for three gold. The recipe will be held here, by the Guild, and in two weeks’ time, after the exclusivity period is over, buyers will be able to pick it up and start making ice cream for themselves.”

“Why would we pay for it if everyone is going to get it eventually?” someone up front asked.

“Because it could still take weeks or even months for the secret to get out,” he answered, very glad the truth stone wasn’t still next to him. “Maybe you decide to wait for the secret to get out on its own. And during that time, the rival cafe down the street is selling ice cream like it’s going out of style and you’ll have missed out on all those profits.” More importantly, he was trying to hedge his bets with pre-sales in case the auction bombed.

There were grudging sounds of acceptance from more than a few corners. Of course, some people were betting on eventually getting the recipe for free. And they would; the secret was too hard to contain. But were they willing to risk losing out on potential revenue in the short term? Hadiin was gambling that they weren’t. Three gold was a low asking price, a small gamble. He had been willing to bet that some people would want to get in early and pay for the chance.

The helpful Guild staff member returned with a clipboard and a line formed. Over a dozen people came forward to give their names and hand three gold over to Marian, who’d been leant a cloth bag to hold it. She looked quite pleased as the bag filled up. When the sale was finished, the staff member took the bag directly to the bank to deposit it.

Hadiin clapped his hands. “Thank you for waiting, everyone. Shall we begin the auction? What am I bid for the recipe for ice cream and two weeks of exclusivity?”

There was silence. No one had any idea of what the recipe might be worth and didn’t want to be the first one to throw a bid out. If they did, it might be too high. Better to wait it out and start the process as low as possible.

He had no patience for that. Nor did he want the recipe going for too little. “Shy, are we?” He fake laughed. “Well, I’ll get things going then. For those of you who haven’t heard, someone already tried to buy the recipe this afternoon. They offered one hundred gold. That guy did, as a matter of fact.” He rudely pointed at Weesely, calculating that the man was known to the people here and that his earlier valuation would hold weight here.

A ripple ran through the crowd. Some were shocked, others annoyed, a few were not surprised.

Hadiin noticed the tax collector from the previous day smoothly join Marian and the others. The man watched the crowd through his round-rimmed glasses, full of interest, hands clasped neatly behind his back.

“Actually,” Marian helpfully spoke up, “when we turned him down, he immediately jumped to a hundred and twenty-five.” Apparently, she’d regained her courage as well.

“Thank you, Marian. So, shall we start things off with a hundred and twenty-five?”

A hand rose. “I’ll bid that.”

“One fifty!”

“One sixty!”

“Two hundred!” Weesely shouted from the back. When heads turned his way, his eyes cut back at them, daring anyone to bid higher.

The tax collector grinned like a shark.

No further bids came. More than a few people looked intimidated by Weesley.

Hadiin wasn’t having that. Weesely might be dangerous, but he was also stopping the bidding process from rising. He pointed at the man. “Sorry, you won’t be allowed to bid. Everyone, please ignore that man.”

“What?” Weesely looked up in angry surprise. “You can’t do that!”

“Yes, I can,” he stated matter-of-factly. “It’s my recipe and I can do whatever I want.”

A few people looked up at him like he was mad to upset the former adventurer-turned-what? Gangster merchant?

It was important that he maintain a facade of being entirely unaffected by the other man and the silent threat of violence. If he evinced courage, it would give others in the crowd the same. He smirked. “I don’t know how things work around here but I think commerce is best conducted without the threat of stabbings being involved, how about you?”

A few dared to laugh at that.

His charisma was proving effective. He pushed it. “Come now. Serious buyers, let’s hear from you. Who wants to exclusively own the hottest product in the market and make a lot of money? And enjoy the fact that that guy isn’t doing the same?” he joked, nodding in Weesely’s direction without looking that way.

This time, the laughter was widespread.

Weesely looked ready to explode. A vein pulsed at his temple.

“I’ll bid two hundred and one!” a man called. And more laughter erupted as the bidder bested Weesely.

“Two fifty!” a woman called out.

“Three!”

“Four!”

“Five hundred gold!”

Hadiin could hardly contain his joy. What an astronomical sum! You could buy a day’s worth of food for a couple of silvers. This was more than most people earned in years of honest work.

Marian stood dumbfounded, her mouth hanging open.

Alessabell was trying to do sums in her head and on her fingers. “Two per… times five… That’s…” She whirled to her husband. “Ten gold!” she quietly screeched and began jumping up and down in her green dress.

Dalton silently laughed and threw an arm around his wife in disbelief at how much their cut would be. It was certainly a lot more than they’d expected to make today when they’d gone to sleep last night.

The tax collector steepled his fingers and looked very pleased.

Hadiin waited about twenty seconds. “Five hundred. Going once? Twice? …sold!”

There was polite applause and a dignified woman of about fifty years of age, in a black and white dress much covered in ruffles, glided forward, snapping a fan open to hide her victorious smile.

Marian’s brain finally kicked back in and she spun in circles, hands over her mouth, happy as a clam.

Weesely stood in the back of the crowd, fuming, and glaring daggers at Hadiin.

He ignored the fool. “Thank you for coming everyone! May you all have a very fine evening!” he called, ending the auction.

Most people began drifting away, talking amongst themselves about the sale, with plenty of excitement over the final bid.

The buyer, a lesser noble but apparently a greater merchant, who happened to be in town from the city today, looked quite satisfied with herself as she negotiated with the Guild to exchange the funds. She gave one of the clerks a discreet thank you for having been alerted to today’s sale. When it came time to hand over the recipe, staff shooed everyone away so that only the buyer and Hadiin stood in a circle alone. The hand holding the fan had a ring with a stone on it.

Hadiin had a clipboard in hand with a tiny piece of paper on it. He wrote down the entire recipe and instructions on how to make ice cream.

From her attitude, she was obviously a mature woman of strength and experience. When she was handed the note and read the list of ingredients, she didn’t bat an eyelash. She did look him in the eye, however. “This recipe for ice cream is complete and accurate in every way?”

“Yes, it is.”

The ring on her finger lit up. She nodded but no longer smiled. With a flick of her fingers, she waved a staff member over, folded the note over, and held it to a candle carried by the staff member. The note burned up and only ash fell to the floor. The buyer gave Hadiin one last look, her emotions unreadable, and then turned away. Perhaps she wasn’t happy to learn what the ingredient was. After all, when the public eventually found out, it could turn into a public relations disaster. Or not, you never knew. People ate all kinds of plants and animals already. Maybe eating slimes would become a thing too.

Her personal guard stepped into her wake. The man was much better dressed and outfitted than Weesely’s goons. There was little chance of the thugs going after her for the recipe.

Marian threw herself at Hadiin and hugged him. “Five hundred!” she squealed in his ear.

Before celebrations could get out of hand, however, the tax collector smoothly stepped in. “Well, that was quite a sale, Master Hadiin. Well done. Now, one must do their civic duty. Let’s see now.” He pulled out a notebook. “Sales of ice cream today… Plus presales of the recipe… And of course, the final auction for five hundred. That’s a total revenue today of five hundred eighty-two gold and thirty-two silver. The tax rate is twenty percent, so that will be one hundred sixteen gold and forty-six silver owed to the town.”

“Oh my gosh,” Marian muttered, slightly deflating.

Alessabell looked stunned. “That’s more tax than wages we’d earn in ten years.”

A slow smile crept over Hadiin’s lips and a rising tide of pleasure actually managed to match the excitement he’d gotten from the sale. He’d been waiting for this. “Actually, that’s incorrect,” he told the man in the glasses.

The tax collecter blinked. “Sorry?”

“Tax on today’s ice cream sales is…three gold and forty-six silver, I believe? There’s no tax on the rest.”

“Excuse me?” the man looked genuinely offended. “Are you actually trying to cheat your way out of your taxes, sir?”

Marian looked like she couldn’t decide if she was more worried or hopeful.

Hadiin’s smile widened. “Not at all. It was very clearly explained to me that there is a twenty percent tax on all goods sold. That man over there told me so.” He pointed at a clerk at the Services counter.

The man flushed a bit as all heads momentarily turned his way, but he nodded in agreement. “That’s correct.”

The tax collector frowned. “Exactly. Which is why you owe—“

Hadiin interrupted him. “On goods sold. I asked specifically about that. But the recipe isn’t a good. It’s intellectual property. And no one’s made any mention of there being a tax on that.”

The tax collector blinked and then sputtered, trying to come up with a reply to deny Hadiin’s argument. “You’d dare ruin your relationship with the town of Belleville and the Merchants Guild over this?”

“You’d dare ruin your relationship with a brand new merchant who went from three gold to almost six hundred in two days and who will likely make many times more than that in the future? Much of which will, indeed, be paid in taxes?”

Surprisingly, it was the Services clerk who came to Hadiin’s defence. He looked at Hadiin without the silent mockery he’d had the first time they’d met. “The argument is accurate. No tax would apply to either the pre-sale of the recipe or to the auction of the recipe.” The slightest hint of a smile formed. “How…impressive.”

“Nonsense!” the tax collector exclaimed indignantly. “I’ll use my [Audit] skill and prove…” Whatever his skill had done once triggered, it evidently, wasn’t providing the answer that the man had hoped for. He slumped and scowled.

Marian screached with delight and hugged Hadiin again, even harder this time. “We’re rich!” She looked up at him with far more respect than she ever had before.

He felt rather proud at that. And more than a little pleased. The money was an excellent win but seeing that look on her face… He blushed a little. “Yes, Marian, we are. Or at least, at this rate, we soon will be.”

She threw back her head and laughed, not letting go of him.

He rather enjoyably hugged her back.

They paid the couple next. Alessabell and Dalton had earned two gold for renting out their kitchen for a few hours and then spending the day helping. They’d earned ten from the action and one gold and thirty silver from the pre-sales. Staring at the thirteen gold sitting in his palms, the manual labourer, who likely earned a few mere silver a day, was stupified. “I’ve never held so much gold at once in my life,” he murmured.

Alessabell’s eyes sparkled. “This will be life changing.”

Hadiin couldn’t resist. He motioned for Alessabell to hold out her hands and, when she’d done so, he deposited another ten gold into her hands. “He shouldn’t be the only one standing around holding that kind of money, should he?”

She looked up, aghast and yet thankful. “You—? Are you…?”

“A gift.” He looked seriously at them both. “And, honestly, a bit of guilt money. I may have told people that I was the only one who knew the recipe. But who knows what others will believe? They may come around asking questions. It might be best if the two of you went on a second honeymoon for a month. By then the secret should be out.”

“We never went on a first!” Alessabell giggled.

Over the moon with Hadiin’s generosity, they expressed their thanks many times and then finally hurried off to deposit their good fortune.

Hadiin put his arm around Marian’s waist. And, to his relief, she didn’t pull away at the intimate contact, allowing their hips to touch. Which was good. Because he had hopes for how to celebrate. “So? The best dinner we can find and rooms at the most expensive inn in town?” He winked and twirled his mustache.

She laughed and agreed.

At dinner, they feasted. And they drank. A lot. And when they eventually stumbled up to their room (Hadiin had secretly booked only one), Hadiin’s hands were all over the young woman’s voluptuous body and her protests were very weak amidst her laughter and excitement.

With rosy cheeks, she let him lead her to the bed and then saw what awaited there. She gasped. “Look at all that gold!”

Hadiin had had inn staff cover the bed with a little more than two hundred and fifty gold coins. “Your share, my dear. Now, didn’t you say that you wanted to swim in gold?”

“Yes!” She dove in, digging her arms into the coins and rubbing her whole body against them. And when Hadiin helpfully offered to remove her clothes so that she could feel the coins on her skin, she did not object at all.