“First of all,” Khalik began, flipping to the beginning of Alex’s proposal. “Understand that these things I am about to tell come from lords beseeching their king, not a subordinate beseeching their boss. The situations are similar, but not equivalent. For example—” He ran his finger down the margin beside the second page. “—your tone in this would not be suitable for a subject addressing their monarch. You are missing the customary toadying, bowing, scraping and sickening compliments that accompany these things in a great effort to avoid…oh what is the Rhinean term for it? Isolde said it once…”

“Lèse-majesté, you mean?” Alex asked.

“Indeed! That is the word: an assault on the monarch’s dignity,” Khalik said. “It is something that must be avoided, even when the king is as easy-going as my father. But yes, you need not worry about buttering up your boss as you would a king.”

“Actually,” Alex chuckled beside the prince. “My first instinct was to throw in as many compliments as possible—maybe some begging, for good measure—but I didn’t think that would set a good precedent for what’s supposed to be a business partnership.”

“Indeed, you are most correct in this.” Khalik nodded. “Which is why proposals delivered to my father from other kingdoms’ ambassadors read decidedly differently in tone. When one ruler is conversing with another, it is important that they show each other respect, but in no way convey deference. It is the same with this.”

He pointed to one of Alex’s sentences. “Here, your language is neutral, yet respectful: which is good for one seeking to craft an equal partnership. However, you have missed one important aspect to your proposal.”

Alex flinched. “What is it?”

“Simply put…hmmm.” The prince flipped to a blank page in Alex’s notebook. “Might I tear this out?”

“By all means.”

Khalik ripped the page from the book and flipped back to the proposal.

“In your proposal, you explain all the benefits of your business plan: you speak of great profits, grand rises in reputation and the speed with which you and Toraka Shale can reach the market if you were to act together quickly.” Khalik wrote each of these points on his sheet of paper. “You also give a good breakdown as to how this will increase the market share of Shale’s Workshop. These are all glorious points. However, you have failed to explain one matter: your capability.”

“Pardon?” Alex cocked his head. “I did that! On page six, I have the schematics for the product and I explain how capable it is! Not to mention that she’s already got an example to look at.”

“Indeed, that is true,” the prince said, “but it is not the product’s capability that you missed out, it is your own.”

“Eh? My own,” Alex paused, confused. “Oh, I’ve already taken care of that. When I negotiated my salary for my new job, I sang my own praises so much that it was almost sickening. She knows what I’m capable of.”

“In general, yes.” The prince nodded. “But! You do not explain why you are uniquely positioned to do these things you speak of in this proposal. You should not only be selling your boss on the idea, you should also be explaining why youare indispensable in its execution.”

“Well, that’s easy to see,” Alex said. “So far, I’m the only one who’s made anything with dungeon core essence…well, that’s not quite true, I guess. Some Thameish crafters made weapons and armour out of dungeon core remains for the Heroes, but I’m the only one who’s made a golem before.”

“Mhm, that is true, but I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

Khalik frowned. “Why are you telling me this? Put it in your proposal. Tell your future business partner why you are capable, and why you are irreplaceable.”

“Oookay, yeah, good point,” Alex noted the point on his own piece of scrap paper. “Anything else you’d suggest?”

“A few things.” Khalik flipped to the proposal’s first page. “You have done an excellent job of explaining how a business partner can be valuable to the project…but you should specify why Toraka Shale would be valuable to the project.”

“Right.” Alex nodded along. “Otherwise it might seem like I’m looking at her as just a generic bag of coins to fund the project.”

“Too right,” Khalik said. “In the case of a lord making a proposition to their monarch, it is about convincing the ruler why something cannot occur without their intervention and royal treasury. After all: everyone and their goat wants the king to open the royal treasury. As for you, you must convey why Shale’s Workshop is indispensable compared to another business.”

“Hmmm,” Alex frowned. “Might not want to lean too heavily into that: I don’t want her to get the impression that she has me over a barrel.”

“That is true, so in this case, you must strike a balance. If you do not show why Shale’s role is significant, then you run the risk she could be insulted or question your future loyalty.”

“Future loyalty?”

“Indeed. What guarantee does she have that you will not immediately dissolve the partnership as soon as you are able and move onto another workshop?”

“Ah yeah, fair point. Fair point,” Alex agreed, making another note. “This is already helping loads.”

“Good! And remember that a compliment to her and her business will put her in a fine mood, and make it more likely that she accepts your idea. Another thing…have you thought of what the current priorities of Shale’s Workshop are as a business?”

“What do you mean? Making money, of course,” Alex said.

“Yes, but how? Through expansion? Through invention? Through driving a rival out of business? Find out what Shale’s most immediate concern and priority is—if you can—and show how this proposal will help that along.”

“Oh that’s bloody great!” Alex said. “It’ll make my idea seem like it has a lot more of an immediate impact. Good thought, there Khalik.”

“I try.” The prince grinned. “As for the rest…I think it can stand on its own. Your…” He glanced at Alex’s shoulder. “...friend helped you most of the way. What I have given you merely serves as the extra spice to enhance an already fine meal.”

“Ah, this is the best,” Alex said. “Don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“That armour will be a good start.” The prince sipped his drink. “And perhaps—if this proposal goes as well as you anticipate—I might ask you for a discount on one of your fine…products.”

The thameish wizard looked at Khalik sharply. “Really? You think you’d order one?”

“Absolutely, one of them would make a kingly gift for my father and mother. So yes, I think I would. And that simply means that—to repay your debt—you must make sure the proposal goes well, then.”

“Yeah!” Alex jotted down his final note for his business plan’s potential revisions. “Well if it does, the first thing I’m going to do is get you so drunk, you won’t be able to walk straight. Seriously, mate, your plan helped me get that dungeon core fast. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

“Hah! Well, it is for my own benefit as well, Alex: your staff might help me avoid a grisly fate in the hells.”

“Oh I don’t think it’ll come to that: we’ll have Baelin’s spell-marks to protect us,” Alex countered.

“And for that I am grateful…but these are demons that we will now battle, not simple muupkaras. Who knows what unexpected dangers we will face. So, I will be more comfortable with your staff complete, and on our side.”

“Right, fair point,” Alex said. “I suppose the only thing to do now is finish this proposal and hope that all goes well. Both at Shale’s, and in the hells.”

“A toast, then.” Khalik raised his goblet. “May your proposal go well so that you will live through our coming battle.”

Alex chuckled wryly, raising his cup. “And—should I die—may my proposal go so well that I can die a rich man!”

“Hah, you can be morose sometimes, but still…well said. Cheers! And may a river of gold fall upon you!”

The two young friends clinked their goblets together.

“Well, then, nothing more to it.” Alex whispered to himself, pacing back and forth in front of Shale’s office. In one hand he clutched a copy of his business proposal—with the original being perfected over several nights and given to Toraka some days earlier—and in the other he held a rather hefty box.

‘I…can carry that for you, father,’ Claygon noted, glancing up from his book.

“It’s alright, buddy, I didn’t grow all these great, big muscles just to let them go to waste, you know,” Alex said, nervously glancing at the door. “Besides, I’m so nervous I might jump out of my skin if I don’t have something to hold onto, I’d—”

His sentence was cut off as the door suddenly opened.

“Alex, you’re early,” Toraka said, blinking in surprise. “I was just about to step into the washroom, how long have you been waiting out here?”

“About ten minutes, maybe,” he lied. Likely, it was closer to twenty or more. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear Claygon coming down the hall.”

“Well, I was busy making some calculations and I have my music golem going a little loudly,” Toraka said, then turned and nodded at Claygon. “Good day to you.”

‘Hello,’ Claygon said mentally while waving at her.

She smiled. “I’ll never tire of seeing that. Anyway, I’ll be right back. You both can go wait in my office. Alex, pour yourself a drink. Strong or not.”

“Oh, I’ll leave the strong stuff for later,” he said. “In case I need it for celebration or…consolation.”

“Well spoken, well, then go and pour yourself some minted water or something. I’ll be back.” She strolled down the hall, leaving Alex and his golem to shuffle into her office.

With shaking hands, Alex poured himself a tall glass of mint water and sank down in a chair before her desk—putting his box down—as Claygon took his place at his father’s side, burying himself in his puzzle book.

Alex shifted nervously, eyeing his business proposal spread open on Shale’s desk. It looked like it had been thoroughly reviewed with several notes scribbled in the margins.

He gulped, praying to the Traveller that all those notes meant good things.

He glanced at the office door then leaned over, trying to figure out what her notes said…but, they were in a language he’d never seen before. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

This was not the time for weakness.

‘Father…’ Claygon said. ‘Are you alright?’

“I am,” Alex said quietly. “Just steadying the heart. Soon we’ll know how this’ll all end up. Being nervous won’t change anything about i—”

He paused, hearing Shale’s footsteps echoing down the hall.

“Time to do or die, Alex,” he muttered.

“You make yourself comfortable?” Toraka stepped into her office, shutting the door behind her. “Ah, I see that you have. And you didn’t start with the strong stuff, after all.”

She rounded the desk, sat in her chair and glanced out the window.

“So, are you enjoying your new home?” She asked, nodding to the bakery across the street.

Alex’s bakery.

A ‘closed for repairs’ sign hung from the door, right above a sign that read ‘under new management’. There was a light on inside: no doubt Troy was in there, cleaning the kitchen and giving it some much needed love after years of neglect.

“Well, I haven’t had too much time to enjoy it yet,” Alex said. “Just working on getting things cleared out, but…got to say,” he nodded to the proposal on the desk, “that’s been occupying just a tad more space in my head.”

“And I can see that,” she said, flipping through the proposal. “Have you ever written one of these before?”

“No, actually, this is my first,” he said.

“Well, you did an excellent job, it reads like it was prepared by someone accustomed to writing dozens of proposals,” Toraka said.

Alex mentally thanked both the Mark and Khalik. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I do. And I have to say, the opportunity to bring golems like Claygon to the market?” She looked up at his golem hungrily. “Well, I find that intriguing.

Very intriguing.”