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Chapter Sixty-One | Book 2

  I couldn't help but think that I should have confronted Baron Swiftwood a long time ago. He had tried to steal my recipes, had hired a snooty cook who had looked down his nose at me, and had even sent men to my tavern to scare away my patrons. Through it all, I had tried to keep my cool and act like an adult. But if I'm being honest, a part of me wanted to see Frostfire burn the Baron's home. Just a little bit. Maybe stomp on the roof a few times.

  The dragon turned her head to fix one large eye on the baron. Her tail swished back and forth across the ground, leaving shallow grooves in the dirt.

  The baron stumbled forward, his mouth opening and closing several times before words finally emerged.

  "What—what is the meaning of this?" he sputtered, pointing a trembling finger at Frostfire. "What on earth is going on here? Is that a—a dragon? In my yard? This is preposterous!"

  "Baron Swiftwood," I said, keeping my voice calm. "As I mentioned before, I just want to talk."

  "Talk? Talk?" The baron's voice rose an octave. "You say talk while standing next that beast? Are you here to destroy my home? There's not much to ruin, and I hope you're happy about that."

  "You hope I'm happy? I don't even know what you're talking about." I blew out an exasperated sigh. "Can we talk man to man for a few moments?"

  The Baron looked between the dragon and me. "I suppose. Yes. What have I to lose?"

  I turned to Frostfire. "Would you mind giving us some privacy?"

  Frostfire tilted her massive head. "Of course, Varix," she rumbled. "I shall remain close should you require my assistance." She stretched her wings and the movement caused the baron to stumble backward.

  With powerful beats of her wings, Frostfire lifted into the air. The gust nearly knocked both of us over. She soared upward, then banked sharply to circle the perimeter of Everspring.

  "Baron Swiftwood," I said, dusting off my clothes. I glanced at his guards, who were in an equal state. They lowered weapons and moved away from the wall they'd been plastered to, thanks to Frostfire's wings. "Could we go inside? This conversation would be better had in private."

  The baron’s appearance struck me now that I stood closer. His normally immaculate clothing hung wrinkled on his frame. Several days' worth of stubble covered his chin. His hair stuck out at odd angles. It appeared to be unwashed and unkempt. Dark circles rimmed his lower lids. It looked like he hadn't been sleeping.

  "Baron?" I prompted.

  He snapped his attention back to me. "Yes, yes. Come in. I haven't had visitors in... well, some time. It's a bit of a mess."

  I followed him through the mansion's entrance. The foyer opened into what must have once been an impressive great room, but now stood nearly empty. Rectangular clean spots marked the walls where paintings must have once hung. Two single chairs and a small table occupied one corner. The massive fireplace stood cold and empty.

  Bookshelves lined one wall, but most stood bare. The few remaining books looked lonely against the empty wood. Dust outlines showed where dozens—perhaps hundreds—of volumes had once sat.

  I stopped in the center of the room, unable to hide my shock. "Baron, this is..."

  "A disgrace? Yes, I am quite aware." He shuffled to the lone chair but didn't sit.

  "What happened here?" I asked.

  The baron's shoulders slumped. His usual pompous demeanor crumbled.

  "I suppose you're here to gloat. Well, go ahead. I won't stop you, Mr. Vel'Naris." His voice sounded small in the empty room.

  I hadn't realized my shoulders had been tense. I lowered them and felt pity.

  "I have to be honest. I wanted to come here and confront you. Yell at you and demand to know why you've been so difficult. Why have you tried to run me out of business? Did you know the tavern guild has plans to shut down the Shadow's Respite in three days? Wait, no. Two days now."

  "Oh dear. Oh dear. Things really have gone too far… I..I." The baron sputtered and ran out of syllables. I waited for him to continue, but he just stood there, looking lost.

  "Baron, what's going on here?" I asked, gesturing to the barren walls. "This isn't just about my tavern, is it?"

  Before he could answer, a shaky female voice called from somewhere deeper in the mansion. "Bertram? Bertram, is someone here?"

  The baron's face fell, and a profound sadness washed over his features. His shoulders slumped even further, if that was possible. "I'll be with you in just a moment, my love," he called back, his voice suddenly gentle. He turned to me with an apologetic look. "I should check on her."

  "If you need to take care of something, I can wait."

  The baron looked absolutely crestfallen. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and sank into one of the chairs. "No, Mr. Vel'Naris. I owe you honesty, at the very least." He took a deep breath. "The truth is, I've gotten myself deeply into debt. The tavern purchase and several unwise investments have completely sunk my finances."

  I remained quiet.

  "I thought if I ran you out of business, the Wandering Boar would attract more customers. I needed the money for..." He paused and swallowed hard. "For my wife. She fell ill several months ago. I've spent a fortune bringing in healers from across the realm, but nothing has worked."

  I let out another heavy sigh. I'd been angry before. Now, I just felt sympathy. "What's wrong with her?"

  "A malady of unknown origin," he said, his voice cracking. "It started with fatigue and fever. Then came the coughing fits that left blood on her handkerchiefs. Her appetite vanished. The healers are baffled—they've never seen anything like it."

  The floorboards creaked behind us. I turned to find a woman standing in the doorway. She clutched the frame for support.

  My breath caught in my throat. The baroness was a shell of a person. Her nightgown hung from her frame and dwarfed her figure. Patches of her scalp showed through thinning hair. Her cheeks were hollow, and her skin was as pale as parchment. She looked like she might crumble if touched.

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  "Bertram? Who is our guest?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  The baron rushed to her side. "Melisant, you should be resting. Let me help you back to bed."

  "I heard voices. It's been so long since we've had company." She offered me a weak smile.

  The baron gently took her arm. "This is Mr. Vel'Naris. We're discussing some business matters. I'll bring you some tea in a moment."

  He guided her back through the doorway with tender care.

  When he returned minutes later, his face was drawn with worry.

  "All I did, I did for love," he said quietly. "Looking back now, I feel foolish for my actions against you."

  "How bad is it?" I asked. "The debt, I mean."

  The baron sank back into his chair. "Over twenty-five thousand gold. I never should have bought The Wandering Boar because it simply ended up adding to my debt." He laughed bitterly. "I've tried to sell it, but no one is interested in my asking price. I've lowered it several times, but there have been no takers. The irony doesn't escape me—I tried to drive you out of business, and now I'm the one facing ruin. It is not easy for one to admit they were wrong. For that, I am sorry."

  I crossed my arms and considered the baron and his wife's predicament while I tapped my chin with one finger. Nothing had prepared me for this. I had expected a heated confrontation, but nothing had prepared me for the state of the baron’s estate, nor his wife.

  The look on his face as he glanced in the direction of his wife's room reminded me of something. The day I had learned that Elixander wasn't mad at me for having a relationship with his daughter. It had instead concerned potential pain she would feel when she outlived me. The way he had stared at his aging wife was the same way the baron now stared in the direction of his wife.

  She coughed in the other room, but it quickly subsided. Swiftwood called out, asking if she was alright. Her voice came back, shaky, but assured him she was fine.

  The baron cleared his throat. "Melisant used to set up a small stall at the market, not to sell anything, but to teach children how to make paper birds. She'd spend hours folding paper with them, showing such patience. Parents would try to pay her, but she'd refuse, saying their children's smiles were payment enough. She had a way of making each child feel special. Now her hands shake too much to fold even the simplest of shapes. She is the only thing I care about. I will sell my estate and all of my holdings just to extend her life a little more and to make her feel like herself for one more day."

  "Baron. Look. Um…" I trailed off as I tried to find the right words. "I might be able to help. You probably already know this, but my girlfriend is Seraphina Brightstar. Her father, Elixander, is a very powerful mage."

  "Yes. I am aware of them both."

  "Now, Elixander isn't much of a healer, in his words. But he has a lot of friends. I'm not promising anything, but I can speak to him. Maybe he knows someone who can help. I met two of his friends. A pair of forgepriests named Dagor and Durrick. I understand they are excellent healers."

  The baron sat forward. "What? Why would you do this for me after everything I have done to you? Is this a ploy to steal the Wandering Boar?" As he finished speaking, his words had grown hot.

  I shook my head. "I'm offering to help because everyone deserves a chance at life. If there is a possibility she can be healed, then why not take it?"

  The baron's shoulders slumped and he ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

  "I apologize for my outburst," he said. "Your offer is generous, especially after how I've treated you." He sighed deeply. "The Wandering Boar has been nothing but trouble. I've poured gold into renovations, staff, and supplies, but it hasn't turned a profit. Not even close."

  I pulled the other wooden chair out from under the table. It scraped across the floor. It creaked under my weight as I sat down; one leg being slightly shorter than the others made it creak further. Water rings and knife marks had marred the table surface between us.

  "I hate to admit this, but I wish someone would take it off my hands," the baron continued, his gaze fixed on the table's scarred surface. "The place has become an anchor around my neck."

  His posture remained stiff, but something in his expression had softened.

  "What would happen if someone were to buy the tavern from you?" I asked.

  The baron straightened slightly. "It would change everything. I could start paying back my creditors. The bank might actually speak to me again." He gave a humorless laugh. "I could even afford more healing for Melisant. Your offer for help is generous, but I don't know how I can ask you to go to such lengths. I have been terribly troublesome to you, Mr. Vel'Naris."

  I shook my head gently, more at myself than anything else. I couldn't believe what I was about to do. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the leather pouch the king had given me. My fingers found two of the king's coins, and I placed them on the table between us.

  "I'll offer these for the Wandering Boar," I said firmly. "This isn't a negotiation, baron. You can take the money, or not."

  The baron's mouth fell open. His face froze in shock as he stared at the coins. They gleamed in the dim light, tiny gems worked around the outside, and King Alister's face etched into the metal with remarkable detail.

  "These are... real?" He sputtered, reaching out with trembling fingers to pick up one coin. He examined it closely, turning it over in his palm. "These are real. Why are you doing this? The money is a fortune."

  It was. Quibble had informed me that each was worth ten thousand gold.

  I waved my hand dismissively. "Just take the money, and I'll take good care of the tavern."

  The baron picked up the second coin and clutched both in his left hand. His right hand, trembling visibly, reached across the table toward me.

  We shook once, briefly, then broke our grip.

  He let out a single sob, pressed his hand against his forehead, and lowered his head.

  "Thank you, Varix," he whispered. "Thank you from the bottom of my heart."

  "We'll have Roland Hightown finalize the documents in the next few days. Okay? I can't stay much longer. I need to check on the Shadow's Respite and then return to the capitol."

  "Oh! Oh dear." Swiftwood shot to his feet. "I do apologize. I have a wedding invitation around here somewhere. It's for the king's…"

  "I have a new one," I said, gesturing for him to sit back down.

  "Ah. I see. Yes."

  "Now, can you call off the tavern guild?"

  "Oh, dear. Yes, of course. I shall have word sent immediately."

  "Will it reach them in time?"

  "It should. I will also craft a letter you can deliver to the guild. They will understand that the tavern is an upstanding location worthy of the guild."

  "Works for me." I stood up and told the Baron, "I should get going. When I'm back in Crownforge, I will ask about getting help for your wife. What can you tell me about her symptoms?"

  The baron rose and went into the other room. He returned with a piece of parchment and handed it to me. It contained a list of Melisant's maladies written in legible script. "I have sent a copy of this to many healers, seeking answers."

  "Great. Like you said regarding the guild, I'll get this into the right hands." I didn't mean it to sound like a threat, but I would have to change tactics if the baron pulled anything.

  The baron looked like he wanted to hug me. I needed to get out of there before it got any more uncomfortable.

  "Mr. Vel'Naris, you've accomplished far more for me than I deserve, and I stand indebted to you. I must strive to govern this region with greater wisdom. For quite some time now, I've permitted myself to transform into a person I can scarcely face in my own reflection." His voice wavered with what seemed like authentic regret, but I couldn't miss the subtle aristocratic edge that clung to each syllable.

  "Yeah. About that," I said and I reached into the pouch again and pulled out my shiny new emblem. "You're now in kind of a co-ruler situation."

  "What? What? What in blazes?" The baron once again sputtered.

  "Look, I didn't ask for it, but King Alister is not a man easy to turn down. I'm glad we buried the hatchet, baron. That's an old saying where I come from."

  The baron's face grew bright red as he stared at the Lord Commander badge.

  After a moment that stretched far too long, Swiftwood blew out a breath he'd been holding. "I can't for the life of me figure out why you didn't show this to me first and make demands. You would have been well within your rights."

  "Well, baron, in my experience, the best deals are made when both parties are willing, not when one's being threatened. Though I admit, having a dragon as backup didn't hurt."

  "She is quite impressive. I don't suppose I could…"

  I winked and said, "Well, you did call her a beast, but I'll see what I can do."

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