CH660 Afternoon Parley I

***

The next day, Alex quietly left the Fortuna mansion through the hidden tunnels.

He surfaced within a tailor’s shop located on the outer rim of the city, where he changed into something far more formal—a far cry from his usual style of dress.

His familiar roguish noble appearance was gone, replaced by a far more prim, polished, and proper Verdantian noble style—much to his visible displeasure.

’Ah... the sacrifices we make for secrecy and discretion,’ Alex sighed dramatically to himself.

When he stepped out of the tailor’s shop, he found a carriage already waiting for him, and he entered without drawing attention.

The carriage moved quietly through BloodIron’s streets, attracting little notice... at least until it arrived at the Banshee Estate, located within the city’s core district, where he was personally received by the estate’s butler.

The butler led Alex through the estate and into a warm, cosy meeting room.

"The Lady will be with you shortly," the butler said.

He bowed respectfully before quietly leaving the room.

Alex glanced around at the carefully designed space.

The décor created the atmosphere of a private sitting room meant more for close friends and family, rather than the venue for a high-value business negotiation.

’Is the intention to make the other party lower their guard?’ Alex wondered.

’Well, they are a merchant house, so it is hardly surprising. In truth, this is rather tame compared to the other methods they could have used.’

That said, it still gave him a subtle hint about the kind of person he was about to meet.

Alex did not sit. Instead, he walked towards the window and stood there, gazing out over the city below.

Had anyone familiar with both him and Earl Drake Fury been present, they might have mistaken him for his father in that moment.

Alex had unconsciously adopted the exact same posture the Earl often used when standing by the window of his office, overlooking the City of Ashes.

His thoughts were occupied with reviewing the chain of consequences and follow-up moves stemming from the actions he had already set into motion, and so he noticed nothing else around him.

A few minutes later, the door quietly opened.

Through the reflection in the window glass, Alex saw a woman enter the room.

"Greetings, Lady Wintermere," he said as he turned around, his posture perfectly composed.

"And to you, Captain—or perhaps I should say, Young Master Fury," the woman replied, returning the greeting with equal grace.

"Young Master? You jest, my lady. I am merely the leader of a small mercenary company," Alex replied with an easy smile.

"There is no need for the façade, Young Master Fury. I have met many nobles in my life. The poise you carry is not something an impostor can imitate so easily," Lady Wintermere said calmly.

Alex merely maintained his smile, neither confirming nor denying her words.

"Very well, then. I will not pry. I understand you have your reasons, and I do not believe they have anything to do with why we are meeting today," Lady Wintermere continued.

She gestured gracefully towards the two sofas positioned opposite one another across a glass table—a subtle but unmistakable display of wealth.

"Please, let us sit."

Alex nodded, and the two of them took their seats opposite each other.

Almost as though it had been rehearsed, the moment they sat, the door opened and the butler returned, ushering in a maid pushing a cart of refreshments.

Neither Alex nor Lady Wintermere paid them much attention. Instead, both quietly observed and measured one another while the maid arranged the table.

Lady Wintermere appeared to be a woman in her forties—middle-aged, yet carrying herself with effortless elegance. She seemed to wear little to no makeup at all, yet remained strikingly beautiful.

The smoothness and glow of her skin, as well as the refinement of her appearance, made it obvious that she took exceptional—perhaps even strict—care of herself.

Her posture and composure reflected someone raised within noble society.

’No... more accurately, someone who has received top-tier etiquette training for so long that she could pass as nobility without question,’ Alex mused.

The maid finished preparing the table, placing an empty cup before each of them.

"Thank you," Alex said with a polite smile.

The maid blushed faintly and quickly excused herself in silence. The butler also gave a bow before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Lady Wintermere reached for the pitcher and poured a drink for both of them.

To Alex’s mild surprise, it was milk.

Without a word, she gently pushed a second small jar towards him—a jar of honey.

Alex’s eyes flickered briefly.

Lady Wintermere reclined back into her seat and calmly began drinking her milk plain, without adding anything.

Alex studied her for a quiet moment before adding a few spoonfuls of honey into his own cup. Only then did he lean back and take a sip.

Both of them drank in silence for a while, openly sizing each other up, neither side seeming particularly eager to speak first.

Finally, after nearly three minutes of mutual assessment, Lady Wintermere took the last sip of milk from her cup. She placed it neatly onto the saucer in her hand before setting both down upon the table.

Only then did she break the silence.

"You are quite the enigma, Young Master Fury," she said. "Not only did you come alone into the home of a enemy, but you also drank from my hospitality without even the slightest hesitation.

"I can tell that you are neither foolish nor naïve. So what exactly am I meant to make of this? Is it confidence in your ability to leave here unscathed?"

"You could say that."

For the briefest moment, Alex’s eyes flashed crimson.

A flicker of surprise—and something closer to unease—passed through Lady Wintermere’s heart during that instant.

Then Alex suddenly laughed.

"You are thinking far too deeply into this, Lady Wintermere. What enemies? We cannot be described as enemies." He waved his hand dismissively at the very idea.

"At worst, we are competitors. And there is nothing stopping competitors from sharing a drink together."

"From where I sit, competitors can be little different from enemies," Lady Wintermere replied calmly.

"I disagree." Alex shook his head. "For people to become enemies, there must be hatred involved—or some other emotion that makes it personal.

"Business, however, is simply competition. Competition is the natural order of things. We all compete over something. If one loses a competition, then one simply fights better the next time."

He leaned back slightly.

"Treating competition as hostility is a poor way to approach business. After all, just as rivals push professionals and empires to grow stronger, business itself thrives in the presence of a healthy competition."

Alex took the final elegant sip from his own cup before placing it and the saucer back onto the table.

"Competitors are not enemies to be eliminated, but rivals that force growth and prevent stagnation. So in that sense, while we may not be friends... surely we are something closer to unacknowledged allies."

Lady Wintermere remained quiet for a moment, digesting his perspective.

She studied the younger man sitting across from her, then slowly smiled.

"You have a very interesting view on the matter, Young Master Fury. Consider me enlightened," she said. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

"So, to what do I owe this visit?" she asked. "Surely, you did not purchase that many expensive ingots and request a private meeting with me simply to drink milk and exchange philosophical opinions."

"You are right, Lady Wintermere. While I have no doubt you would make for an interesting drinking partner, my reason for coming today is of a far more pragmatic nature," Alex said.

He leaned forward slightly.

"I wish to turn our current relationship as competitors into something... friendlier. I wish to propose an alliance—one I believe would be mutually beneficial for both of us."

Lady Wintermere’s expression did not change.

"If I were to make a guess, would I be correct in assuming this alliance comes with the condition that I sever my connection with Brock Peyton?" she asked.

"Indeed." Alex nodded.

"In that case, I am afraid that would be difficult for me to do. It would be unbecoming of a merchant such as myself to casually discard an existing agreement," Lady Wintermere replied.

"It is the opposite, Lady Wintermere," Alex said calmly. "It is precisely because you are a merchant that you must sever your relationship with Brock Peyton."

That caused her brow to rise slightly.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" she asked.

***