Chapter 1077 - 1076: The First Merchant’s Thoughts

By the time Simon and the sisters were dressed and ready to leave, almost two hours had gone by.

And more than an hour was used in the bathroom, with majority of it being the trio having sex once again.

They parted at the end of the corridor. Seraya and Neris went to meet their mother, while a maid guided Simon toward Zarven’s office.

"Mother will ask why we took so long," Seraya murmured.

"Well, I’m sure she’ll know and understand," Neris replied with a slight giggle.

Simon left them to it.

The maid led him across a glass bridge and into a quieter wing of the residence. Clerks passed carrying ledgers and sealed cases. Unlike the servants in the guest quarters, most looked too occupied to do more than bow briefly.

They stopped before a dark wooden door.

"The First Merchant’s office, honored guest."

The maid bowed and withdrew.

Before Simon could knock, a voice reached him.

"Come in, Blackmoon."

He opened the door and entered, and the moment he did, his steps slowed down considerably.

The office was larger than he expected, with tall windows overlooking the harbor. Golden frames divided the view into three broad sections, each showing ships moving through the dark water.

A polished desk occupied the center of the room. Its surface held neatly arranged documents, a crystal inkpot, and a set of small golden scales.

Shelves rose along both walls, filled with ledgers whose leather covers bore different merchant seals. Several locked cabinets stood between them.

Behind Zarven hung a vast map. Fine silver lines connected ports and cities, with small colored gems marking particular routes.

Simon glanced at the view again.

"You’ve chosen a good place to work."

"Some days, I hardly notice it."

Zarven set down his pen and gestured toward the cushioned chair opposite him.

"Please, have a seat."

Simon sat.

The First Merchant regarded him with a light smile.

"Did you rest well?"

Simon briefly remembered the blade that had been hovering above his head that morning.

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Pretty much."

"Good."

Zarven chuckled and reached for the tea service beside his desk.

"My daughters seem determined to make sure you enjoy your stay."

"They’ve been very..." he thought of the word to use. "... generous."

"So I’ve heard."

Simon watched him pour.

There was no displeasure in his expression. If anything, he seemed pleased by how quickly his family had grown comfortable around their guest.

But Simon doubted that was all he was thinking about.

He had told Zarven why the Sovereign sent him here.

A test to become his sixth disciple.

If he passed, his position in the Abyss would change considerably. Perhaps he might even become a candidate to succeed the Sovereign one day.

That was a distant possibility, not something he could take for granted.

Still, even without succeeding him, a disciple of the Abyss Sovereign would hardly become an insignificant figure unless something went terribly wrong.

To the First Merchant, a lasting friendship with such a person would be valuable.

The Daegrins already had an agreement with the Abyss. They provided treasures and received protection.

A personal connection could offer more than that.

Someone who would listen to them because he knew them, rather than because an agreement required it.

Someone whose influence might eventually reach far beyond the six great kingdoms.

Simon accepted the cup.

"Thank you."

Zarven nodded.

He noticed how carefully Blackmoon watched him.

The young Daemon was thinking and that was good sign to him.

Zarven preferred that to someone who accepted every kindness without considering why it was offered.

He also had his own reasons for being cautious.

Blackmoon was not yet the Sovereign’s disciple.

And he was not the first person connected to that position to enter this residence.

One of the Sovereign’s disciples had visited before.

Zarven remembered the meeting clearly.

The disciple had sat across from him, looked around the office, and spoken of the Daegrins’ wealth as though it were already his.

He wanted them beneath him.

Their discoveries would be offered to him first. Their merchants would serve his interests. A portion of their earnings would become his tribute.

In return, they would receive the honor of belonging to him.

Protection had been mentioned too.

Protection the Abyss was already obligated to provide under their existing agreement.

Zarven’s fingers tightened around his cup.

The arrogance had been almost more offensive than the demands.

The disciple hadn’t approached him as someone seeking an arrangement. He had spoken as though Zarven’s only task was to recognize his good fortune and agree.

An inferior demon receiving a Daemon’s attention should have been grateful.

That was the impression he had made little effort to hide.

Zarven had refused.

Politely.

Remembering how polite he had been still irritated him.

Across the desk, Blackmoon lowered his cup.

"Is something wrong?"

Zarven relaxed his grip.

"No. Just an unpleasant memory."

"I hope I haven’t reminded you of someone."

"Not particularly."

That earned a faint smile.

The difference between the two visitors was already noticeable.

Blackmoon had respected his wife, spoken easily with Tavian, and listened to his daughters without dismissing them. He had endured Darik’s insults without demanding compensation or using his connection to the Abyss to threaten the family.

Darik had managed to disgrace himself without any help.

That boy would require another conversation.

Later.

Zarven had also received reports during the tour. He knew which shops his daughters had visited and how their guest had behaved.

Even the incident with the fruit seller had reached him.

Blackmoon had apologized to a demon.

Such a small thing.

Yet Zarven found it easier to believe that gesture than a carefully prepared speech about friendship.

There was an opportunity here. He would not pretend otherwise.

A close connection to a future disciple could give the Daegrins more influence when the Abyss considered matters affecting their people. In time, they might take part in decisions currently made without them.

Their ambitions need not end at being wealthy merchants who paid stronger beings to keep them safe.

But Blackmoon had arrived only yesterday.

Zarven would not mistake a promising beginning for certainty.

He wanted to see how the young Daemon handled responsibility. Whether he listened when an advice displeased him. Whether his courtesy survived once he no longer needed anything from them.

His daughters liked him.

That mattered, but it did not answer every question.

As for marriage, he would not bring it up yet till he observed Blackmoon the more.

But it was what would bind their family to the Abyss more than their current agreement.

Many powerful families grew through several marriages. He had chosen differently, spending his time building his business, strengthening Vhal-Sar, and raising the four children he already had.

Four were quite enough to keep him occupied.

Especially one particular son.

He set his cup down.

For now, he would give Blackmoon time.

"The four protectors have replied," Zarven said.

Simon’s attention sharpened immediately.

"They’re ready to meet me?"

"Today, yes."

"Where?"

"The Harbor Watch Hall, on the southern terrace. It overlooks the routes our ships use."

Simon recalled the buildings above the harbor.

"Will all four be there?"

"Not at once. Two will meet you while the other two remain at their posts. Then they’ll exchange places."

That made sense.

Yesterday, Zarven had warned him that the defenses couldn’t be left unattended simply to arrange introductions.

"You’ll speak with all four," the First Merchant continued. "It may take longer, but they would rather do it properly than divide their attention between you and the sea."

"When can I meet two of the protectors?"

"As soon as you’re ready. Once I send word, they should be there within half an hour, provided nothing happens outside The Wall."

"I’m ready now."

Zarven’s brows rose slightly.

"No other preparations?"

"I came here to assist them. I should find out what they need before deciding what to prepare."

The First Merchant nodded.

"I’ll have someone take you there. They’ve been told about your identity and the Sovereign’s instructions."

"Then that should save us another misunderstanding."

Zarven smiled.

"I would hope so."

Simon finished his tea.

At last, he would meet the four Daemons.

He wanted their assessment of The Dominion, especially the one controlling those sea beasts. Reports were useful, but they couldn’t replace speaking to someone who had fought the enemy.

"Thank you for arranging it."

"You’re here to help our city. The least I can do is make sure you reach the right people."

Zarven moved a sealed document away from his elbow.

Then he paused.

His attention had settled on Simon’s hand.

"There’s one more thing."

Simon looked at him.

"What is it?"

The First Merchant pointed at the Miser’s Ring.

"May I ask where you got that ring?"