She reached for a wax tablet and slid it across the table.

  Alyx looked down.

  Numbers. Columns. Routes. Names of ports she recognized and others she did not. Ships listed beside cargo: honey, amber wax, wine, olive oil, cloth dyed green, silver ingots marked with sigils.

  “This,” Vanea said softly, “is the true map of the Reach.”

  Alyx traced a finger along the Honeywine, following it south toward the sea. “You control these flows?”

  “I influence them.” Vanea corrected. “Control is a word for kings and fools.”

  Elissa watched in silence, arms folded.

  “The Reach produces more food than half the realm combined,” Vanea continued. “Grain, fruit, wine, oil. What we do not eat, we sell. What we sell, we tax. What we tax, we protect.” She tapped the table. “Oldtown is the mouth through which all this wealth speaks to the world.”

  Vanea leaned back in her chair, watching Alyx study the tablet.

  “But it does not feed much now, does it?”

  Vanea nodded. “Once, the Honeywine fed Oldtown like a mother feeds a babe. Now the babe has grown, and the mother’s milk is being taxed, threatened, and sometimes stolen outright.”

  She reached out and flipped a parchment, revealing another set of numbers.

  “Redwyne tolls have doubled in three years. Do you know why? Thirteen years ago, Daemon Blackfyre rose in rebellion. The war bled the Reach dry, razing the lands. Hightowers supported both sides and profited using their economic leverage, while many other houses suffered, including House Redwyne. They didn’t openly fight for Blackfyre; but their trade was strangled in tensions with Dorne." She smiled thinly. “Now, the Redwynes wish to squeeze Oldtown to regain their lost gold. They have the largest fleet in Westeros, and they are using it to choke the straits. This strategy fits well to them as they have the largest fleet in Westeros.”

  “And the Ironborn?” Alyx asked, fearful.

  Vanea exhaled through her nose. “Dagon Greyjoy has not declared war. That would be honest. Instead, he allows his captains to be… ambitious. Ships vanish and merchants are panicking about it.” She tapped the table once. “He doesn’t outright raid a coast yet, but it is a matter of time.”

  “There is a war going on here…” Alyx murmured.

  “And I am tired of it.”

  Alyx looked again at the routes. “How do you intend to deal with all this?”

  “What happens when coin doesn’t travel easily, Lady Vendavell? Do you know?”

  Alyx met her eyes steadily. “People start bypassing.”

  Vanea grinned. “Indeed.”

  A moment of quiet tension passed between them. Alyx felt the risk, but remained calm. Robin was nervous. Elissa looked like she barely understood, but there was a hint of thrill in her eyes.

  “The Reach has roads older than the dragons,” Vanea continued. “Riverways, mule paths, moving markets. Grain does not need a ship to reach a mouth. Wine does not need sails to find a cup.” Her eyes never left Alyx. “But land trade requires something the sea does not.”

  “Trust,” Alyx said.

  “Faces,” Vanea said at the same time.

  They regarded one another.

  “A lord can tax a ship and never see its captain again,” Vanea went on. “But a caravan passes through villages. It sleeps in inns and it sells in markets. It must be received. Received well.”

  “You are saying you cannot walk those roads yourself.”

  Vanea smiled — not offended, not defensive. Honest.

  “I am known,” she said simply. “I could not pass unnoticed. And certain men would enjoy reminding me who controls which roads.” She folded her hands. “You, however, are… interesting.”

  Alyx felt the weight of the room shift toward her. “You are literally asking me to smuggle. A noble lady. Smuggling. Is this the grand vision of yours?”

  “It is not smuggling.” Vanea shook her head. “Avoiding extortionate taxes is a duty to one’s purse. I am merely… introducing a new piece to the board.”

  “I cannot believe you brought me here for this.” Alyx frowned, regretting that she hadn’t pressed more for details previously.

  “Lady Alyx,” Vanea’s eyes narrowed, a glint of frustration breaking her calm facade. “Do not make judgment with a child's lack of patience. Please, listen to the specifics.”

  She leaned forward, then. “The land is not as strained as the sea yet, though the Hightowers are tightening their grip. I do not plan to break any laws. Loosen them, perhaps, but this is barely banditry; it is arbitrage. These are perfectly natural in trade.”

  “Trust is the currency of trade,” Alyx countered stubbornly. “And you are asking me to deceive lords in their own lands.”

  “I am asking you to thrive, like how The Silver Lantern thrives just under the High Tower's beacon. You saw it yourself." She locked eyes. "Let it be yours. Make a name for yourself as a merchant of The Silver Lantern. The Hightowers do not trust me already, neither other noblemen. But here I am, bright and wealthy just in their vicinity. Trust you seek? You can trust me. And the lords will trust you.”

  Alyx took a moment to think. This woman was indeed a woman of bussiness.

  “I am Dornish, I doubt I'd be any better than you."

  “You are better especially because you are Dornish. Quite a chunk of richkfolk in the Southern Reach is regarding everything Dornish as a good option in the currently narrowing trade. I am well included. This is why we’ll be looking for how little trade we can draw from Dorne.”

  A pause. Alyx stared at the table, a thought running through her mind. This might strain Beachcastle… or it might fund it, perhaps?

  “The Honeywine is watched. The docks are watched. But markets?” Vanea shrugged lightly. “Markets are chaos. A wagon of wine is just a wagon of wine. A stall selling silks is nothing remarkable. And a young noblewoman from Dorne with a charming smile and a head for numbers?” She turned back, eyes sharp. “That will open more gates than you can imagine. Certainly, we are not smugglers, Lady Alyx. And we will never be.”

  “It is still risky…” Alyx murmured.

  “At least she is honest.” Elissa shrugged.

  “It is not as risky as you fear, Lady Alyx. You have not even heard the gist of it.”

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  Alyx looked surprised for a moment. “Truly?”

  Vanea nodded once. “We will start selling the caravans and horses, too.” She grinned. “We are not the only ones looking for more land trade and more connections in land trade. Everyone is desperate. This is why you are needed. You will be both trading in the land and selling in the port. The port is where you will have a stall provided from us. In the land, you will sell in a caravan, traveling and letting your wits work. Do you understand, now, Lady Alyx? You will connect the land and the port, and connect the land trade itself in its parts. You know, I could have just bought more wagons, bled my treasury dry to fight the tolls, but that is most certainly a game for fools. Instead, we trade correct and we build our own way. We should not play the games of the lords only to be destroyed in their hands.”

  A beat. Alyx pondered the long talk. The audacity of it was frightening. And alluring.

  “Do you think when this ends, you will be richer than before?" Alyx met her eyes,

  “Absolutely.”

  “How? It would take years. Do you think I will labor for you for a lifetime?”

  A nervous but quiet beat passed between them.

  “It is enough if you help for only a few moons. Long enough to forge the chain.”

  "Truly?" Alyx was surprised.

  Vanea nodded.

  "What comes after that, then?" Alyx asked.

  “After we make the initial profit, I will be navigating from there myself. My plans for you include only the base part.” She leaned back, arms crossed.

  Vanea lifted her golden goblet, her eyes flicking to the quiet Robin. She raised a brow when she saw his hands empty. “Where is the wine, boy?”

  “Apologies, I… I placed it back.” Robin went to retrieve the jug.

  Alyx watched him. He called himself a merchant’s son, yet he had been silent during a discussion of trade routes and tariffs. Curious, she thought.

  “Fill mine, too.” Elissa lifted her own goblet.

  When Robin offered the wine to Alyx, she shook her head.

  "So," she murmured, her voice like silk over stone. "Do you accept?"

  "Numbers first," Alyx demanded.

  "A tenth part of each day’s silver," Vanea said. "And when a moon's income of coin has trebled its height but once, I will pay one hundred Gold Dragons."

  Alyx’s eyes widened. One hundred? That was a ransom for a knight. It was a fortune.

  But she forced her face to remain impassive. “The risk is too high,” she said, leaning forward. “Twenty percent.”

  Vanea sneered. “You cannot simply double my offer, Lady Alyx. I am already generous.”

  “You need me. And I have… reservations about the law.” Alyx countered, leaning back and feigning comfort she did not feel. “Twenty. And I require a measure, a compensation for the risk. Twenty Gold Dragons should I withdraw."

  Vanea frowned. Moments passed between them, eyes never moving. “Ten in the first two moons, then fifteen in sales and ten Gold Dragons as risk premium."

  Their eyes remained locked. Alyx held her gaze until she finally exhaled.

  But before accepting, she turned to Robin. “What say you, man?”

  Robin was surprised for a moment, eyes darting between the two women. Elissa took a furious sip.

  “I… well, the danger here isn’t a slow rot, is it? It’s a matter of sudden fail,” Robin stammered, shaking his head. “A two moons wait? I’d say no."

  Vanea got angry, almost slamming her goblet on the table. “Am I to have no shield against whim? Am I a fool? What’s to stop you from taking my gold tomorrow and vanishing into the morning mist? Two moons is more than fair.”

  Alyx watched Robin fumble, his face reddening.

  “I—I didn’t mean to lift the threshold,” he whispered. “But I’d prefer half. One moon."

  Vanea turned her eyes on Alyx, staring. “I thought I was dealing with a woman of vision and wisdom. But if you must insist on proving I was sorely mistaken in this…”

  “A moon and a half,” Alyx interrupted. “Then the pact is sealed.”

  Vanea studied her for a long, unblinking moment.

  “One and a half,” Vanea repeated. Her lips twitched in part a smile, part a snarl. “You drive a sharper bargain than most men who think themselves kings.”

  Alyx did not look away. “A woman of vision you were expecting, no? Do not mistake me for those who overestimate what fear can buy. I rely on what I am."

  Vanea seemed impressed and amused both. “Very well. One and a half. Ten then fifteen percent of the daily take. Ten dragons when time comes, and a hundred when the coffers swell.” Vanea leaned forward, her breath smelling of honey and wine. “If this fails, you will not know me. If it prospers, all the Reach shall know your name.”

  “Very well,” she said. “One and a half moons. Fifteen percent of daily sales. Ten Dragons after, and a hundred upon success.” She leaned forward. “If this goes wrong, you will not know me. If it goes right, the Reach will.”

  “So be it.” A thin smile touched Alyx’s lips.

  “One more condition,” Vanea added. “You buy nothing without my word. No side-deals, no other contracts, no playing games behind my back.”

  “That is binding,” Elissa muttered, thrusting her empty cup toward Robin to be filled.

  “It was already assumed,” said Alyx. “I accept.”

  “Good. I shall bring the ledgers on the morrow.”

  “I have a question still,” Elissa took a sip, expression stiff. “You'll provide her with retainers, aye?”

  “Of course.” Vanea nodded.

  “You told us that you considered Alyx for who she is. Then why am I not to escort her? I do not understand still. For who she is, she comes with her own protection already.” Elissa took a furiously long sip of her wine.

  “Just men with steel do not suit the image of the Silver Lantern’s proprietress, they do not represent me,” Vanea explained calmly. “Besides, I have greater need of you within the city walls."

  “Why, exactly?” Elissa crossed her arms.

  "We have three properties in Oldtown—a manor for partners near the Guild Hall, an inn in the heart of the streets, and a tavern where the sailors rot by the bay. For all these places, The Lantern's way is to have women present."

  “Name yourself in truth rather than naming The Lantern, lady Vanea." Alyx took a sad sip. “I find the taste of it bitter.”

  Vanea shrugged. “Wealth is a dirty business. I grew up in such a world myself.”

  “Truly?” Robin asked, his eyes wide with feigned wonder. “I thought you were highborn, my lady, considering those eyes."

  Vanea froze. Her lilac eyes snapped to Robin, glinting sharply.

  Alyx turned to Robin, stunned herself. She had caught the thought before, but who would speak of it so plainly? Robin, for his own sake, did seem calmer than the act of surprise he just feigned.

  For a long moment, nobody spoke.

  Then Elissa’s goblet hit the table.

  “I care not for her eyes. Speak true, woman, do you mean for me to play the whore for you to call it guard duty?”

  Vanea’s eyes stayed so straightly on Robin’s face when speaking. “No. You see, Oldtown is a rather… rigid city when it comes to matters like this.” She finally turned to Elissa. "The pious hate the idea of women working in such ways. This is why our establishment is outside the walls in the first place. However, inside the city, we provide services more indirectly; our girls mainly stay at The Silver Lantern and work in those places for short turns. We need someone who can move regularly between locations and protect them." She swirled her wine. “Our male guards often fail in discipline; they waste themselves into the night, drinking or touching what is not theirs. It is utterly a discrace and I want to punish those who cannot work for their payment's worth. Because even in male, we must have the best quality.” Her eyes then went to Robin again. “They must respect our establishment because we have power.”

  Robin seemed to barely care, holding her gaze with easy effort.

  “Will she be permitted her spear in the city?” Alyx asked.

  Vanea nodded. “We can get her past the gates. Inside the city, she should wrap it well. She will most likely be using our carriages for most of the roads anyhow."

  “You plan to replace me with dozens of guards, then, since they are so lacking?" Elissa questioned.

  “I plan to place pieces where they fit. You are a needed touch to keep both our guards and drunks in line.” She leaned back, sipping from her goblet. “We have girls like you, you know?”

  “In service, you mean.” Elissa leaned back as well, finishing her third round of wine.

  “Not all. Eight can fight. Two of them refuse the bed-trade entirely. If this needs bespoken, five are Dornish, the rest from across the Narrow Sea.” Vanea leaned back, finishing her own wine.

  “That does not ring well.” Alyx frowned.

  Vanea chuckled, the sound rich and warm from the wine. “You need not worry, Lady Alyx. None of them is a noble.” She turned to Elissa with smug eyes. “Nor friends of nobles. But of course, I say so that we are open, should you ever think of it. It is an easy way to multiply your coin... and have fun."

  Elissa snorted. “Fuck off.” She rolled her eyes.

  “How vulgar.”

  “But she is right.” Alyx lowered her goblet. “She is with me. Do not speak of such offers to my companion, lady Vanea.”

  Alyx turned to Elissa. “What she is offering is no less risky than what she is offering to me. What say you, Elissa?”

  Elissa’s cheeks were flushed from the wine, but her gaze was still steady.

  “I think,” she said slowly, “that if I leave Alyx alone in this viper’s nest, I’ll be cursing myself before the moon turns.”

  “You will be moving quite a lot. I believe you might run into each other sometimes.”

  “Make me one promise,” Elissa grunted. “I guard. I do not flirt. And I certainly do not bed.”

  “Agreed,” she said. “A weapon that knows its purpose is worth more than ten swords that don’t.”

  Elissa was visibly amused by those words, smiling. “Well said. Then we understand each other.”

  Alyx let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Then we are settled.”

  “For tonight,” Vanea corrected softly. She rose from her chair, the movement smooth and unhurried. “Tomorrow, we begin.”

  She crossed to the tall windows and drew one velvet curtain aside. Outside, the rivers gleamed like molten silver under the night sky. Sweetwhisper slid south toward the sea and Oldtown’s waiting mouth. The beacon of the High Tower still burned, steady and indifferent.

  “Oldtown wakes early. You should do the same.”

  Alyx nodded, rising from her own chair. She walked to the window and stared at the distant beacon, at its eternal fire.

  “It burns so brightly,” Alyx murmured, the light reflecting her dark blue eyes. “It is magnificent. Yet... it looks so terribly lonely up there.”