Free Web NovelChapter 59: An Apprentice Negotiation
The next morning began with an argument.
This wasn’t unusual.
What was unusual was that the argument started before breakfast.
Rowan had barely stepped into the common room when Seraphina pointed at him.
"Apprentice."
"No."
She pointed at Daren.
"Apprentice."
"No."
She pointed at herself.
"Visionary genius."
Daren pulled out a chair.
"One of these titles is significantly more self-assigned than the others."
Seraphina sat down.
"Leadership requires confidence."
"It requires employees."
"Technicality."
The innkeeper dropped a plate onto the table.
Hard.
Not angry.
Experienced.
The sound of a man who had hosted them long enough to stop questioning reality.
"Eat."
Good advice.
Nobody listened.
Rowan unfolded a map.
Immediately.
Because unlike certain people—
He woke up thinking about problems.
The silver compass sat beside it.
The one Tax had stolen.
Recovered.
Delivered.
Whatever word people wanted to use.
Rowan still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the fact that an important clue had arrived through crow-based crime.
He adjusted the compass.
Watched the needle settle.
Then frowned.
Again.
Daren noticed.
"You’ve made that face six times."
"I’ve made one face."
"No."
Daren pointed.
"You’ve got three."
"That’s not true."
"It absolutely is."
Rowan opened his mouth.
Stopped.
Then reluctantly admitted:
"Fine."
Progress.
Tiny progress.
But progress.
Across the table, Seraphina was drawing mustaches on a sketch of a noble.
Research.
Obviously.
Kael didn’t even ask anymore.
His standards had evolved.
Or deteriorated.
Hard to tell.
Rowan tapped the map.
"The compass doesn’t point north."
That got everyone’s attention.
Even Seraphina looked up.
Briefly.
Then returned to the mustache.
Then looked up again.
Because that was actually interesting.
"Broken?"
"Maybe."
"Haunted?"
"No."
"Disappointing."
Rowan ignored her.
A survival skill.
"The needle changes direction every few hours."
Now Kael leaned forward.
That was new.
Different from a normal navigation tool.
Different from anything Rowan had seen before.
Daren chewed thoughtfully.
A rare occurrence.
Usually he talked first.
Then thought later.
"If it’s not pointing north..."
A pause.
"...what is it pointing at?"
Good question.
The kind of question that made rooms quieter.
Not dramatically.
Naturally.
People tended to become quieter when they realized they were missing part of a puzzle.
Rowan tapped the compass once.
"That’s what I want to find out."
Seraphina immediately stood.
Danger.
"Adventure."
"No."
"Quest."
"No."
"Field trip."
"No."
"Educational excursion."
"No."
Kael nodded approvingly.
Excellent work.
Rowan looked between them.
Then slowly folded the map.
"I’m leaving tomorrow."
The room didn’t react immediately.
Not because it wasn’t important.
Because everyone had heard him say that before.
Several times.
Like a merchant trying to quit a market and somehow ending up opening another stall.
Daren pointed.
"There it is again."
"What."
"The sentence."
"What sentence."
"’I’m leaving tomorrow.’"
The delivery was perfect.
Even Kael looked away.
A tactical retreat.
Rowan rubbed his forehead.
"I mean it."
"You meant it three days ago."
"I meant it then too."
"That’s somehow worse."
Fair.
Very fair.
Seraphina climbed onto her chair.
Not sat.
Climbed.
A crucial difference.
Whenever she gained elevation, speeches happened.
Everyone knew this.
Nobody could stop it.
"Attention."
Nobody paid attention.
She continued anyway.
"A proposal."
Daren immediately groaned.
"Oh no."
"A great proposal."
"Worse."
"A legendary proposal."
"Much worse."
Seraphina pointed dramatically at Rowan.
"Step one."
A pause.
Then at Daren.
"Step two."
Another pause.
Then at herself.
"Step three."
Silence.
Not because anyone was shocked.
Because nobody understood anything.
A recurring issue.
Finally Daren asked:
"What are the steps."
"Simple."
She smiled.
The dangerous one.
"The mystery."
Reasonable.
"The apprenticeship."
Less reasonable.
"The business."
Completely unreasonable.
Rowan stared.
Daren stared.
Kael slowly lowered his head into his hands.
The order somehow made it worse.
"Those things are not connected."
Seraphina looked offended.
"They’re obviously connected."
"How."
She pointed at Rowan.
"He wants answers."
Then Daren.
"He wants purpose."
Then herself.
"I want employees."
The room went silent.
Not the dramatic kind.
The exhausted kind.
The innkeeper walked past.
He heard exactly enough of the conversation to understand the problem.
Then immediately walked away.
A wise man.
Outside the window, Tax landed on the sill.
A shiny button in his beak.
Nobody knew where he found it.
Nobody asked.
The crow dropped it onto the table proudly.
Then stole a piece of toast.
An efficient business model.
Atlas watched from the corner.
The bear had somehow acquired a blanket.
Nobody knew how.
The blanket appeared happy.
Life was strange.
The conversation eventually drifted elsewhere.
Breakfast disappeared.
Maps returned.
Plans formed.
Not dramatic plans.
Real plans.
Routes.
Stops.
Supply costs.
Questions that needed answers.
For the first time in several days, the fashion competition wasn’t the center of discussion.
Not because it wasn’t important.
Because it had already changed things.
Now people were dealing with the consequences.
And consequences were usually less glamorous than victory.
Much more annoying.
Much more real.
Which was exactly why they mattered.
The problem with real plans was that they eventually reached numbers.
Numbers were evil.
At least according to Seraphina.
"Food."
She pointed at the paper.
"Expensive."
Kael nodded.
"Yes."
"Horses."
"Yes."
"Supplies."
"Yes."
"Why does survival have a subscription service?"
Daren nearly choked on his drink.
Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose.
The discussion continued.
One route crossed three towns.
Another crossed two. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
A third avoided major roads entirely.
Nobody liked the third option.
Especially after recent events.
Eventually Rowan spread another map across the table.
Older.
More worn.
The paper had been folded so many times the edges were nearly white.
Kael immediately noticed something.
"That’s not from this city."
"No."
"Where did you get it?"
"My uncle."
The answer settled differently than most.
Because Rowan rarely talked about him.
Not directly.
Not casually.
The group became quieter.
Not forced.
Just listening.
Rowan ran a finger across the map.
"This was one of his trade routes."
A pause.
"He used it for years."
Daren leaned forward.
"Before he disappeared?"
Rowan nodded.
"Before."
For several moments nobody interrupted.
The common room remained noisy around them.
Travelers laughed.
Merchants argued.
Someone dropped a plate.
Life continued.
Yet their table felt separate from it.
Like a small island.
Then Seraphina asked:
"Was he cool?"
The question was so unexpected Rowan actually looked confused.
"What?"
"Your uncle."
She pointed. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
"Cool?"
Daren immediately looked interested.
This was much more important than route planning.
Rowan thought for a second.
Then unexpectedly smiled.
"Actually?"
A pause.
"Yes."
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"Tell us."
Rowan looked at her.
Then at the map.
Then somewhere else entirely.
Toward memory.
"He got banned from three cities."
Seraphina immediately sat up straighter.
Respect.
Instant respect.
"Continue."
"He once bought an entire shipment because a merchant annoyed him."
Daren laughed.
"That’s insane."
"Yes."
"He regretted it."
"Less impressive."
"Not immediately."
"More impressive."
Kael watched the conversation quietly.
Because something subtle was happening.
For the first time—
Rowan wasn’t talking about a mystery.
Or a disappearance.
Or a tragedy.
He was talking about a person.
A real person.
Not a plot point.
Not a goal.
A person.
The difference mattered.
Eventually Rowan stopped.
The smile faded.
Not sadly.
Naturally.
Like the end of a story.
Then he looked down at the compass.
And the room understood what he wasn’t saying.
He missed him.
Simple.
Human.
Real.
No dramatic speech required.
The silence lasted exactly seven seconds.
Then Seraphina ruined it.
Naturally.
She stood.
Again.
"Decision made."
Nobody liked those words.
"What decision?"
Daren asked cautiously.
She pointed at Rowan.
"We’re helping."
Then at the compass.
"We’re investigating."
Then dramatically toward the ceiling.
"And we’re collecting apprentices."
The room groaned.
Atlas opened one eye.
Tax stole another piece of bread.
Life continued.
Rowan looked genuinely baffled.
"Why are you still focused on the apprentice thing?"
"Because."
A pause.
Then she pointed at him.
"You are responsible."
Another point.
"Daren is adaptable."
Another point.
"Kael is already management."
"I am not."
"You literally are."
Fair.
Very fair.
Kael hated that.
Seraphina crossed her arms.
"Also."
A dangerous word.
"I don’t want my future employees getting eaten by ancient mysteries."
The room went still.
Not because of the joke.
Because everyone immediately realized she wasn’t joking.
At least not entirely.
That was the problem with Seraphina.
The ridiculous statements often contained the truth.
Daren stared.
Then laughed.
Then stopped laughing.
Because the more he thought about it—
The more genuine it sounded.
Rowan noticed too.
Which was somehow worse.
The girl who insulted nobles through clothing.
Started songs in life-threatening situations.
Held birthday parties for a crow.
And ranked furniture.
Was sincerely worried about them.
A horrifying discovery.
The door to the inn opened.
A messenger entered.
Young.
Out of breath.
Looking around rapidly.
Then his eyes landed on Seraphina.
A dangerous development.
"Fashion Lady!"
The entire table flinched.
Even Atlas.
Seraphina pointed dramatically.
"I continue to possess a real name."
The messenger ignored this.
He approached quickly.
Holding a sealed letter.
Expensive paper.
Professional seal.
Important.
The mood shifted immediately.
Not because letters were rare.
Because important letters rarely arrived without causing problems.
The messenger handed it over.
"Delivery."
Then left.
Immediately.
An excellent survival instinct.
The table stared at the envelope.
The envelope remained unhelpful.
Finally Kael reached for it.
Seraphina slapped his hand away.
Mine."
"You can’t read seals."
"I can emotionally read seals."
"That’s not a skill."
"It is today."
She flipped the envelope over.
Then paused.
For once.
Actually paused.
Interesting.
The seal wasn’t from Marianne.
Not from the competition.
Not from a merchant.
Not from a noble.
It was a symbol nobody at the table recognized.
Simple.
Elegant.
A silver bird.
The room grew quieter.
Not because of mystery.
Because nobody knew what it meant.
And sometimes the most uncomfortable thing wasn’t danger.
It was uncertainty.
Seraphina looked at the seal.
Then at Rowan.
Then at Daren.
Then at Kael.
Finally—
She smiled.
Not because she understood anything.
Because she absolutely didn’t.
"Good news."
Kael immediately became suspicious.
"You don’t know what it says."
"Correct."
"Then how is it good news?"
"Because something exciting is happening."
That was not reassuring.
Not even slightly.
