The following morning, the city of Valenheim bloomed under a golden dawn. Light spilled over the marble rooftops, merchants called from their stalls, and the scent of freshly baked bread drifted through the narrow streets. Inside Richard's mansion, the atmosphere was unusually lively.
Rudra stood before a tall mirror, adjusting his dark vest and crisp shirt. He frowned. "I look like I'm about to rob a bank, not sell something."
Behind him, Victoria chuckled softly. "You look fine. You just have your father's expression when he first started. Nervous, but pretending not to be."
Rudra smiled sheepishly. "I guess it runs in the family."
Soon, the carriage arrived to take him to the trading company. As he stepped inside, a strange mix of excitement and unease swirled within him. This was his first real day as a merchant—not a soldier, not a survivor. A builder.
When he arrived, Merrin, the butler, was already waiting at the grand entrance. His posture was perfect, his coat spotless, and his expression unreadable.
"You are five minutes early," Merrin noted as he handed Rudra a leather-bound notebook. "A good start. In this business, time is the currency even the gods cannot mint twice."
Rudra blinked. "You really sound like my father."
Merrin allowed himself a faint smirk. "That is the highest compliment you could give me. Come, young master. The lessons of gold await."
---
The Art of Trade
Merrin led Rudra through the bustling halls of the trading company. Workers hurried about with crates of spices, scrolls of parchment, and glittering gems from distant lands. The rhythmic sound of quills scratching and papers shuffling filled the air.
"Commerce," Merrin began, his tone crisp, "is not about selling goods. It's about selling trust. A merchant without credibility is like a sword without a blade."
He guided Rudra into a small meeting chamber where a map of the continent hung on the wall, marked with trade routes and colored pins.
"These," Merrin explained, "are the arteries of civilization. Gold, spices, steel, silk—they all flow through them. But remember: for every road you walk, someone is waiting to cheat you."
Rudra tilted his head. "So… the trick is not to get cheated?"
"The trick," Merrin replied dryly, "is to cheat them without them realizing it and still make them thank you for it."
Rudra burst out laughing. "That sounds very morally flexible."
"That, young master," Merrin said with the faintest smirk, "is why merchants live longer than soldiers."
They spent the next few hours reviewing trade ledgers, learning how to calculate profit margins, and discussing negotiation tactics. Merrin's discipline was relentless, yet his teachings were sharp and practical.
At noon, Rudra leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "My brain's melting."
Merrin adjusted his gloves. "Knowledge is like fine wine—it burns at first but rewards the patient. Take a short break. I believe Miss Lumi is waiting for you in the courtyard."
Rudra blinked. "Lumi? Why?"
Merrin's eyes glinted. "Your father instructed her to help you 'understand people.' I assume this is part of the training."
"Right…" Rudra muttered, unsure whether to be nervous or grateful.
---
Silver Threads and Small Smiles
The courtyard was warm and bright, filled with the soft hum of bees and the scent of blooming lilies. Lumi sat on a stone bench, reading a small book. The sunlight played off her silver hair, turning it into liquid light.
When she noticed Rudra, she closed her book and smiled. "There you are, Mister Merchant-in-Training!"
Rudra chuckled. "More like Merchant-in-Pain. Merrin's lessons feel like getting lectured by an angry philosopher."
She giggled, a musical sound that made Rudra's chest tighten slightly. "Well, you survived battlefields. I'm sure ledgers can't kill you."
"I'm not sure," Rudra said with mock seriousness. "Numbers can be deadlier than swords."
Lumi patted the bench beside her. "Then sit. I'll protect you from them."
He sat, grateful for the calm. For a moment, neither spoke—just the gentle rustle of leaves and distant chatter from the workers.
"So," Lumi began, her tone playful, "tell me, Merchant Rudra, what's your first impression of the trading world?"
Rudra thought for a moment. "It's… complicated. Everyone smiles, but every smile hides a calculation. It's like dancing with knives."
"That's accurate," Lumi said, smiling faintly. "But there's beauty in it too. A good deal isn't just about money—it's about connection. You learn how people think, what they value, what they fear."
Rudra tilted his head. "You sound like Merrin."
"Hey!" She laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment. But unlike him, I prefer deals that end with laughter, not ledgers."
"Maybe that's why people like you," Rudra said before realizing he'd said it aloud.
Lumi blinked, a small blush rising to her cheeks. "Oh? You think people like me?"
Rudra coughed, looking away. "I—I meant the workers. They seem happy when you're around."
She smiled softly, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Nice save."
---
The Lesson of Apples
Lumi stood and stretched. "Alright, enough talk. Let's see if you can apply what Merrin taught you."
"Apply?" Rudra asked. "How?"
She gestured toward the courtyard gate, where a fruit vendor was setting up a stand. "We'll play a game. Buy one apple."
Rudra blinked. "That's it?"
"The goal," she said with a mischievous grin, "is to get it for less than half the price. Let's see how well you negotiate."
Rudra smirked. "Challenge accepted."
They approached the vendor, an older man with a bushy beard. "Ah, fine apples today! Two silvers each."
Rudra leaned on the stall casually. "Two silvers? They must be made of gold."
The vendor chuckled. "These are fresh from the northern farms, boy."
Rudra picked one up, inspected it, and said, "Hmm, bruised on the side. One silver, and I'll take it off your hands before it spoils."
The vendor squinted. "One? You're robbing me."
"Then one and a half, and I'll promise to recommend your stall to every merchant in my father's company," Rudra countered smoothly.
The man hesitated, then smiled. "Fine deal, young trader."
Rudra handed over the coins, feeling triumphant. "See? Easy."
Lumi clapped softly. "Not bad! But you could've smiled more. You looked like you were plotting to overthrow his kingdom."
Rudra laughed. "That's my serious face."
They shared the apple under the shade of the courtyard tree, each taking turns biting into it. Their fingers brushed once, accidentally, and both froze for a second before Lumi laughed it off, cheeks flushed.
"You're really bad at hiding your expressions," she teased.
"Guess I need more training," he replied softly.
---
Afternoon Shadows
Later that day, Merrin found them still sitting by the fountain, their laughter echoing softly. He cleared his throat.
"Enjoying the… educational break?"
Lumi jumped slightly. "Ah—Merrin! We were just… practicing communication."
Rudra nodded solemnly. "Team bonding exercise."
Merrin's eyebrow twitched. "Indeed. I shall inform Master Richard that his company's future rests upon apple sharing."
Rudra grinned. "Tell him it was a profitable investment."
For a fleeting moment, Merrin's stoic mask cracked into a faint smile. "Very well, young master. Tomorrow we begin practical training — negotiation with the actual traders from the western guilds. Prepare yourself."
When he left, Lumi exhaled. "He's scary when he's polite."
Rudra smirked. "That's his special talent."
---
Evening Glow
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the city turned golden. Lumi and Rudra walked through the garden, the scent of jasmine heavy in the air. Fireflies blinked to life around them like drifting stars.
"Today wasn't bad," Rudra said quietly. "For the first time in a while, I… felt normal."
Lumi looked at him, her smile gentle. "Then keep feeling that way. You don't have to rush to become your father or anyone else."
Rudra met her eyes. "And what about you? What do you want to become?"
She thought for a moment, then said softly, "Someone worth remembering."
The simplicity of her answer struck him. Before he could respond, she stepped closer, brushing a speck of dust from his collar.
"There," she said with a grin. "Now you look like a proper merchant."
He smiled. "Thanks. For everything."
She turned, walking toward the door. "See you tomorrow, Merchant Rudra."
As she disappeared into the hall, Rudra lingered in the quiet garden, the last light of dusk painting his face. For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel lost — just uncertain, and strangely… happy.
Above him, the wind whispered through the trees. Somewhere in that whisper hid a warning, faint but certain — the kind of silence that always came before a storm.