Ryana sat behind her heavy oak desk, a stack of ledgers spread out before her. She was wearing her usual grey travel robes, the heavy veil covering the lower half of her face, leaving only her emerald eyes visible. Those eyes were currently crinkling at the corners.
She dipped her quill in ink and circled a final figure at the bottom of the parchment.
"Two hundred percent," she murmured, a note of disbelief in her voice. "That arrogant brat actually delivered."
The contract from the Temple of Light had come through yesterday morning. It wasn't just a small order for candles; it was an exclusive supply agreement for the entire season. Incense, robes, oil, parchment—High Priest Remus had transferred the Temple's entire logistics budget to the Silver Route overnight.
It was a staggering amount of gold. Enough to secure her position against the Golden Scales for months.
