Jared sat on the floor of his room, legs stretched out, arms behind his head, sighing for the tenth time in two minutes.

A warm towel landed on his forehead.

"I'm not dying, you know," he muttered, eyes closed.

Lucy knelt beside him, folding the towel at the edges with deliberate care. "You look like you want to."

"I feel like I've aged a decade in a week."

"Good. Now you match your attitude."

Jared cracked an eye open to glance at her. She smiled sweetly—too sweet.

He groaned and let the towel stay. "It's the blacksmith."

"James?"

"Yeah. He's doing well. Too well. If I praise him too much, he'll get cocky. If I say nothing, he might quit."

Lucy tilted her head, gently massaging his shoulders. "So, naturally, you chose the option where he thinks you hate him."

"It's strategic leadership."

"It's emotional constipation."

"I prefer 'calculated restraint.'"

[The goddess of trades laughs at your vulnerability.]

[The god of discipline nods in approval of your restraint.]

[The god of youth sighs and calls you an idiot.]

Jared sat up, towel sliding off his head. "He's useful. Probably the most talented smith I've met, and I've been to Ravana. But if I let him feel like he's irreplaceable, it'll ruin him."

Lucy reached for his coat and started brushing soot off it. "And yet you gave him a building, a forge, and access to half the armory."

"It's called investment."

"It's called mixed signals."

Jared flopped back down with a sigh. "Being in charge sucks."

"You're very cute when you whine, my lord" she said, placing the towel back with practiced elegance.

"You're dangerously close to being demoted."

Lucy leaned in, eyes twinkling. "I find that you'd be lying through your teeths.."

He didn't respond. Just stared at the ceiling.

A few moments passed in silence before Lucy spoke again, softer this time. "You know, sometimes I think about it."

Jared raised a brow. "Think about what?"

"Marriage."

"…Huh?"

She smiled.

"Like… you and me?" Jared sat up, expression caught between confusion and panic.

"Well, I'm your maid, your right hand, and also the one who watches you sleep, eat, and occasionally drool."

"I don't drool—"

"You do."

He frowned. "So your logic is, because you've cleaned up after me enough times, that qualifies as… wife material?"

"More like, no one else is brave enough to handle you."

"That's fair."

[The god of loyalty places a rose in your future.]

[The goddess of love fans herself with amusement.]

Jared blinked. "Lucy, I'm engaged."

"To Kiara, yes. But has she even kissed you?"

He paused.

"…No."

"Held your hand?"

"Only when we train."

"Touched your heart?"

"…That's cheating."

Lucy chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Exactly my point."

Jared leaned back, arms behind him. "She'd kill you if she heard this."

"She'd try."

"Then again, marrying two women doesn't sound so bad."

"You'll consider it?"

"I might, maybe..."

Lucy smiled again, this time a little more seriously. "It's not a proposal or anything. I just wonder. When the war's done. When the roads are built and the gods stop throwing chaos in your face… what kind of life do you want?"

Jared didn't answer right away.

He closed his eyes, thought about it.

"I want a village where no one fears the next season. Where no one starves. Where the kids grow up thinking monsters are just bedtime stories."

She nodded. "And after that?"

He shrugged. "Maybe a house. A forge. A garden. retirement."

"And a wife?"

He smirked. "Maybe a really aggressive roommate."

Lucy leaned in, close enough to steal his breath, then flicked his forehead.

"You're impossible."

"You brought it up."

"I regret everything."

He was about to respond when someone knocked—firm, quick, intentional.

Jared groaned. "If that's Kiara and she heard everything—tell my father I died a fool."

Lucy stood, brushing her skirt clean. "You're always a fool."

Jared got up and opened the door.

A man stood there with a trimmed beard, dusty cloak, and a merchant's ledger tucked under one arm. His face was older than Jared remembered, but the sly grin was exactly the same.

Jared blinked once, taking in the familiar figure.

"Simon?"

"Jared Hunter," the merchant repeated, that same wry grin tugging at his lips. "Still alive, I see."

"You're older."

"You're prettier."

"eh?"

Simon chuckled and stepped inside without waiting for permission, his boots leaving faint trails of dust across the polished wooden floor.

Lucy moved subtly to Jared's side, not quite glaring but clearly marking territory.

Simon noticed, offered her a nod. "I know I came unannounced, but it's for a good reason.."

"I understand.," Lucy replied calmly.

Jared rubbed his temple. "Let's skip the flattery. What news?"

Simon pulled the ledger from beneath his arm, flipped it open, and held out a single sheet—sealed with crimson wax and stamped with the auction house's emblem.

"I made it to the capital. Got the goods appraised and listed through a private noble auction. As per our deal, I held back the details of where they came from."

Jared scanned the paper.

"Your enchanted device—" Simon gestured, "what you called a 'smartphone'? The nobles argued for half a day. One believed it was an advanced locator, another swore it was a spell-imbued illusion mirror."

"I told you not to activate it," Jared said with a tired sigh.

"I didn't. They did. I just watched." He grinned. "Sold for 27 gold eres. Upfront."

Jared raised an eyebrow. "You're joking."

"I would never joke about gold."

[The goddess of trades claps in amusement.]

[The god of information hums with interest.]

Lucy blinked. "Twenty-seven?"

Simon nodded. "And your diamond—standard cut, nothing magical, but the clarity and size? Pulled in 17 gold eres. Lower than expected, but still beyond most common auctions."

Jared leaned back, arms crossed. "Forty-four gold. In one sitting."

"Which brings me to the real reason I came," Simon added, closing the ledger. "Those were just the first pieces. We both know what you're holding is worth far more than just stones and gadgets."

Jared didn't respond, so Simon pressed on.

"I want exclusive rights to auction and distribute your goods in the capital. Anything you choose to offload—rare minerals, tech from your world, enchanted materials—I handle it, I move it, I sell it. You get a clean payment, I get a modest cut."

Lucy raised a brow. "Modest?"

Simon shrugged. "Ten percent."

"That's modest? Didn't we already get over this?" Jared blinked.

"Five if you're mad about it. But I won't go lower." Simon smiled. "I'll handle bribes, paperwork, storage, transport, noble egos. You keep your name out of it, and I stay your buffer."

Jared didn't answer at first.

Instead, he walked to his side table and pulled out the second phone he hadn't yet shown anyone—still powered off, hidden since the day he arrived.

He turned it over in his hand.

"What do they think it is now?"

"A prototype magic vault. A few want to crack it open. Others want to worship it."

Jared laughed. "Of course they do."

Simon leaned on the wall, expression more sincere now. "You're not like the rest of them. You see the bigger picture. That's why I'm here. I want in now—before the nobles come sniffing for you directly."

Jared nodded slowly. "Alright. One condition."

"Name it."

"No one—not even your buyers—can know this came from Sikone. You leak that, I bury you in your own ledger."

Simon held up both hands. "Deal."

[The god of loyalty seals your pact.]

[The goddess of dragons hides your name.]

Lucy crossed her arms. "You're really serious about this?"

"I have to be," Jared murmured. "This village is growing too fast. I can't fund it with prayers."

Simon looked between the two of them. "If I may ask… how's the engagement?"

Lucy rolled her eyes so hard it almost echoed.

Jared blinked. "Which one?"

Simon's face twisted. "You have more than one?"

"Technically, I'm only engaged to one," Jared replied, "but apparently I'm considering a second."

"Open contracts, huh?"

Lucy stepped forward. "Kiara's his fiancée. I'm just the aggressive roommate."

Simon choked on a laugh.

Jared rubbed his face. "It's not what it sounds like."

"It's exactly what it sounds like," Lucy said smugly.

Simon composed himself. "Whatever your arrangement, I hope it doesn't interfere with your reputation."

"You think I had a clean one?"

Simon grinned. "No. Just colorful."

They all sat after that. Jared poured them each a drink from the small flask Lucy kept hidden in the drawer—her "reward stash," she claimed.

For the next hour, they discussed logistics. Trade route security. Inventory control. Drop-off points near Ravana's neutral zone.

Simon had plans. Jared had contingencies.

Lucy kept the ledger updated in real time, correcting Simon's more optimistic numbers with her usual deadpan efficiency.

As the sun began to lower outside the windows, casting long streaks of gold across the floor, Simon finally stood.

"I'll head out at first light," he said, packing up his papers. "Keep your messengers clear of the eastern road—border scouts are acting twitchy."

"Understood," Jared replied.

Simon turned to him at the doorway.

"Lord Jared… I've worked with bandits, nobles, warlords. But only you ever made me believe someone could build something that lasts."

Jared looked up. "Don't go soft on me."

"I won't." He smiled. "That's your job."

[The god of ambition marks your name in a ledger of legends.]

[The goddess of memory folds this moment into silk.]

As the door shut behind Simon, silence returned.

Jared leaned back, exhaling. "He's right."

Lucy turned to him. "About what?"

"This place... it might really become something."

Lucy stepped closer, took the empty glass from his hand, and replaced it with a soft cloth.

"Lord Jared, You've already made it something. Now stop talking like a martyr and let me baby you again."

He chuckled. "You just want another shot at that marriage speech."

"No. Just your face when I bring it up."

He laid back with a groan. "I knew giving you power was a mistake."

Lucy leaned over him, pressing the cloth to his cheek.

"And yet, here I am. Still the one beside you. Always will be."

Jared closed his eyes.

For once, he didn't argue.

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