Chapter 418: A Merchant’s Investment

A Merchant’s Investment

The words came almost casually.

Felberta crossed one leg over the other beneath the table. Then she leaned back slightly, settling into her chair as if they were discussing something completely ordinary.

"I just want to start a little business here."

Brinda’s eyes narrowed.

A business?

After revealing her identity?

After showing that she had a butler who could overwhelm her before she even had the chance to cast a spell?

The whole situation was becoming stranger by the moment.

Felberta didn’t seem bothered by Brinda’s suspicion.

She simply continued.

"You see, I’m growing tired of the traveling merchant’s lifestyle."

Her voice was light.

Almost playful.

But there was something beneath it.

Something quieter.

Something sincere.

That small trace of honesty made it difficult for Brinda to dismiss her outright.

Felberta didn’t sound like someone looking for a place to make a quick profit before moving on.

She sounded like someone who had spent enough time wandering and had finally found somewhere she wanted to stay.

"I want to take root here in New Fantom," Felberta said. "I feel like a lot of opportunities are going to appear here."

Brinda didn’t answer immediately.

She studied Felberta in silence.

There was confidence in the woman’s expression, but it wasn’t the loud kind. Felberta wasn’t trying to impress her. She wasn’t desperately trying to sell the idea.

She simply seemed certain.

That certainty made Brinda more cautious, not less.

Outside the room, faint footsteps passed through the corridor.

They grew closer.

Then faded away.

For a moment, neither woman spoke.

Beyond the mansion walls, New Fantom continued to live.

The city was never truly quiet anymore.

There was always something happening somewhere.

A cart rolling over uneven stone.

Someone shouting from a nearby street.

The distant sound of workers finishing their duties.

New Fantom was still finding its feet.

Its independence was young.

Its foundations were far from stable.

And financially...

Things were even worse.

Lord Victor had left behind a vision for the city.

A grand one.

But a vision alone couldn’t build anything.

Someone had to pay for the roads.

Someone had to fund the workshops.

Someone had to bring in supplies.

Someone had to organize trade.

People needed work.

Businesses needed protection.

The city needed merchants willing to take risks.

And above all else, it needed money.

Brinda understood that better than most.

She had seen the accounts.

She knew how carefully every coin had to be handled.

That was why Felberta’s proposal couldn’t simply be brushed aside.

A merchant willing to invest in New Fantom at this point wasn’t merely offering money.

They were placing their faith in the city’s future.

And people didn’t make that kind of decision without a reason.

Brinda slowly raised one hand and rested it against the armrest.

Her fingers tapped against the wood.

Once.

Twice.

Then stopped.

Her gaze remained fixed on Felberta.

"What exactly are you planning to establish?"

Felberta’s smile remained gentle.

"That depends on what New Fantom needs."

Brinda watched her carefully.

There was no hesitation in the answer.

No nervous glance toward Oliver.

No attempt to exaggerate.

It was almost frustrating.

Felberta was giving her just enough information to keep the conversation alive without revealing anything important.

Brinda exhaled quietly.

"You’re not acting like a proper merchant."

Felberta’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Is that so?"

"You know too much."

For the first time, Felberta’s smile changed.

It became smaller.

Not threatening.

Just knowing.

"A merchant survives by knowing things, Ms. Brinda."

Brinda stared at her.

"Perhaps."

Her fingers continued moving almost imperceptibly.

The delayed spell was taking shape.

Mana flowed through the channels beneath her skin, gathering without producing any visible fluctuation.

She needed to remain patient.

She couldn’t afford to rush.

Felberta had already demonstrated that she was not someone who could be underestimated.

And Oliver...

Her fingers continued moving almost imperceptibly.

Brinda’s eyes briefly shifted toward him again.

The old butler stood exactly where he had before.

Still.

Silent.

Unmoving.

Yet somehow that stillness was more threatening than an armed guard.

Brinda immediately looked away.

She didn’t want to provoke him.

There was no reason to.

For now, this was a negotiation.

Felberta leaned forward slightly.

"You’re worried about the city’s finances, aren’t you?"

Brinda’s expression remained unchanged.

Inside, however, her thoughts sharpened.

So she knows that too.

"Anyone who has eyes can see that New Fantom needs money," Brinda replied.

Felberta gave a quiet laugh.

"True."

She placed her teacup down.

"But knowing that and being willing to do something about it are two different matters."

Brinda said nothing.

That statement struck closer than she wanted.

Felberta wasn’t wrong.

Many merchants had already heard about New Fantom’s situation. Most would wait.

They would watch.

They would wait for the city to stabilize before investing a single coin.

But this woman had come now.

At the worst possible moment.

That meant she either had extraordinary courage...

Or extraordinary confidence.

Perhaps both.

Brinda’s eyes narrowed.

"What do you expect to gain?"

Felberta smiled.

"Profit, naturally."

The answer was so simple that Brinda almost laughed.

Almost.

Felberta continued, her tone still relaxed.

"But profit isn’t always measured in coins."

That sentence made Brinda’s expression grow serious.

She understood what Felberta was implying.

A merchant could invest money today and receive influence tomorrow.

A foothold in a newly independent city could become extraordinarily valuable if that city succeeded.

And if New Fantom truly became the prosperous city Victor envisioned...

Then the first merchants to establish themselves here would possess an advantage no latecomer could easily take away.

Brinda finally understood the shape of the offer.

This wasn’t charity.

It was an investment.

A calculated one.

And that made it far more dangerous.

She leaned back in her chair.

Her delayed spell was nearly complete.

She kept her face calm.

Felberta’s smile never faded.

Between them, the tea slowly cooled.

Neither woman looked away.

For the moment, both were smiling.

But beneath those smiles, neither trusted the other.