NOVEL NEXT Chapter 49
Chapter 49
Sophie
Day 44, Day 4 on the Road
Kronfeldt
Oh, this place? Yeah, definitely my kind of scene. So decadent, so luxurious—I must have it... eventually.
Warm, fragrant candlelight flickered as we strolled into the lobby of The Silk Lotus. Violet velvet carpeting covered the ebony hardwood floors, like walking on a cloud. Censers filled the air with a scent of sandalwood, cleaning our lungs out from the stench of the rabble outside. James, got distracted, gawking at a statue of some nude rabbit girl, a rather ridiculous-looking marble piece, as if someone had placed a cute bunny head atop a furry Venus de Milo. I couldn’t help but smirk. The room’s centerpiece was an enormous ebony staircase with silver rails, leading down into dimly lit, shadowy corridors.
We were greeted by a madame who held court at the entrance like a maître d'. She had a round pink snout, beady little eyes, floppy ears, and a plump body bundled in a purple corset. Honestly, she looked like a more elegant Ms. Piggy, and I was thankful for my mask hiding my amused expression underneath. Her gaze lingered on us, clearly curious. I figured our clothes, James in his suit and me in my sleek leather jacket and pants, made us stand out. Road-worn, sure, but I made sure we were polished enough to make an impression.
“Welcome, welcomeeee,” she purred, her voice smooth but drawing out the ends of her words in a way that bordered on theatrical. “Your first time here, I presume, at our establishmenttttt?”
“Greetings,” James, now playing the part of a boar, said in his overly regal tone as he kissed her hand. The Madame blushed, pink cheeks turning red with surprise.
“Well, you’re quite forward, aren’t you?” she replied, nodding slightly. “I am Madame Trufflenose, your guide through our illustrious pleasure gardens. Shall I call forth the flower garden for your delight, or perhaps you come on the recommendation of a mutual acquaintance?
“My name is Clark, and this is my wife, Lois. We’re here on business,” James said, flashing a coy smile. “I’d like a word with the owner.”
“Owners,” she corrected, eyes narrowing. “I’m one of three sisters who oversee this esteemed establishmentttttt. The Silk Lotus is not for sale. Our family has nurtured these gardens for nearly a century.”
“Oh, I’m not here to buy your business,” I said lightly.
Not yet anyway. Not until the timing’s right.
“Then whateverrrr do you want?” she asked, tilting her head, curiosity piqued.
James translated my words. “We are sellers of fine goods from our village. Surely, madam, an establishment of your prestige requires medicine and tinctures. To keep things… clean.”
“Ah yes, cleanliness. Quite troublesome,” she sighed. “Fortunately, we have an herbalist who supplies us with the finest potions to remedy such concerns.”
I tilted my head. “Must be expensive potions.”
“Five Seconds a vial, and they’re not guaranteed to work, either.” The Madame looked mournful, “but we must maintain a reputation of pristine flowers.”
“Five Seconds?” I gasped, feigning shock. “Well, I happen to have something far more effective—for a mere two Seconds.”
Trufflenose laughed, dainty hands covering her mouth. “Oh, please. Do you think I haven’t heard every charlatan peddle dung and fish liver oil as some miracle cure?”
“Our product works,” James cut in smoothly. “It might not solve all your problems, but most. And we won’t even take payment until it does.”
“How can you make such a bold promiseeee?” she asked, her tone teasing yet intrigued.
“Why don’t we sit somewhere more comfortable to discuss it?” I sighed, pulling out my teapot like it was just another day at the office. “I’m parched.”
The private lounge she whisked us into was elegant—women sipping tea and nibbling on tiny cakes. It was obvious this place catered to high society, even the wives of clients indulging in gossip and treats while their husbands explored the “garden.” I’d give them this: The Silk Lotus wasn’t your run-of-the-mill back-alley joint. No, this was a legitimate business, probably with government approval. It appeared they had a rather liberal attitude toward the whole affair of the world’s oldest profession.
We sat at an ornate granite table and sank into plush black leather chairs. Trufflenose gestured to a servant mouse girl, who brought over a copper kettle of hot water.
From my brief impression of her—her jewels, the way she treated her servants, and her constant need to compare herself to her sisters—Madame Trufflenose embodied extravagance. Her eyes glimmered with a hunger for the finer things: tea, luxury, and any treasure she could collect. She wasn’t one to hear 'no' without pouting. I would need to meet her sisters as well to ignite a rivalry that could only be satisfied with the purchase of luxury Thornhill teaware.
“Are you sure your husband doesn’t want to… entertain himself while we talk?” Trufflenose asked with a sly smile.
“Alas, my wife is a foreigner. She needs my translating skills,” James said with a straight face.
“A foreigner? That explains the mask. Lumindawn is still a month awayyyyy,” Trufflenose remarked, eyeing me curiously. Before the servant could pour tea into the teapot filled with yellow flowers, I stopped her, pulling out our teapot.
“My wife can only drink a specific tea. It’s our custom to offer it to strangers first,” James explained with a grin.
“Oh, my!” Trufflenose clapped her hands, excited. “Foreign tea! What a delight. With the Queen’s tariff on Hidden Kingdom’s teas, it’s been ages since I’ve had anything but local blends.”
James poured hot water into our teapot after I dropped in a mix of Anika’s herbs and firecracker berries. As the tea steeped, Trufflenose leaned in.
“Where did you say you were from again?”
“The isle of New York,” James said dryly. “We’ve a taste for the finer things there. You wouldn’t believe the wonders and luxuries we've got.”
Trufflenose’s beady eyes lit up as she blew on her tea. “And where did you find such an exquisite teapot?”
James stroked the teapot, clearly fond of it. It was one of Bianca’s, B-grade. Trufflenose admired its smooth, round body, the flowers painted on one side, and the spiral handle. It gleamed with a beautiful glaze, and her signature “B” was etched under the lid. I had to admit, even though it wasn’t the highest quality, this teapot has a certain warmth to it. It radiated an air of luxury thanks to the special effect imbued by Bianca's high-level Pottery skill; the effect was almost like a designer handbag in the hands of a young socialite.
“It’s a genuine Bianca,” I said, pride leaking into my voice.
“You simply must tell me where I can find one!” Trufflenose sipped the tea, clearly enjoying herself as James refilled her cup.
James sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately, they’re only available in New York. However… a merchant wearing a boar mask sometimes sells them abroad. If you spot him, just say the word ‘GACH-A-PON’”.
Everything was falling into place.
Trufflenose sighed, clearly annoyed. The type who wasn’t used to hearing “no.” She straightened up, smoothing over the disappointment. “Well then, shall we get to the business at hand? Three of my girls are out of commission. I’ll be needing three potions. Unfortunately, our herbalist’s hands are tied—the mercenaries and the Duke’s men always have priority.”
James leaned forward, all business. “You’ll need to describe the symptoms. Our remedies aren’t one-size-fits-all.”
Trufflenose pursed her lips. “The first one has sores on her... bud. Red, swollen. We think it’s the nether pox. We’re granted her some time off.”
James and I exchanged a look. Syphilis. Easily treated. Ethan, Thornhill’s doctor, had run us through all the major STIs that a place like this could be rabid with.
“The second? Warts. Itching. We thought they were bed bugs, but a regular came back complaining he had the same thing.”
Genital warts. Viral. Not something we could cure.
“The last one... well, there’s a discharge. Yellowish. We’re thinking it’s the Running Sickness.”
Gonorrhea. Another one we could handle.
I dug into my bag, pulling out two bundles wrapped in leaves, each filled with tiny pills. Handing them over, James explained, “These will take care of the sores and the Running Sickness. The warts? No cure for that in our kit, unfortunately.”
Trufflenose narrowed her eyes, swirling her tea. “Do forgive my skepticismmmmm. I have been burned before by those so-called remedies.”
James smiled easily. “Tell you what—take these for free. Have your girls use them twice a day. If they work, great. If not, no charge.”
That got her attention. “How intriguing. Most elixir peddlers insist on payment upfront. You truly possess such confidence?”
“We’re not after a quick sale,” I chimed in with James helping in translation. “We’re looking for a long-term partnership. Your employees and clients shouldn’t have to pay such exorbitant herbalist fees to treat the consequences of indulgence.”
Trufflenose paused, contemplating with a graceful nod. "Very well, very well. I see no harm in this venture. But mark my words: if it fails, you shan't see a single coin from me."
“Shall we get that in writing?” I smiled under my mask, already reaching for my papers.
I stepped out and returned with a contract and a magical quill. The contract was straightforward—no need for legalese. I hate those endless agreements no one reads, and I sure as hell didn’t want authority involved.
Treatment Agreement
Client: The Silk Lotus
Product Provided: Two Portions of the Healing Elixir (commonly known as Penicillin)
Agreed Price: Two Second Mints for each Portion of the Healing Elixir
Agreement Terms: Should the afflictions known as the Nether Pox and the Running Sickness be cured, or show visible signs of improvement, after the daily consumption of the elixir for seven days, the House of the Silk Lotus shall duly compensate with Two Second Mints per ailment treated.
Witnesses:
James Taylor
Trufflenose
Signatures:
__________________________________
__________________________________
The Madame read through it slowly, sipping her tea while James refilled her cup. After a few passes, she signed with the magical quill, and I followed suit. With a little flourish, I tucked the quill and contract into my palms.
“Lovely. Let’s hope this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership,” James grinned.
“Mmhmm…” Trufflenose said, eyeing him thoughtfully. “Oh, this is quite delightful... where did you get this tea? It’s simply divineee.”
I didn’t miss the glint in her eye—she wanted more. And bad. The kind of hunger that makes people do rash things. Her craving for the tea was much more intense than what the mouse farmers felt. “
We’ve only got two bags left,” I said, leaning back. “And I don’t think I can bear to part with them.”
“There must be a way to get moreeeee,” she pressed.
“I heard a rumor that a company is being set up shortly to import such fine goods… something East India Company or other, I think…” I mused.
She leaned in, desperate. “What if... I buy one bag from you? I must have some. My sisters will find this tea blend absolutely divineeeeeee. Name your price.”
Ah, the magic words. I let them hang in the air before casually replying, “I suppose... I could let it go for a First.”
Trufflenose’s eyes widened. “Not a First, darling. Let’s be reasonable.”
“Alright,” I relented, pretending to mull it over. “Nine Seconds.”
She squirmed, clearly pained by the offer, glancing at James like she expected more tea. When none came, she finally gave in, fishing out nine Second mints and placing them on the tray. I took the coins and passed her the tea.
She immediately unscrewed the lid and inhaled deeply, her nose twitching. “Ah… my sisters will be sooooo jealous.”
We lounged over tea and cakes a bit longer. Trufflenose introduced me to some of her “good friends”—all decked out in fine jewelry and swathed in silks. It’s not just about what you know; it’s who you know that really counts when it comes to raking in the cash.
Finishing the last of her tea, Trufflenose stood up elegantly. “I’ve got some urgent business to handle. You’ve been quite the fascinating company. If your husband takes a liking to any of our flowers, I’d be delighted to send one as a little gift to tie up our business. I have a feeling we’ll run into each other again soon,” she said with a playful wink, before gliding away with her jar of tea and our medicine in tow.
As she left, I couldn’t help but smile. We had her hooked, and The Silk Lotus was just the first plot in the garden we planned to grow. The waiting room here? A goldmine of connections—high society wives, gossip, and the latest craze in fancy pottery trends. The perfect place to network and build connections for the next stage of my plan.