The Mimic Becomes a Merchant King

"It has been some time since Ser graced us with a visit. It was quite a shock when his missive arrived via courier bird," Domajor said, leading them along the main hallway. The plush red rug muffled their footsteps. The paintings on the wall watched them in silence, as if judging them.

Pearl gawked open-mouthed at their lush surroundings. "Elijah owns a mansion like this, and he spends that much time on the road instead?"

"Ser is an... adventurer," Domajor replied, enunciating the word 'adventurer' with the same inflection one would use for a word like 'gonorrhoea.' "He prefers the road to the comforts of his bed here. Still, I work well to run a tight ship in the event of his return."

It was certainly not an understatement. Every surface in the manor was spick and span, tended with great care. Venture Manor was a place that dust feared and dreaded to even think of, and dust bunnies had been ruthlessly hunted to extinction.

As they went along, they passed an assortment of young maids in finely tailored black dresses. They curtsied to the guests in passing, bowing to a degree that could not have been physically comfortable.

Their eyes would lock onto Coin in passing, flooded with a strong sense of longing. And then the maids would scurry back to their duties the second Domajor set his sights on them.

An annoyed sigh rose in his throat.

"Ser," he murmured to Coin, barely audible. "It is not my place to say what Ser DiVenture's apprentice should do. But the maids here are all very well trained, and it would be a travesty to have to retrain replacements if any of them were to suddenly be taken away by matters of maternity. If you take my meaning."

Coin stared at him with a blank, uncomprehending stare. "Uh-huh," he eventually replied, not sure of what else to say.

Domajor gave him a faint frown, and inwardly wondered what cabbage patch Elijah had fished this young man out of. They reached the rear of the house, where the corridor diverged in two directions.

"Lady Pearl, Lady Essine, you will find your rooms just here. Guest rooms that have been kept in pristine condition. Should you need anything, the maids shall oblige without complaint."

"Oblige... this one?" Essine asked in disbelief.

Domajor nodded. "When you are under this roof, within these walls, it does not matter what race you are. You are a guest of Ser DiVenture, and that makes you almost regal."

"Well, finally I get the treatment I deserve." Pearl excitedly rubbed her hands together. "Now I just need a maid to run a bath for me, and I'll be right as rain!"

Domajor led Coin in the opposite direction, toward a small staircase that led to the second floor. "As you are Ser DiVenture's apprentice, you will be given a larger room. And, as with your companions, you need only ask if you need anything."

Coin nodded absentmindedly, much of his attention fixated on a golden wall clock just ahead of him. He thought he had overcome his base instincts entirely. But a part of him so dearly wanted to open wide and swallow the clock whole.

He opened the varnished redwood door and stood aside so Coin could enter. The room was massive, big enough that he could fit his inn room from Grafia inside more than three times over with room to spare. The bed at the far side of the room looked dangerously comfortable. The sort that, if someone were to sleep upon it, would ensnare them in an unbreakable slumber.

His gaze roamed across the other furnishings, wardrobes and cabinets that had been created by master carpenters and painted to perfection. The walls were a warm burgundy shade, a contrast to the white that dominated the walls in the corridors.

"If there is nothing else, Master Coin, I should be on my way. I have many other duties to attend to."

"Ah, r-right," Coin replied. The scale of everything had left him rather overwhelmed. A vision of Elijah's vault flashed in his mind. He still found it hard to believe Elijah chose to live the way that he did. "Thank you, Domajor." The butler left and closed behind him.

Left to his own devices, Coin explored the expansive room. He opened a wardrobe, partially to sate his own curiosity, and was shocked to see a series of coats similar to his green longcoat hanging inside. A note was pinned to the door.

'Old Elijah asked for a few spares to be sent this way after your last visit. Enjoy!

-Guildencrantz.'

Coin smiled despite himself. So, Elijah had expected on him to visit here at some point? The thought warmed his heart. Or whatever passed for one in Coin's chest.

When he checked the drawers near the bed, he found more shirts and slacks tailored to his size within. And, ultimately, he saw no harm in changing his current clothing for a new set.

He did not need to clean himself with the same regularity of a human. But he would see about getting a bath drawn later, just to keep up appearances.

It was as he was adjusting the sleeves of his new shirt, forgoing donning a coat for now, that a gentle knock rapped upon his door.

"Ser? Are you decent?" It wasn't Domajor's leaden voice.

"Ah. I am, yes," Coin replied, fixing his starched collar.

The elf who entered was dressed near-identical to Domajor, right down to the tall socks that linked to his knee-length britches. But he was markedly shorter, however. His skin was a sandy hue of brown, and he so slim of build and with such a soft face that he could have easily have passed for a woman. His golden hair framed the sides of his face in ringlets, the majority of it tied back in a bun.

But when he spoke, there was a clear masculine note to his voice. "A pleasure to meet with you. I am Leonid, Master Domajor's apprentice."

Coin regarded Leonid quietly for several moments. It was hard to tell how old the beautiful elf was, a common trait among most elves. He could have been anywhere between 20 and 80. And though he was a few inches taller than the elf, the difference in height did little to dissuade Leonid's confident posture.

"I wouldn't have thought a man in his position would have an apprentice," he admitted.

"Master Domajor is a busy man, so he is happy to have help where he can get it. And, ultimately, he does not plan on keeping this position indefinitely," Leonid explained, maintaining a calm and polite smile throughout. "And, as we are both apprentices, Master Domajor asked me to personally see to your needs while you are here."

The idea of having servants, to Coin, remained an odd human invention that he did not quite understand. Well he supposed it made sense for humans to want to have an underling to handle all their duties for them, but it was hard to imagine a human wanting to take on that servile position willingly.

Even if money was that tempting, why were people willing to take on such a burden?

Human society was such a strange thing. So much of it was something he felt he could only ever touch at the tip of the iceberg when he tried to comprehend it. But so long as he could act the part, that would suffice.

"Well... er..." he rubbed slowly at the back of his neck. "If you insist. I don't mind."

"Wonderful. Please, allow me to welcome you properly." The slim elf ventured outside the door briefly before wheeling in a cart. A silver carafe stood atop the cart, flanked by a large white cup. Steam hissed from the lip of the carafe, filling the air with a sweet scent. Slowly, with practiced elegance, Leonid tipped a dark brown liquid into the cup.

For a moment, Coin briefly feared he was being gifted a cup of coffee. The thought alone made his skin squirm beneath his clothing, vividly recalling the foul taste of his first coffee. But the scent was entirely different, much milder and sweeter.

"In the far southlands, in the warm climates of Onskara, they grow a plant called cacao. The Onskarians have found a myriad of ways to use the by-products of this plant, often for sweet confections. Most beloved by Ser DiVenture is a drink known as hot chocolate."

Leonid stepped back, allowing Coin to lift the cup to his lips. He blew on it a few times, trying to drive some of the steaming heat away.

"Smells rather sweet," Coin murmured.

"Tastes even sweeter, I assure you," Leonid said, beaming. "Ser was quite a fan when he first sampled for himself. And though it is rather expensive to have it imported, even through a mediator in Kaghyria, he has seen to having a preserved stockpile in our cellar."

Coin took a sip. In an instant his mouth was flooded with a strong, creamy and sugary scent that sent a shudder racing down the length of his body. It was... it was delicious!

"This is delicious!" Coin exclaimed, briefly mentally attuned to the narrator in a stroke of cosmic coincidence.

A bright smile lingered on Leonid's face. "I'm glad you are a fan, Ser Thaeka," he said, guiding a lock of hair behind his right ear.

Coin drank slowly, occasionally darting his gaze to meet Leonid's. He cleared his throat and licked his lips clean. "Well, er, this is a very nice welcome. Do you usually have guests?"

"Very rarely. Ser does not come home often, and does not host many functions or guests as a result. But Master Domajor is an astute teacher, and has taught me the art of treating guests with care."

"Well," Coin peered into his cup, and then to the carafe likely containing a much greater quantity of hot chocolate. Again his resolve and urges were tempted, a strong desire to slurp the whole thing in one go flooding his mind. "I'd say you're doing a great job."

"My thanks, Ser Thaeka," the elf replied. "Dinner shall be served within the next two hours, signalled by the bell down the hall. Ideally, Ser DiVenture will be home by then."