Finding A Way

Elisha's words hung in the air for a moment, earning the attention of all three of her brothers. Leonard, in particular, seemed the most intrigued by her sudden question. He raised an eyebrow before leaning back slightly in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Elisha, have you forgotten already?" he teased, his tone light but laced with curiosity. "I know you don't visit Father often, but surely you haven't lost your sense of direction in our own home?"

Elisha hesitated, then decided to take the bait. Feigning embarrassment, she nodded. "Yes. I must have… forgotten."

Leonard let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "My dear sister, I almost pity you. But since you've asked so sweetly, Father's study is down the eastern hall, third door on the right. Though, if I were you, I'd think twice before knocking. He's not in the best of moods these days."

"Thank you, Leonard," she said, standing from her chair. Alexander's gaze followed her, sharp and unreadable, but he said nothing. Julian, meanwhile, watched with wide eyes but didn't protest.

With quiet steps, Elisha left the dining hall, her mind already spinning.

The eastern hall was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a few scattered sconces mounted on the stone walls. As she walked, Elisha steadied herself, considering her approach. The Duke of Belmont was not a man she remembered clearly from the original Elisha's memories. She knew he was a formidable figure—stern, distant, and burdened by the weight of their family's struggles, but most of all, hurt by the death of his wife. But beyond that? He was a walking mystery.

Stopping in front of the third door on the right, she took a deep breath before raising her hand and knocking firmly.

"Go away," came a gruff voice from inside.

Elisha didn't budge. She knocked again, louder this time.

"I said, go away. I'm busy."

She swallowed, bracing herself. "Father, I want to talk to you."

There was an odd silence, as if he were considering something. Nonetheless, his response came in the same stern tone.

"We have nothing to discuss, Elisha. Go back to your room."

"I can help you with the trade negotiations!"

Another heavy pause followed. The air in the hallway grew thick, the weight of her words lingering between them. Then, at last, the sound of footsteps approached the door. A moment later, it creaked open, revealing the Duke of Belmont—her father.

He was a tall man with sharp, weathered features. His dark hair was streaked with silver, and his deep blue eyes, so similar to Alexander's, were clouded with exhaustion. It was clear that the entire family, excluding her younger brother, took after their mother. The duke studied her with an unreadable expression before stepping aside.

"Come in."

Elisha entered the study, and the door shut behind her. The room was cluttered with documents, ledgers, and maps spread across the grand mahogany desk. Candles flickered, casting long shadows across the bookshelves lining the walls. The scent of ink and aged parchment filled the air.

The Duke moved to his desk, his gaze never leaving her. "You claim you can help. Speak, and do so wisely."

He seemed pressured, desperate for a solution. But that only worked in Elisha's favor. She had no in-depth knowledge of trade negotiations, but she understood the time period she found herself in. If her father was struggling, it meant their family was running out of time.

"You're negotiating with the Lionhearts, aren't you?" she asked.

His expression didn't change, but the slight tension in his shoulders told her she was right.

"Yes. Our last trade agreement with them collapsed. We need new terms if we want to sustain the estate."

Elisha nodded. "Then tell me what went wrong."

Her father narrowed his eyes. "Why do you care?"

"Because this is my home, too," she replied firmly. "I may not have been involved before, but I want to change that. I want to help."

The Duke studied her, his gaze piercing. "You were never interested in such matters before. What has changed?"

"Everything," she admitted. "I see things differently now. And I know that if we keep failing, there won't be a future for any of us."

A long silence followed. Did I say too much? Elisha wondered, catching the way the duke scrutinized her. Did he think she had lost her mind? Was he about to send her away?

Then, with a quiet sigh, her father sat down, rubbing his temple. "The Lionhearts want exclusive trade rights over the eastern ports, as we have failed to pay our monthly dues. But if we give them that, we'll lose access to other potential traders. It's a risk we cannot afford."

Elisha considered this. This was her moment—make or break.

"Then why not renegotiate a shared agreement?" she suggested, feeling a bead of sweat slip down her chin.

Her father looked at her. "And…?"

With a final glance at the papers, she continued, "We offer them priority status instead. It gives them an advantage while still allowing us to seek other opportunities."

The Duke frowned slightly, but he didn't dismiss her idea outright. "They won't accept that easily."

"Then give them something to sweeten the deal," she suggested. "Perhaps lower tariffs on goods they import through our territory. It would benefit both parties."

Her father leaned back, thoughtful. "And what makes you think they'll agree?"

"Because we'll make ourselves indispensable," she said confidently. "If they truly wanted to take our ports, they would have done so already. Instead, they're demanding access because they see value in working with us. The Lionhearts are a powerful family with little time to waste. They need us to manage their money."

For the first time, something in her father's gaze shifted. He was no longer looking at her as just his daughter—he was evaluating her words as if she were an advisor.

"You may not be wrong," he admitted. "But negotiations require more than just ideas. You need strategy, leverage, and influence."

Elisha met his gaze steadily. "Then teach me."

The Duke exhaled slowly, glancing at the scattered documents on his desk. "If you truly wish to help, you will need to learn more than just trade. You must understand politics, diplomacy, and economics."

"I'm willing," she said without hesitation.

Another pause. Then, finally, he nodded. "Very well. But if you're serious about this, you must be prepared. The world of nobility is ruthless, Elisha. There is no room for weakness."

She straightened her back. "I understand."

The Duke studied her one last time before turning back to his documents. "Come here. I will explain the details of our situation."

Elisha stepped forward, a new determination settling in her heart. This was her chance—not just to survive, but to truly carve out a place for herself in this world. And she would not waste it.

For the first time, she was taking control of her fate.

And she would not fail.