Chapter 18

It was mid-afternoon, and I found myself sitting in an ornate Roman-style eatery, the kind where the elite lounged on recliners as servants fluttered about, ensuring every detail of their dining experience was flawless. The restaurant was the very epitome of indulgence, with marble columns adorned in gold leaf and tapestries hanging from the walls that depicted tales of conquest and the glory of emperors long past. The smell of roasted meats, seasoned to perfection, mingled with the sweet fragrance of freshly baked bread. Everything about the place screamed opulence.

The kind of lunch they served here wasn't for those with weak appetites. My meal was about to begin, a grand spread of roasted pheasant, honey-glazed figs, and warm, soft bread that came with an array of spreads—fig jam, garlic butter, and a tangy olive paste. These were the kinds of dishes reserved for the wealthiest of patrons, and I was fitting right in. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon, all things considered. I hadn't even taken my first bite when a woman caught my eye, making a rather unsubtle entrance.

She didn't come alone. Flanked by a bodyguard—definitely not a relative, not with those bulging arms and a face that looked like it had been sculpted from granite—she strolled through the restaurant with the confidence of someone who knew the world bent to her will. Every step she took was deliberate, graceful. Her clothes were no less impressive, a deep crimson stola draped perfectly over her figure, the fabric shimmering in the light, accentuating her every movement. She was stunning, and not just in the superficial way most women of status tried to be. Her beauty was layered with something more dangerous—intelligence.

And just like that, she was at my table.

"I'm Valeria," she said, her voice smooth and practiced, as if she had introduced herself like this a thousand times before. "Lady Valeria of House Livius." She didn't wait for me to respond, already taking the seat across from me without so much as a hint of permission.

Well, that was one way to make an entrance. I leaned back slightly, studying her. Noble, sure. Beautiful, obviously. But there was more. The way she spoke, the way she carried herself, this wasn't some bored aristocrat looking to pass the time. She was here with intent.

"David Goodchild," I replied, keeping my tone casual but with just enough charm to keep the conversation flowing. I wasn't going to let her see that she had piqued my interest. Not yet, anyway.

Her eyes sparkled briefly as I said my name. She had heard of me. I could tell.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, even though she was already comfortably seated.

I gestured to the empty table, giving her a look that said, "Well, you're already here, aren't you?" This would be interesting. A woman like Valeria didn't make a move unless it was calculated, and that meant I had to be just as sharp. I couldn't help but think about some of the things I'd said in my podcast. Women, especially those like her, don't seek out men unless they see value. The world was a battlefield for them, and alliances were made, not based on feelings, but on utility.

I leaned forward slightly, resting my chin on my hand, curious about what her game was. She wasn't like Livia, a noblewoman I'd met earlier in my stay in this city, who was as subtle as a hammer when it came to persuasion. No, Valeria was smoother, more refined. She could teach a masterclass in manipulation, the way her words flowed like wine, each one carefully chosen to steer the conversation exactly where she wanted it to go.

"So, David," she said, her tone polite but with that subtle edge that spoke of power, "I've heard you've been making waves in the city."

I shrugged, taking a sip of wine. "Just a few ripples. I'm more of a quiet observer."

Valeria smiled, her lips curving in that way that told me she wasn't buying my modesty for a second. "Ripples can turn into tsunamis if they're not controlled."

Ah, there it was. The subtle jab, the veiled warning. She was good.

"I suppose it depends on where those ripples are directed," I countered, matching her tone. "Sometimes, they can create beautiful patterns. Other times... well, you know how it is."

She laughed lightly, a practiced sound that felt a little too perfect. "And what kind of pattern are you hoping to create in our dear city, David?"

I tapped my fingers on the table, pretending to ponder her question. In truth, I already knew she was steering me somewhere, but the game was too enjoyable to stop. This was something I had spoken about on my podcast. The art of conversation, especially with women like Valeria, was about navigating the dance of influence without losing yourself in the performance. It was a standoff, a battle where neither party showed their hand too soon.

"I'm just here to make some connections," I said finally, leaning back in my chair. "It seems like a good place for someone with my... talents."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly interested in my vague answer. "Talents, you say? I've heard you've quite a few."

"I do what I can," I replied with a smirk.

The conversation continued, each of us testing the waters, seeing how much the other would reveal. Valeria was skilled, no doubt about it. Every word she spoke was a calculated move, designed to pull me closer without giving too much away herself. And she did it all with such grace, such dignity, that it was almost easy to forget that this was a negotiation, not a casual chat over lunch.

As our conversation drifted from politics to business, she leaned in just slightly, lowering her voice enough to create an air of intimacy. "There's a gathering tomorrow night," she said. "A private event. I think you'd enjoy it. The sort of people you're looking to meet will be there."

Now that was interesting. A party hosted by one of the city's most prominent nobles, no doubt filled with influential figures. This was exactly the kind of opportunity I needed to make my mark. And yet, I knew there was more to her offer than just a simple invitation. Women like Valeria didn't give out favors for free. There was always a catch, always a string attached.

But I wasn't going to let her know I was thinking that.

"Sounds like it could be fun," I said, keeping my tone light, as if it was just another social engagement and not a potential career-changing event.

She smiled, clearly pleased with my response. "I'll send my man with the details."

Just as Valeria rose from the table, her delicate hand brushing the fabric of her crimson stola, I felt a sudden impulse. I reached into the small pouch I kept on my person, retrieving one of the pendants I had crafted the previous night. I had intended to sell it at the next auction, but this was an opportunity too good to miss. I couldn't let Valeria walk away without leaving something in her possession—something that would make her remember me long after she left this elegant eatery.

"Before you go," I said, my voice smooth and casual, though my intention was anything but, "I'd like you to have this."

I held out the pendant, a small piece of jewelry but laden with powerful, protective runes. The silver gleamed in the soft afternoon light, and the gem—a perfectly cut sapphire—caught her eye immediately. For a split second, her composed mask slipped, and I saw a flash of genuine surprise. She didn't expect this, and certainly not something of this quality.

Her fingers brushed against mine as she took the pendant, and I could feel her studying it. The cool, calculated woman who had just skillfully maneuvered our conversation suddenly showed a moment of vulnerability. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as she examined the intricate runes etched into the back of the pendant, subtle but potent. I had spent hours perfecting the magic that pulsed through it. This wasn't a mere trinket—this was protection, powerful enough to deflect most forms of dark magic.

"You... made this?" she asked, her voice a touch softer now, a rare hint of genuine curiosity slipping through her polished exterior.

I nodded, letting a small smile play at the corners of my lips. "Just something I've been working on. Thought it might suit you."

For the briefest moment, I saw her lose her composure. A flicker of red flushed her cheeks—embarrassment? No, that wasn't right. It was more like surprise mixed with admiration, as if she had underestimated me and was now realizing the depth of my skill. Valeria quickly regained her composure, of course. She was too well-versed in the art of manipulation to let her emotions show for long.

She recovered with a sly smile, her voice turning smooth and confident again. "Well, this is quite the gift, David. But I suppose it's only fitting." Her gaze locked onto mine, challenging and amused. "If you're going to give me something like this, you'd better put it on me yourself."

Her words were deliberate, almost like an invitation. I wasn't naive enough to think this wasn't another one of her power plays, but I wasn't going to back down. If she wanted to see how far she could push me, I'd play the game with her.

I stood, stepping behind her as she lifted her hair, revealing the graceful curve of her neck. I couldn't help but notice the stillness that came over the room at that moment—the way it felt as if the other patrons had faded into the background, leaving only the two of us in the center of it all. With careful hands, I draped the pendant around her neck, fastening the delicate chain at the back. The sapphire settled just below her collarbone, catching the light with a soft gleam.

For a moment, there was silence. Valeria seemed to bask in the sensation, like she was being crowned, her posture straight and regal, as if I had just acknowledged her as the queen of this little game. She turned her head slightly, her eyes catching mine from the corner of her gaze, her expression unreadable, but I could feel the tension in the air between us shift. The balance of power tilted ever so slightly, but in whose favor, I wasn't quite sure.

Finally, she turned fully, her hand brushing the pendant, her fingers lightly grazing the gem as if testing its weight. She gave me a polite smile—no, more than polite. There was a hint of genuine appreciation there, beneath the layers of her practiced poise. "Thank you, David. It's... exquisite."

Her bodyguard, who had remained stoic and silent throughout our entire exchange, took a step forward, signaling that their time here was done. With a final look, Valeria inclined her head, the pendant resting against her skin, as she gracefully turned and walked away.

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself as I watched her go, her bodyguard trailing a step behind. Valeria had been good—better than most, even better than Livia. But I had held my own. This wasn't just about words. It was about leverage. Persuasion was an art, and while she may have thought she had the upper hand, I knew how to charm, how to navigate these delicate power struggles. She might think I was an easy mark, but the truth was, I had plans of my own. She wasn't leading me into anything I didn't want. No, I would play along—but on my terms.

As the echoes of her footsteps faded, I took another bite of my meal, savoring the richness of the roasted pheasant. The figs were sweet, the bread still warm, and the wine had just the right amount of bite. The food here never disappointed, but my mind was already elsewhere. Tomorrow night, at Valeria's party, the real game would begin.

After finishing my meal, I decided it was time to head back to the inn. The streets were quieter now, the day beginning to fade into early evening. The walk was uneventful, though my thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation with Valeria. She was formidable, no doubt, but I had given her something to think about. The pendant would remind her that I wasn't just some outsider with a charming smile—I was someone with skills, someone who could offer her more than she had anticipated.

The inn was a welcome sight as I approached. The familiar creak of the wooden door and the low murmur of voices from the common room greeted me as I stepped inside. The warmth of the fire and the scent of spiced meat filled the air. I nodded at the innkeeper and made my way up to my room.

Once inside, I closed the door behind me with a sigh, the events of the day finally catching up to me. I had held my own with Valeria, but tomorrow would bring new challenges. I couldn't afford to be caught off guard. The room was quiet, but the silence wasn't comforting. It felt like the calm before a storm.

I stripped off my outer garments and sat at the edge of the bed, stretching my tired muscles. I needed rest, but before I could allow myself that luxury, there was work to be done. Tomorrow's party would be full of people like Valeria—nobles and power players, each one with their own agenda.

--

The next evening had arrived all too quickly. I had spent most of the day holed up in my workshop, fine-tuning every protection rune I could think of. By the time I was done, nearly every piece of clothing I was wearing had some form of enchantment woven into it. My boots had a simple ward against detection, the lapel of my coat held a deflection rune, and even the small ring on my finger pulsed with subtle magic designed to shield me from any spell that might try to worm its way into my mind. I wasn't paranoid, exactly—just prepared.

As I sat in the hired carriage, the leather seats squeaking slightly with every bump in the road, I couldn't help but wonder if my choice of transport was going to betray the image I was trying to project tonight. Arriving in style was important in this city, where appearances spoke louder than anything else. But a hired carriage? That was more "modestly wealthy" than "power player." I could only hope no one noticed or cared too much.

The ride through the upper city was a steady climb, both literally and metaphorically. The streets became cleaner, the buildings grander, as we moved farther from the bustling markets and common folk. Here, the mansions stood proud and imposing, their gardens manicured to perfection, each one an expression of wealth and power. The road led me to Valeria's estate, and it was nothing short of impressive.

The mansion loomed ahead, a fortress in all but name. Massive iron gates stretched across the entrance, and though they were ornate, with intricate designs of mythical beasts entwined in their bars, they didn't hide the fact that this place was built to keep people out. The stone walls surrounding the estate were high, almost militaristic, with small guard towers spaced out evenly along the perimeter. It was a house, sure, but it might as well have been a castle.

As we neared the gate, I could see the line of carriages ahead of me, each one sleeker and more polished than the last. Wealthy nobles, dressed in the finest silks and adorned with enough jewelry to fund a small army, stepped gracefully out of their carriages and made their way toward the brightly lit mansion. The women were stunning, every one of them a vision of elegance. Their gowns flowed like water as they walked, shimmering with embedded jewels or enchanted cloth that glittered in the soft glow of the lanterns. Some wore masks, delicate things that covered only part of their faces, adding an air of mystery to their already captivating beauty.

But it wasn't just the women who caught my attention. The men were equally striking, and many of them, despite their youthful appearance, were probably far older than they seemed. I'd knew that eating monster meat—the rare kind, imbued with magic—had certain... rejuvenating properties. It seemed the upper echelons of society had found a way to cheat age itself. Some of the men looked barely out of their twenties, but their eyes told a different story, hard and calculating. There was no innocence here, just power wrapped in youthful bodies.

Finally, my carriage pulled up to the gates. I stepped out alone, adjusting my coat and brushing a speck of dust from my sleeve as I took in the scene around me. I wasn't exactly the center of attention—yet. A few people glanced in my direction, but they quickly shifted their focus back to the more familiar faces arriving behind me. I could feel their curiosity, though, the way their eyes lingered for just a moment too long. I was still an unknown quantity in this world, but not for much longer.

The mansion itself was as grand as I expected, if not more so. Its exterior was crafted from gleaming white marble, with massive columns framing the entrance in a style that was unmistakably Roman. The steps leading up to the doors were wide and flanked by tall statues of warriors, each one carved in painstaking detail, their expressions frozen in stoic defiance. The large double doors were open, spilling warm light into the evening air, and the sound of laughter and music drifted out from within.

I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and made my way up the steps, nodding politely to the servants who greeted me at the door. Inside, the atmosphere shifted from one of rigid formality to something far more indulgent. The grand foyer was a riot of color and sound. Enormous tapestries hung from the walls, depicting scenes from ancient battles and mythological stories. The ceiling soared high above, painted with frescoes of gods and goddesses reclining in the clouds, their eyes gazing down as if judging the party beneath them.

The crowd inside was even more dazzling than the one I had seen outside. Everywhere I looked, people were draped in luxury, sipping wine from intricately designed goblets, their conversations filled with the kind of casual arrogance only the extremely wealthy could afford. Musicians played softly in one corner, their instruments producing a haunting melody that mingled with the clinking of glasses and the soft murmur of voices.

And the food—my gods, the food. Long banquet tables were laid out across the room, overflowing with delicacies that I had only heard of in passing. Roasted boar with figs, trays of stuffed peacocks, golden bowls of exotic fruits that looked as if they had been plucked from the gardens of the gods themselves. Servants moved gracefully between the guests, offering plates of honeyed dates and pouring wine into goblets that never seemed to empty.

It was a scene straight out of one of the ancient myths I had grown up reading—an endless feast for the gods, where mere mortals could only dream of being invited.

I could feel the weight of the evening settling onto my shoulders. This was no ordinary gathering. It was a display of power, of wealth, and of something much more dangerous. Everyone here had their own agenda, their own games to play. I was just another piece on the board, but I intended to be the one who controlled the moves.

As I navigated through the crowd, I caught snippets of conversation. The topics ranged from the mundane—discussions of trade deals and the latest court intrigue—to the more mysterious, whispered conversations about magic, forbidden artifacts, and political coups. It was all part of the same tapestry, woven together by those who held the real power in the city. And I was beginning to see the threads more clearly.

But I wasn't here just to listen. I had been invited for a reason, and Valeria had made it clear that this party was about more than just enjoying good wine and company. She had plans for me, and I needed to be ready.

Still, as I moved through the crowd, I couldn't help but notice the subtle looks, the whispers that followed me. I was a newcomer, after all. To them, I was an unknown, a curiosity. But that was exactly what I wanted—for now. They could wonder all they wanted. Soon enough, they would know my name, and they would remember it.

I made my way to the edge of the room, taking a goblet of wine from a passing servant as I leaned casually against one of the marble columns. From this vantage point, I could observe without being directly in the thick of things. The party was in full swing now, and the air was thick with tension, though most of the guests hid it behind their smiles and laughter.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for Valeria. I knew she would make an entrance eventually, and when she did, I wanted to be ready. But for now, I needed to focus. The protection runes I had painstakingly etched into my clothing and jewelry were humming softly, their magic pulsing in time with the energy of the room. I could feel the faint shield they created around me, a barrier of sorts, warding off any unwanted attention or spells. It was subtle but effective.

As I took another sip of wine, I couldn't help but wonder what the night had in store for me. Valeria's invitation had been anything but casual, and the way she had responded to my gift still lingered in my mind. There was something about her—a cunning that I couldn't quite place. She was playing her own game, and I had a feeling that I was a key part of it.