Offering Contracts.

The traders settled around the long sofa in the meeting room. their gazes flickering nervously over the modest furnishings. the peeling paint on the walls and the echo of their footsteps in the high, empty ceilings. The estate might have been Crestford by title, but it was still hollow, still rebuilding and they all knew Elias had traded gold for dirt.

Still, none dared say it aloud now.

The young maid entered silently. She carried a silver tray of tea and some snacks but no one cared about it. She moved carefully and set down cups in front of each guest. the porcelain clinked gently as she poured. The scent of cardamom and jasmine wafted through the air, but not a single trader lifted their cup.

Their hands twitched near the saucers as they forced themself to pick the cup even when the tea was not up to their standard. Their eyes flickered toward Elias, who sat leisurely at the head of the table. His expressions did not give him a slightest clue on how to start with the matter. He sat there leisurely as if he had all the time for the world while they were losing their patience.

Elias made no move toward his own cup. Instead, his voice cut through the silence with a gentle firmness that made them all tense.

"So," he said calmly, "what issues did you want to discuss?"

It was a simple question they were waiting for. The start they needed, yet it made them uneasy.

"My lord," the oldest trader began, voice shaking slightly despite his rich garments, "we only came to understand your intentions. You see, we were surprised."

Another leaned forward with his hands clasped tightly. "We thought that we… based on our previous conversations, that we would be involved in the development of the new land. We were prepared to invest, to handle the clearance, the setup of the new resorts and tourist spots, maybe even build a new bridge or roads."

"But now," the first interrupted, unable to restrain himself, "we have not been invited by you anymore. And if we follow you, you do not give us any reply." he gestured around the table with a weak laugh, "and last time we have met on the land, you have insulted us in front of the commoners and now we were not permitted to even step foot on the land we discussed."

"We were to receive a share," another added, his voice edged with panic. "A share of the development and gold from the trade line you promised, once the land would be in use."

"But there is no trade," the second man choked out. "There is no clearance announced by you so far. And you have not hired anyone to do it in the future either. And you have given us no contracts. We don't understand what is happening."

Elias rested his chin against his folded fingers with a patient look, "I don't recall signing anything."

"No, no, my lord, of course not," the first trader rushed. "It was verbal and trusted among gentlemen. We had no reason to think otherwise."

"So you believe now that I wouldn't keep my word?" Elias offered smoothly. The room stilled again. Several traders bowed their heads, flushing.

One of them, the youngest, leaned forward suddenly and bowed until his forehead nearly touched the table. His voice was hoarse with desperation. "We betrayed Lord Velmore for you. We gave up decades of dealings and favors, those partnerships just to be associated with Crestford again. And now we are locked out of the only land deal we were offered?"

He looked up, pain evident in his eyes.

"Was it fair?"

Another followed his lead, bowing low, knuckles clenched white on the edge of the table. "We know we didn't treat you well before. When you returned, we may have hesitated. But we were only protecting our standing. Once we knew you were serious, we supported you. We risked everything to leave Velmore's side. And now… now we have nothing. You promised us, my lord."

A third whispered, barely audible, "Please. We are ruined without you."

Elias let them speak, enjoying their grovel. He wanted them to tear their pride apart, thread by thread, right where they had once spat on him.

His eyes moved over their bowed heads, each a face he had once seen smiling as a slave was dragged past them, each a man who had stepped over broken backs to reach their deals with Velmore. He remembered them all, how they used to call slaves pests. How one of them laughed when Elias was whipped for dropping a tray.

And now? Now their voices trembled, their necks bent and their hands shook not from rage but from fear. Elias smoothed a nonexistent crease on his sleeve and offered a slow, polite smile.

"You say you gave up your relationship with Velmore but was that out of loyalty to me? Or because you thought I was the safer bet?"

No one answered that because everyone already knew the facts.

"I made no written promise," Elias said gently. "And the land, as you said, has not earned anything yet. Nor have you invested anything into it. So technically and morally, even you have no claim."

One of the men stiffened in panic. "Then what are we to you? Are you going to discard us just like this.?"

Elias gave a small shrug. "I prefer the term 'unnecessary.'"

The blow hit harder than a slap. No one dared speak for a moment. The silence became thick and oppressive.

Then Elias stood slowly and turned away from them, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed toward the arched window, where the sun had begun to dip behind the ruined garden.

He spoke without turning around. 

"But i will not use it for you of course, you are my first allies. We have to work together on that land." They all exchanged glances. Confusion was slowly heading and a new hope was replacing it.

"Then why did you stop us from clearing the land?" one asked hesitating and Elias finally turned to look at them again.

"Because I have my plans for it. But when it comes to constructing tea houses and tourist spots. I will give you the chance. And to show my sincerity, I invite tenders from you for construction of different buildings and I will sign the contract immediately."