Success attracts shadows. In the smoke-hazed taverns of South Quay, whispers bloomed of a rival contraption: *The Velocite*, built by Duchess Meren's engineers. Sleek iron frame, claimed half again the speed of Darsha cycles. Three prototypes, rumored unveiling at the Spring Equinox Fair.
Sharath's workshop hummed with speculation—and fear. If Meren captured market excitement, contracts might pivot. Henrik growled, smashing a defective bearing. "Let them try—our steel sings truer." Still, worry coiled in every heart.
Sharath decreed a fact-finding mission. Mira and Garrick posed as itinerant traders, traveled to Meren's port. They returned with sketches drawn on sailcloth: a light frame, yes, but held together by thin rivets; a curious belt-drive prone to slip in salt air; worst, a brake-band of untreated leather.
Yet performance on empty docks meant little; public spectacle could still enthrall. Sharath chose transparency. Instead of sabotage, he invited Duchess Meren to a joint demonstration—open arena, impartial judges, weighted cargos.
Meren's retinue arrived in a parade of crimson and gold. The Velocite prototypes gleamed darkly, riders clad in matching breastplates. Crowds thronged the fairgrounds, spring banners snapping.
First heat: 50-stone grain load, half-league course. At the horn, Velocites shot forward, belts whining; Darsha cycles accelerated more steadily. Mid-course a Velocite rider hit a cobble, belt slipped—machine skittered like a startled eel, rider tumbling. Garrick's apprentice slowed to help, drawing cheers for sportsmanship.
Second heat: uphill climb. Darsha gears bit dirt; Velocite belts squealed, momentum dying. By final tally, Darsha won two heats of three; Meren's did not finish last, preserving her pride.
Public opinion crowned functionality over flash. Afterwards, Duchess Meren—face rigid—approached Sharath. "Innovation breathes competition. Today you lead. Tomorrow—who knows?"
Sharath bowed. "Then tomorrow we build better—together, if you wish." He offered blueprint access in exchange for her mines' manganese alloy. Surprise flickered across her eyes—then calculation, then reluctant respect. "I shall consider."
That night, he told Elina by courier mirror, "A competitor sharpens the blade. Cooperation tempers it. We may forge both."