The inn's floor had never looked so clean—or so ominous.
Elena Virelle crouched down with a bucket of lukewarm water and a rag that had seen better centuries, diligently scrubbing at a dark stain near the doorway of the Willow's Rest. Her hands ached from the repetitive motion, but her ears perked up, ever-attentive to the conversations drifting in from the main hall.
"…and I told him, if the Duke wants a shipment that size, he best pay more than five gold crowns!"
That caught her attention. Five gold crowns? That was enough to pay her current monthly wages ten times over.
She pressed her rag against the floor and leaned back, stretching her sore arms. What did he mean by shipment? Was it spices? Potions? Arms? She had no idea, but it sounded important—and expensive.
"You're eavesdropping again, aren't you?" came a familiar voice.
Elena startled, nearly tipping the bucket. She looked up to find Liora standing over her, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Not eavesdropping. Listening... with intent to learn," Elena corrected, wringing out her rag with excessive innocence.
Liora rolled her eyes but knelt down beside her anyway. "At least you're ambitious. Most folks just clean and curse."
"I want to understand how things work here. What's worth five gold crowns? What's common knowledge? What's dangerous to know?" Elena gave her a hopeful look. "Will you teach me?"
Liora sighed, glancing over her shoulder. The inn's early morning lull had settled in; most of the guests were still asleep or hungover from the previous night's festivities. "Fine. But mop while I talk, or Auntie Melda will flay us both."
Elena grinned and resumed scrubbing.
---
Learning the Language of Coins
"So. Five gold crowns?" Elena prompted.
"That merchant was talking about enchanted defense talismans. He's shipping them to a border town near the Pale Marshes," Liora explained, propping her elbows on her knees. "One basic talisman costs around two silver crowns if it's beginner-level enchantment. But a high-grade one? Could go for five gold—more if it's custom work."
Elena paused, letting that sink in.
She remembered the conversion rates now: 10 copper crowns = 1 silver crown, 10 silver = 1 gold. That meant a beginner enchantment was roughly 20 copper, or two days' wages at her current job. A high-grade talisman? A hundred times that.
"What's the average person's daily wage?"
"A stablehand earns 5 to 8 copper crowns a day. If you're a cleaner, like you, it's about 6 a day with meals included. Artisans earn more, depending on skill. Alchemists, mages… they rake it in. Though they also burn through ingredients fast."
Elena resumed scrubbing, now more thoughtful than before. So if I saved every copper, didn't eat or sleep under a roof, I'd need… years to afford one talisman. But if I learned how to make them...
Liora nudged her shoulder. "Thinking of becoming a mage now?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"You've got 'systematic obsession' written all over you."
---
The Politics of a Mop
Later that afternoon, the innkeeper Melda assigned Elena to clean the small upstairs study that rarely saw use—mostly due to its cluttered state and the thick layers of dust coating everything inside.
"This was my late husband's workspace," Melda said, her voice softening. "He was a historian. Couldn't throw out a single scrap of parchment if it had a scribble on it. Just tidy. Don't toss."
Elena nodded solemnly and stepped inside. The air was thick with must and forgotten stories. She opened the windows, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.
As she dusted the desk, a weathered book fell to the floor with a quiet thump. She bent down to pick it up and froze.
"A Concise History of the Kingdom of Andraeth."
She sat down right there on the wooden floor, legs crossed, book in her lap.
---
Snippets of History
The kingdom of Andraeth, she learned, had once been part of a larger empire—the Veyr Dominion—that stretched across three continents. After the Great Fracture, a magical cataclysm nearly 300 years ago, the Dominion crumbled. Out of its ashes rose smaller kingdoms, chief among them Andraeth, ruled by a noble lineage tracing its roots back to pre-Fracture mages.
The current ruler, Queen Ysolde III, was known for her progressive reforms—establishing guilds, supporting lower-tier magical academies, and restructuring tax systems to curb noble power. Unsurprisingly, she had made many enemies.
The book went on to describe the political struggle between the Mage Assembly, the Merchant Syndicate, and the CrownedCouncil. Each faction vied for influence, subtly—or not so subtly—pushing their agendas through trade, policy, or clandestine sabotage.
Elena's head spun. I just wanted to know how money worked. Now I'm neck-deep in centuries of magical politics.
She closed the book gently and stared out the window. The world outside looked the same—peaceful, ordinary—but her perception had shifted. She now knew that even the price of bread could be a pawn in someone's political game.
---
An Accidental Discovery
In the corner of the study, Elena spotted a leather-bound ledger with dozens of bookmarked pages. Curious, she flipped through it and discovered it was a record of potion sales from 30 years ago.
Basic healing potions were listed at 12 copper crowns apiece, but some rarer concoctions—like flame resistance tinctures—sold for up to 3 silver crowns. Some entries noted commissions paid to apprentice alchemists: 3 to 5 copper per bottle, depending on their rank.
She made a quick mental calculation. If I learned basic alchemy, even making ten beginner potions a day could net me more than double my current wage. And that's just apprentice level.
Elena closed the ledger and hugged it to her chest. Another piece of the world had just unlocked itself.
---
Back to the Real World
When she brought the cleaned-up study report to Melda, the innkeeper blinked in surprise.
"You even straightened the old ledger shelf?"
"It looked lonely," Elena said with a shy smile.
Melda laughed. "You're odd, girl. But useful."
Later that night, Elena helped serve dinner in the main hall, her thoughts still tangled in political factions and potion prices.
As she passed by a corner table, she overheard a conversation between two cloaked figures.
"…shipment's leaving for the Academy under disguise. If the Mage Assembly finds out, we're both dead."
Elena's hands froze on the tray.
Another thread. Another secret.
I wonder how deep this rabbit hole goes.
---
[End of chapter 14.]