The first caravan had returned intact, its profits counted and weighed. Word spread faster than the coin itself. The Tristan Mendez venture had delivered.
But where there was gain, there was jealousy. But jealousy rarely walks alone.
By the third morning after the caravan's return, Tristan was already bent over the ledgers in the study when Mira stormed in.
"They're spreading rumors," she said without preamble.
Tristan set down his quill. "Who?"
"Rivals. Traders loyal to Troy's old network, Carlos's friends, anyone who lost coin when we took their routes. They're saying the safe passage wasn't due to your wards or Shannon's guards." She leaned across the desk. "They're saying the High Crown itself ordered the roads cleared just to make you look good."
Tristan blinked. "That's absurd."
"Absurd works," Mira said flatly. "Half the guild halls thrive on absurdity."
Shannon entered just then, his voice carrying a quiet edge. "What else are they saying?"
