Seraphine's smile was thin, sharp. "Bold words from a woman that was selling flowers and ribbons six months ago. Tell me, Slave Egon, or should I say Lord Novos, how long do you think this novelty will last? People tends to get tired of trends. They always return to what is timeless."
Egon met her gaze without flinching. "Timeless is just another word for stagnant. People want new. They want better. And right now, they're choosing us."
Seraphine stepped closer to a display rack, lifted a rose-pink wrap dress between two fingers as though it might stain her gloves.
"Twenty gold introductory price. Generous. Almost desperate." She dropped the fabric. "I give this little experiment three months before half your customers crawl back to Veyle Silks begging for real quality."
Noella laughed softly. "Careful, Lady Veyle. Pride comes before a fall. And your prices just went up twenty percent last season. People remember."
