Chapter 12 - The Southern Trader’s Offer
Two weeks after the festival, a lone carriage bearing the crest of the southern merchant guild clattered through the newly restored iron gates of Moonfang.
Celine sat in her solar, reviewing the spring timber yields, when Elder Ren ushered in a tall, middle-aged merchant dressed in fine velvet robes that looked entirely out of place in the rugged northern mountains.
"Lady Celine," the merchant said, bowing deeply and nervously adjusting his feathered cap. "I am Master Alden of the Southern Trade Syndicate. I come on behalf of the lowland council."
Celine did not invite him to sit. She simply rested her hands flat on the wooden desk, her gray eyes cool and unreadable. "You have a long way to travel for a social visit, Master Alden. State your business."
Alden swallowed hard, pulling a heavy leather pouch from his belt and setting it gently on the edge of the desk. It clinked heavily with gold coins. "The southern territories have felt... a shift in the regional balance since the fall of Alpha King Kale. The neighboring packs are restless. We wish to propose a formal trade and non-aggression pact directly with you, anchored by our strongest merchant houses."
Celine looked at the pouch, then up at the merchant. "You didn't care about a pact when Kale was taxing our timber into the ground and letting your mercenaries poach our northern borders."
"Kale was... shortsighted," Alden stammered, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "He thought dominance was measured by how many people he could crush. We recognize that Moonfang under your guidance is an entirely different power."
Celine stood up, walking slowly around the desk until she stood a mere arm's length from the merchant. The air in the room dropped a few degrees, causing Alden to shiver involuntarily.
"Tell your council back in the lowlands three things, Master Alden," Celine said softly, her voice carrying an absolute, unyielding authority. "First, Moonfang does not trade out of fear. Second, our borders are open to honest merchants, but closed to manipulators. And third—" She leaned in slightly. "—take your gold back. We trade in fair exchange, not bribes."
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Alden stared at her for a long moment, realization dawning in his eyes that this woman could not be bought, charmed, or intimidated. He swallowed his pride, bowed lower than before, and scooped up the pouch.
"Your terms are understood, My Luna," Alden whispered. "The treaty will be drafted on your exact conditions."
