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The midday sun spilled through the high arched windows of the villa’s great hall, casting gold on marble and velvet. At the head of the long table, Catherine Alyamatah, the Lady of Coin, lounged like a cat in a patch of sunlight, wine glass cradled in one hand, her gold jewelry and larger diamonds glittering like starlight.

Opposite her, seated with the stiff discomfort of a man used to furs and cold stone halls, was King Tymbr of the North. His broad frame barely fit the polished chair, and his beard—braided with red thread—rested against his breastplate like a banner of defiance. He did not drink. He did not smile. For he knew he was not amongst friends... but alone... in a gilded den of wolves.

To Catherine’s right stood Evaline Sinclair, spine straight, hair chopped short and well kept, professional, with ledger in hand. Like a wall in human form. Stiff as a tin soldier and... probably just as unyielding.

“So let me understand this clearly, darling—you want how much coin?” Catherine asked, her tone laced with amusement. She’s heard of Tymbr. Never met him, and yet here he came… Desperate but too proud to admit it so openly. Eva was sure to pry it out of him, like a jewel thief. t’was only a matter of time. "Or were it... Need?"

“Two million crowns,” Tymbr said without flinching. “Steel, ships, and men. My enemies have already amassed what I can buy ten fold with what I seek. What they lack is courage… something your coin cannot buy.”

“That’s a rather sharp investment,” Catherine replied, swirling her wine. “Do you plan to gift-wrap this war for your rival, or simply hand them your throne outright?” She teased softly, under the guise of a friendly asked question.. Quickly putting the wine glass to her lips to try and foolishly hide her smile.

Tymbr’s jaw flexed. Annoyed she’d ask something so bold and so early on. It was true that she knew how hard she held the upper hand, he just wasn’t expecting a backhanded question from her whilst she offered him food and wine... And withing reaching distance, no less. “My enemies advance by coin, not by glory. Give me this loan, and I’ll keep the fjords.” He tried to defend his position... peacefully. Without nasty words but... his patience was not something he was known for in the far North.

“And if you don’t?” Evaline’s voice sliced clean across the table, drawing the lords eyes begrudgingly. “What precisely do we get from ash?” She asked with a slight tilt of her head, waiting silently to parry the desperate king with harsh reason.

Catherine tsked gently, tapping her nails against the crystal glass. The ring was so beautiful, were it not such an ugly situation to be in for the Northman. “You’ve a way of making debt sound like death, Evaline…”

Evaline placed the ledger gently on the table. “A kingdom at the edge of collapse is death, my Lady. If the fjords fall and Lord Tymbr dies with his debt… We’d better luck getting blood from a stone, rather than asking the Lord who takes his place by blood, to pay back debts that are not his own.”

Catherine squinted softly as she mulled over Eva's words like wine washing over her tongue, trying to put notes together to string a coheerent taste. "Was that... In a story of the old gods? Blood from a stone..? Or something mystical like that..?" She looked over her shoulder up and at Eva, fully ignoring how Tymbr must feel.

Tymbr bristled. unaware these two clucked like damned hens… Wondering when they’ll get their money. Coin was all it came down to in the end. They didn’t even care that he was to lose his land or his people be slain in battle for their home. “I will repay. With interest. Ten percent quarterly.” he had to play their game… when all he saw were his people, wives, children, men… their homes and the living they forged for themselves. These women couldn’t care less. It was a game to them… but not to Tymbr. These were his people’s lives they were betting on. These two, thought they were gods. In a gold villa in their far away lands... untroubled by the world outside their high walls and flowing wine. It was enough to make the man sick.

“Assuming your kingdom survives even one quarter,” Evaline countered. “You’ve a long war ahead of you. Kings like you think this will end swiftly. Weeks? Months? Years.” Evaline finalized her position to the man. "Don't be a fool or truly you will be a kingdom of ash."

Outside the hall, the scene was watched by quieter eyes…

The veteran servant, Rosé leaned against a carved column, smoking slowly, the curl of her hand rolled cigarette’s smoke rising into the salted wind. From this high balcony, she could hear Tymbr’s voice echoing up from the hall, distorted but strong.. and the waves crashing against the cliffs below played a gentle and more subtle note behind her. She watched the trio below through the arched window: the drunk goddess, the elegant guard dog, and the desperate hungry snow king.

Footsteps clicked behind her.

Mable appeared, tattoos from her fingers that climbed up her arm peeking out on her mocha colored skin, through rolled up sleeves to her elbows. With tray in hand, Fresh oysters, bread still steaming, sliced fruit arranged like a painter’s palette.

“Stop,” Rosé said softly. her eyes not moving from the scene that unfolded below.

Mable paused. “Lady Catherine said bring the food now… Ros-“

“She did,” Rosé murmured, not turning. “But look.” gesturing with a slow lift of her chin towards the trio below, her eyes never leaving. Watching. Calculating. “I’ve been with House Alyamatah for many years…”

Mable followed her gaze. Inside, Catherine smiled like a coin flipped in the air, and Evaline stared down the king like gravity itself. Curious.

“That man’s not here for oysters,” Rosé said.

“He’s a king,” Mable shrugged. “las coronas serán coronas. They all act like that.”

“No. They are like that. He doesn’t see her wine or words. He sees her vault. A pile of coin. And Evaline’s the only thing between him and it.”

Mable frowned. “Eva would like hearing that…”

“She’d hate that I’m right,” Rosé replied, flicking ash from her smoke. “Bring him the food. But let him know you see him. Just a little.” a soft smirk would form on her lips. Teaching young Mable a lesson well worth remembering.

Mable adjusted the tray, her tattoos catching the light. “Then I’ll make sure the bread’s stale?” she asked with a small smirk, looking to Rosé for confirmation.

Rosé smirked. “You’re learning fast, Mable. Soon it’ll all be second nature to you.” She took a drag from her cigarette, exhaling the smoke as she heard Mable’s footsteps retreat back to the kitchens to replace the bread.

Back inside, the tension was thick and sweet as syrup.

“We’ll give you a portion,” Catherine said suddenly. “Enough to rattle your enemy’s teeth—but not enough to buy a fleet.” She’d shake her head softly, her fingers tapping on her wine glass, the thick rings taking turns making the thin glass sing.

Evaline finished scribbling and snapped her ledger shut. “With strict repayment clauses… If you default, the mines become ours.” She stated so matter-of-factly.

Tymbr’s nostrils flared, his eyes snapped between the two women… landing carefully on Catherine. Hatred and daggers stabbing through. “You’d steal my land?”

“You’d sign it away,” Evaline replied. giving her head a shake. “We don’t steal. We collect.”

Catherine leaned in, smiling. “Do we have a deal, snow-king? Or shall I pour more wine and watch your pride melt like the snow you left to get here?”

Tymbr’s voice came slowly. “You’ll have my seal by sundown.” His pride seared in the back of his mind, wanting nothing more than to single handedly break these two twig-like women… Skin and bones the lot of them. They were not like the shieldmaidens back home… but, he realized if he did… the suffering and his people’s fate would be sealed.

As the words fell, Mable entered with her tray. Nose raised slightly, and a small smirk ever shaded onto her lips.

She placed it gently before the king, catching his eye. Her expression was unreadable. The oysters glistened like treasure—but the bread was unmistakably hard.

Rosé watched from the balcony above, her rolled cigarette almost burned to the finger that held it…

Below, the Lady of Coin smiled like the sun. Another day, another dealing done… Though Lord Tymbr couldn’t find the strength nor reason to smile or continue pleasantries… He stayed his course, looking down at the bread, oysters and other delectable Mable brought forth. Gently partaking in the food given… A glance to the wine then back to Evaline… trying to ignore his true feelings on the matter. Forced to dance. Forced to play the game. Forced to gamble.

And beside the Patron lady, the shadow that watched all—Evaline Sinclair—prepared the contract that could end a kingdom. What was a man to do?