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T ashi and the mob boss met in the private room of a tea house. They each had a personal assistant, with a bodyguard stationed outside the door.

Hegah wore a sharp suit and the relaxed attitude of a man meeting an equal. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Tashi Yal. I've heard so much about you.”

“Likewise.” Tashi had arrived early and was stationed at one end of the table.

Hegah accepted a cup of Goblin coffee from his assistant and took a sip. “Shall we get right to it? I'm afraid your recent marriage has put me in something of a tight spot. Many of my business interests were tied up with marrying Lily Kan.”

“I see. How awkward for you,” Tashi said politely.

“Yes, although it would have been much worse if Lily had been killed. Kan's temper tantrum would have been very expensive for me. It will be much easier with Lily alive.”

“You have some plan in mind,” Tashi observed, sipping his tea.

“The broken engagement contract comes with heavy penalties.

However, I'm a generous man; I'm willing to make a deal in the interest of buying Lily out.

My understanding is she was never interested in the majority of her uncle's business interests.” He paused significantly.

“I'm willing to let her keep the house, as well as the more...conventionally respectable shops.”

Tashi took his time thinking that over. He had a feeling Lily would be delighted, but there was no sense giving anything away. “An interesting proposal...”

In the end, it all came down to business. It was just as well that Lily wasn't there. She hated her uncle's sleazy affairs, and it would have tainted an otherwise cool discussion.

...

Lily was waiting when he got home. She stood at an easel, sketching her garden ideas with her right hand. You would never know it wasn't her dominant; he could never do half so well with a functional hand.

She put down the pencil as soon as she saw him. “Hello! How did it go?”

He grinned. “You ended up with the house, several shops and a silver mine. He got the rest.”

“And he was satisfied with that?” she asked anxiously. Hegah could cause endless trouble if he wasn't happy.

“Very. The broken engagement incurred penalties, of course, but Hegah was very aware that he had a close call with your near death. No one wanted to screw up negotiations.”

She closed her eyes with relief. “I'm happy that's over with.”

“So now that you're a free woman, what would you like to do? Unfortunately, I think we're going to have to wait for you to heal up a bit before we have a honeymoon.” He smiled teasingly.

“That is unfortunate.” She truly meant it. She dreamed of holding him, and now they had to wait. Her arm was a blazing fire she was trying to ignore. It was probably time to take more medicine, but she hated the way it made her feel drowsy and foggy.

He noticed and moved to the end table to prepare her a dose.

She grimaced when he handed it to her, but didn't argue. It was a necessary evil for the next few days.

“You asked what I would like to do. I think we should have a formal family dinner to celebrate our wedding. I know your mother doesn't approve, but I hope to bring her around.” Lily knew how to be charming.

“I would also like to hire a gardener and a landscaping crew. I have a plan for a summer pavilion, if you approve.” She was determined to make her peaceful refuge a reality.

“I approve,” he said warmly. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with. Anything you create is bound to be beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, and then looked into the distance. This marriage was going to work out just fine. “Speaking of which, I need to visit some old friends. I have a gift for them.”

...

Lily walked into the bar, smiling at the smell of hops and delicious fried food. She hadn't been there in some time, but it was just like she remembered it.

The Bitter Old Crone's had moved their table from upstairs to a dim back room.

The realities of aging were catching up to the indomitable old ladies.

Bad hips, bad knees. The chairs were deep and comfortable, and there were plenty of side tables and drinks for the old ladies who sat and gossiped, talking about battles gone by.

Auntie wore a hot pink, long tunic and baggy shorts, her gnarled green feet in fat leopard print sandals. Her wispy gray hair was wrapped in a turquoise scarf, and dark glasses covered her light sensitive eyes. A pipe and a glass of whiskey sat in easy reach on the end table.

She perked up when she saw Lily. “Lily girl! Long time no see. I hear you're married now. Was he worth the wait?”

Lily smiled warmly. “Definitely.” She gestured to the servant who had carried in her package. “You can set it on the table. Thank you.”

“What's this?” Aunt Rho asked with interest.

“This is a gift, a thank you.” Lily unwrapped the package, revealing a portrait in pen and ink, set in a heavy wooden frame carved with warrior women.

It showed the Bitter Old Crones in all their glory, some seated in their comfortable chairs, whiskey and cigars in hand.

Chunky jewelry gleamed here and there, like the remnants of armor.

Tattoos looked bright on skinny old arms, and the light gleamed off dark glasses and polished wooden canes.

An oak staff was propped in the corner, ready to rain hell on a troublesome head.

It was a picture of power, of age to aspire to. Lily had boldly signed her name and the year in the corner, and her smile was painfully wide while she did it.

“A thank you? For what?” Aunt Rho asked as she soaked in the painting. Her friends crowded around, murmuring with approval.

Lily's eyes were wet. “For the teachers, the tutors...the kitchen maid who liked to chat while she worked. I know you sent them.” Her smile turned rueful. “Even the lady who did the laundry...and random assassinations.”

Aunt Rho chuckled. “You're welcome, child.

You're very welcome.” She looked away and dashed a hand under her nose, sniffing loudly, and changed the subject.

“That's a nice picture you've got there. Where should we hang it?” The ladies buzzed with opinions as they considered the walls.

A spot was found, the picture hung to be admired.

“This calls for a toast!” Aunt Rho held her glass high. “To Lily Yal, the artist! May you live long enough to become a Bitter Old Crone!”

The room exploded with laughter and the clink of glasses.

Lily laughed as loud as anyone, but privately she admitted that it wouldn't be such a bad thing. She looked at the ladies, still sparkling and fierce despite the age and the arthritis.

No, it wouldn't be a bad thing at all.

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T he End