Page 37 of When the Merchant Met the Orc

“I don’t. But I have a potential supplier in mind. We will meet at the end of the main shipping season.”

Which is next moon. “Good. I think that might be the newitspice to have on hand. The baker in my town is obsessed.”

Osric eyes me and nods. “We’re already benefitting one another.”

He pats my hand, the one that rests on his forearm. His fingers are slim and perfectly fine, and they aren’t lesser because they’re not massive and green. Definitely not. I glance over my shoulder, and Halvard’s face is unreadable. As I slip my hand away from Osric's arm, I swallow and try to figure out what Osric has been saying.

“…and then if you include whatever local fruit or vegetable is currently in harvest, it comes out with a far better profit margin.”

“Makes sense.” At least, what I heard of it did. I need to get my head on straight.

Osric stops and picks up one jar out of a crate holding twenty of the same type of container. The jar’s lid is waxed. Dried threads of bright scarlet saffron color show through the smoky glasswork.

“This is the most valuable,” he says.

“Is it sourced from the Venialands?”

“Exactly.” His eyes sparkle. “You are up to speed with the markets, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

I don’t think I love the way he said that, though. It felt like he was the tutor patting my head for answering his question correctly. I can’t fight a frown, but Osric returns the saffron to its place and walks onward.

We come to a set of shelving about ten feet tall and look up at ceramic containers with well-fitted lids.

“Can you tell me what this might be?” Osric asks like I need to pass his test.

The ceramic boxes aren’t labeled, but of course, I know what’s inside such a box.

“It’s salt,” I say flatly.

Osric clasps his hands and grins. “Yes! Very good.”

“I’ve had a spicery for ten years, Osric.” I don’t think he paid attention to that bit of our first talk.

“Right. Of course. You’re quite good with sales, I imagine.” He glances at my face and then eyes my body. “Because you’re beautiful.”

“I am sure it doesn’t hurt to be not ugly,” I say, feeling incredibly awkward and miffed. “But that’s not why I’ve been successful. I listen to my customers. I travel. I ask questions of the other spice traders, cooks, and pastry bakers when I travel. Research is the key to my ongoing success.”

Nodding, Osric opens a door and leads us into a smaller room. Halvard’s hand brushes my side as we spread out in a dim space, and a shiver runs up my body. I look his way, but he is watching Osric with an impassive expression.

In the room, a desk, two plain wooden chairs, and a large window are the only items of visual interest. It looks a bit like a monk’s cell, to be honest. Efficiency is one thing, but would it kill Osric to toss a rug in here? It’s too neat and lacking any sort of personality. But maybe this is his secondary office. Maybe his home office will tell me more about the man behind the business. But we never make it that far. At the end of the warehouse tour, Osric seems ready to bid us farewell.

“Well, I guess I will see you in Leafshire Cove then.”

“On Nocturne,” Osric says.

“Yes,” I answer. “It’ll be good to introduce you to Nate.”

“I look forward to it. We should write up some details on handling him between us.”

My stomach twists. “Handling?”

He laughs and waves a hand. “Sorry. Poor word choice. I only mean we should have policies in place for varying scenarios. Say, for instance, when you are ill and I need to step up and care forthe lad. That sort of thing. Curfews for when he is old enough to want to gallivant about with his friends at all hours.”

Hmm. I really don’t want his input about Nate. “I’ll think about that, yes. All right, we’ll see you for Nocturne. If you need directions, you can ask anyone. It’s a small place.” I feel ill right now. I don’t want this man making rules for my son. But the good thing about Osric is that I can put that very thing in our contract, and I bet he’ll sign. He doesn’t get worked up about anything, it seems. He is calm and cold. Not cold. He is level-headed. Yes.

We say goodbye, and Halvard and I leave the docks.