Page 66 of Of Iron and Moonlight

Kora nodded. “For each delivery,” she said, gaining confidence as she went, “I recalculated the expected return—the stone ordered against the profit recorded on resale. Based on prior years, and on what we earn from other suppliers, each batch should yield more than it does. So I checked the inventory logs and found where the records begin to diverge.”

She turned pages as she spoke: purchase ledgers, receiving logs, inventory tallies, cashbooks showing full payment released and diminished returns quietly accepted.

“The discrepancy appears only when Hunrick’s factors oversee the exchange.” She paused, testing the thought once more. “I suspect denser counterweights are being used at the weighing, so the figures appear sound while the recorded mass is false. The loss slips through parcel by parcel and shows itself only in the coinflow.”

Osric entered, curiosity already plain on his face.

Duncan motioned him over without looking up. “She has solved it. Come see.”

Kora flushed, then explained it again. Osric bent over the desk, following her finger with lips pressed thin.

When she finished, he straightened gradually, approval clear on his face. “Moons be cursed,” he said, folding his arms. “It is Hunrick. We should have put the ledgers in your hands your first afternoon here.”

Kora laughed, shyly pleased. “There is one more thing.” She glanced between them. “You have been buying sugar from Donesta. It is serviceable, but a merchant in Geraldine offers the same quality for nearly a third less. The savings would cover the Southbridge school.”

Duncan did not try to stop the laugh that burst from him. He looked at her then—perhaps properly for the first time—and his heart gave a small, startled hitch.

“I suppose we’ll need proof,” he said, collecting himself. “Any thoughts?”

Kora brightened immediately. “We watch them do it. According to the records, the exchange happens on the fourth day of the week. Tonight.”

Osric’s expression warmed further. “An excellent plan.”

“Very well,” Duncan said, nodding. The sum Hunrick had been skimming hardly mattered to him. But the spark in Kora’s eyes, the delight she took in the work, made him want to see it through. “Ossy, speak with Garric. We’ll need plain cloaks and the location.”

Osric gave an acknowledging bow, then hurried off.

Even as Kora beamed, Duncan saw the shadows beneath her eyes, the careful way she held her shoulders. “Get some rest,” he said, gentler now. “You will need it later. We ride to see Rensaya this afternoon, and it is a long road, deeper into the valley.”

Kora rose at once, dipped a quick curtsy, and slipped out, casting one grateful glance over her shoulder before she left.

Duncan remained where he stood after the door closed. He laid a hand on the ledger and turned through it again, scanning pages he had studied until the figures blurred. He had spent weeks on them. Osric and Nelayne had spent months circling the same problem.

He shook his head and let out a breath lighter than any he had drawn in years.

By the time he reached the muster yard for his daily spar with Isander, his thoughts had moved from Kora uncovering the discrepancy, to the breadth of her knowledge of trade, to the steady stream of questions she asked when most people would never have bothered to pose them.

A peculiar, capable woman.

It was only when Isander’s sword came to rest at his throat that Duncan realized he had already crossed the yard and begun the spar without truly registering either.

“I cannot remember the last time it was so easy to best you,” Isander said, lowering the blade but not his scrutiny. “In fact, I cannot remember the last time you looked so… distracted.”

Duncan laughed and let himself fall to the ground, abandoning any pretense of form. He lay back on the packed earth. “I fear, Andy, that the moons, if they are sentient at all, sent me not a wife, but an accountant.” He tipped his head toward him. “What do you make of her?”

Isander dropped down beside him like a true friend, without question or hesitation. “At first, I did not trust her,” he said plainly. “I disliked the idea of a stranger in Emberglade. In our lives.” He paused, then chuckled. “But in time… She is odd, yes. Still, I find that I like her.”

Duncan nodded once. “So do I.”

Thoughts of Kora fell away, however, the moment Duncan stepped into the castle’s main study a few hours later and saw the fear written plainly across his guest’s face.

“Your Grace.”

The Earl of Ardennesse rose and bowed. Nelsyn verGrom was not a man easily shaken. He was tall, bearing the unmistakable verGrom warrior cast and shoulders shaped by discipline.

Today he looked ashen.

Duncan gestured to a chair near his desk. “Tell me what has put that look on your face.”