Page 12

Nessa eats another bite. Her gaze moves toward the closed ledger.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“You reorganized spices for several minutes rather than look at me.”

“I take pride in my display.”

“You hate those jars.”

“I hate that my father bought them. The merchant promised dark elf households would come down from the keep to purchase them.”

“No dark elf household comes to Lowtown for spices.”

“I explained that. Father believed the merchant.”

Her family’s stall once sold only grain, dried vegetables, and inexpensive seasonings. Goods humans could use and occasionally afford. The imported jars occupy valuable space and represent money tied up in luxuries while sacks of barley dwindle beneath the counter.

I finish my pastry.

“Show me the ledger.”

Nessa brushes crumbs from her fingers. “You can’t fix this.”

“I didn’t say I could.”

“You’ll try.”

“That depends on how badly your father was cheated.”

Her restless hands gather the escaped strands of hair and attempt to force them behind one ear. They slip free again.

I wait.

Nessa exhales through her nose, then opens the ledger.

Numbers cover both pages in her father’s uneven hand. Purchases, sales, loan payments, and interest charges form narrow columns. Several entries are marked with K’sheng trade symbols. I recognize enough merchant notation to understand what the figures mean.

I also understand why Nessa has not slept.

“How much did he borrow?” I ask.

“Forty dalers.”

“The current balance is sixty-three.”

“Sixty-eight. Another charge was added this morning.”

“For what?”

“Late accounting.”

“That isn’t a service.”

“It appears to be an expensive one.”

I turn the page. The original loan purchased the spices and three sacks of southern grain. One sack spoiled before arrival. The K’sheng merchant credited half its value but charged transport fees for the entire shipment. Interest accumulates every ten days.