Sunday, December 6, 2009

Investments

“Närcyssa, sweetheart, it’s been ages!”

The death knight startled at the pet name and turned in the direction of the voice. A petite elf with copper hair smiled when Närcyssa’s gaze met hers, and she strode in the direction of the blond.

“…Letitia,” Närcyssa stated, recognizing the family banker.

Letitia nodded once and beamed—was that smile false? “Good, good! I had worried you had forgotten me. After all, you haven’t sent me anything to invest or to sell recently.”

“I’ve nothing of worth to invest at the moment.”

Letitia’s smile faltered, and her gaze had cooled. “Oh, indeed. I understand you’re living with Shifgrethor at the time being, are you not? Income must be slow, forgive my presuming.”

For a brief moment, Närcyssa lost her composure and gave the elf in front of her an incredulous stare. Letitia took advantage of this silence, smiling once more and taking Närcyssa’s hand, patting it.

“Every little bit counts; I'm sure you understand. You’ve recently taken up the art of inscription, correct? Just send me your extra herbs, dear, and I’ll fetch you a good price. Help me to help you, sweetheart.”

She let drop the death knight’s hand and took a step back, half-turning. “I must take my leave; I have auctions to attend. But do take care to remember my two rules: no loans for slackers, and no private enterprising—undercutting is not looked well upon, you know! Al diel shala!

Letitia gave Närcyssa a fleeting smirk, her friendly façade all but gone, and she began to stroll in the direction of the auction house.

Speechless for the first time in months, Närcyssa could only watch as the distance between her and the family banker grew, briefly wondering how her father could have left financial meetings with his limbs and pride still intact.