Breakfast was eggs, bread with oil, and a plate of sliced fruit.
Katarina waited until Seris was on her second cup of tea. Timing mattered. First cup was autopilot. Second cup was when Seris actually started thinking.
"Mama, didn’t the Parenna family used to sell wine independently?"
Seris looked up from the trade circular she’d been skimming.
"They did, yes. Years ago."
"How come they only use one distributor now?"
Easy. It was the kind of question a curious kid would ask. The kind that had a very simple, very ugly answer if you followed it far enough, but on the surface was just a child piecing together things she’d overheard.
Brynn had come through. She’d visited the Parenna estate three days ago under the pretense of buying wine, because Brynn could walk into anyone’s home and leave as a friend, and she’d come back with exactly what Katarina needed. The Parenna matriarch was miserable. Their costs had gone up thirty percent since their second year under Cabrian’s contract. They couldn’t leave. They couldn’t source independently.
They were bleeding.
Katarina had taken that information, wrapped it in a nine-year-old’s curiosity, and placed it on the breakfast table like a grenade with a daisy painted on it.
Seris set down her tea.
"I don’t know, piccola. I imagine they found a deal that worked for them."
"But Brynn said old lady Parenna looked sad when she talked about it. And Vessa’s mom says nobody sees the Duccetti at the harbor market anymore."
Seris didn’t answer right away. Her purple eyes drifted to the window.
"Eat your eggs, Katarina."
[Come ooon. You’re smart enough. Follow the thread.]
Katarina ate her eggs and didn’t push further.
That night, Seris was in her study until past midnight.
Katarina knew this because she woke up at one in the morning to use the bathroom and saw the light under the study door. She pressed her ear to the wood and heard pages turning, fast and purposeful, the sound of someone looking for a specific answer to a specific question.
She went back to bed.
[YEEEES! She’s checking. She’s actually checking!]
The next morning, Seris was already at the breakfast table when Katarina came down, no tea, no trade circular, just her hands folded on the table and a stillness to her that Katarina had never seen before from her.
Brynn wore her moods on her face. When Brynn got mad, the air got heavier and her voice dropped an octave. Seris was the opposite. The angrier she got, the quieter she became. But this wasn’t anger. This was the look of a woman who’d nearly walked into a trap and was now retracing every step that had led her to the edge.
"Good morning, mama."
"Good morning, piccola."
Seris smiled at her. It was a real smile, but her eyes were sharper than yesterday.
Cabrian arrived at two in the afternoon, because Seris had sent a messenger that morning inviting him to finalize the contract.
Katarina wasn’t invited to the meeting. She positioned herself in the hallway outside the study instead, close enough to hear through the door that Seris had left slightly ajar. Seris always left the study door ajar when she was entertaining guests. It was a ventilation habit. Today it was a gift.
There was the sound of the heavy glass bottle from the top shelf, the one Seris only used for occasions that mattered. She’d brought out the good wine.
"Signore Cabrian, thank you for coming back. I know we’ve taken more time than you expected."
"Not at all, Signora. Good decisions deserve careful consideration."
[Smooth. He’s good.]
"They do." There was a pause and the sound of wine being poured. "Which is why the Montecardi will not be signing your contract."
Silence. Katarina counted to four before Cabrian spoke.
"I see. May I ask why?"
"You may. The terms aren’t favorable."
"The terms are fifteen percent below market, Signora. I’m not sure how much more favorable—"
"The terms aren’t favorable," Seris repeated, "because they’re designed not to be. Not in year one. In year five, when my house has restructured around your supply chain and dismantled our independent sourcing, and you raise the price to whatever you like because the termination fee makes leaving impossible."
Another silence, longer this time.
"That’s a very... specific interpretation."
"It’s the Parenna interpretation. And the Duccetti interpretation. Both of whom signed the same contract with the same terms and are now paying thirty percent above market with no way out."
Katarina pressed her back against the wall and bit down on a grin.
[Get him! Put him in the dirt!]
When Cabrian spoke again, the charm was still there but the warmth was gone.
"Signora Montecardi, I respect your caution. But let’s be honest about the situation. Your house is not in a position to be selective. Your revenue has been declining for years. Your trade routes are nonexistent. The district assessor gave you a provisional extension, not a clean bill of health. You need this contract more than I need your signature."
Katarina heard Seris set down her glass, gently and precisely.
"Signore Cabrian." Seris’s voice hadn’t changed in volume or speed. If anything, it had gotten softer. "You came to my home. You sat at my table. You drank my wine. And now you’re telling me what I can and cannot afford."
A beat.
"I think you’ve forgotten who you’re speaking to."
She said it the way you’d correct a minor misunderstanding, polite and almost warm. And then the air in the hallway got heavy. The actual air, pressing down on Katarina’s shoulders and chest like the gravity had just changed its mind about how much things should weigh.
Then it passed.
Katarina’s hands were shaking.
[What the hell was that?]
She heard Cabrian’s chair scrape back.
"I appreciate your time, Signora." His voice was even, professional, and faster than before. "If you change your mind, the offer stands."
"It won’t. But thank you for the visit."
She heard footsteps and then the study door opened fully and Cabrian walked out. He saw Katarina in the hallway and his eyes passed over her the way they had the first time, a child, irrelevant. He adjusted his coat and walked toward the front entrance.
Katarina watched him go, then looked into the study.
Seris was sitting at her desk with her wine glass in her hand and her legs crossed. She looked relaxed, like nothing had happened, but her knuckles around the glass stem were white.
"Mama?"
Seris blinked. Then she smiled down at Katarina like she was the only good thing in the room.
"Yes, piccola?"
"What was that about?"
Seris reached down and patted her head.
"Nothing important. The deal’s concluded."
She took a sip of wine and turned back to her desk. Katarina stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her mother’s profile against the afternoon light coming through the window.
[I still don’t know who you really are.]
She turned and walked back down the hallway.