The Chapter of Katarina’s life where she watched Brynn fuck one of the mercs started at six in the morning on a Tuesday.
She’d made the mistake of going looking for her mother to ask about the waypoint construction schedule. The supply closet near the training yard was closed, which was unusual because it was never closed.
And Katarina opened it.
[Oh my god.]
Brynn had Dagna bent over a crate with her trousers around her ankles and was driving her cock into her ass hard enough that the crate was sliding across the stone floor an inch at a time.
The rest of the crew was in there too, cheering, like Brynn was winning a fight rather than fucking Dagna senseless. Dagna’s scarred hands were flat on the wood, her head was down, and she was moaning loud enough that Katarina could have heard it from the courtyard if she’d been paying attention. Brynn’s massive hands gripped Dagna’s hips hard enough to dimple the skin and every thrust came with a wet slap that echoed off the closet walls. Sweat ran down Brynn’s stomach and her cock glistened and Dagna was pushing back into each stroke like she was trying to take more of it.
Some thoughts popped up in Kat’s mind one by one.
1:
[Brynn is so big... Doesn’t it hurt when it’s that big?]
2:
[So that’s how I popped up huh.]
And 3:
[I’m beginning to see what made Seris want to settle down.]
Thus, swallowing, Katarina closed the door very quietly.
She stood in the hallway for about five seconds. Her face was hot and her pulse was going crazy.
[Will I ever be able to unsee that?] A part of her answered with [I don’t think I want to] and she promptly slapped herself.
She took a breath.
[The waypoint schedule can wait.]
She walked away. Her ears were red. She was going to think about what she’d just seen at several inappropriate moments over the next week and there was nothing she could do about it.
The first caravans ran the inland corridor three weeks after Brynn’s crew finished the clearance.
The route was rough. The road surface was uneven, the waypoints were bare-bones shelters with basic supply caches, and the security overhead was higher than any coastal route because the Greypass still had things living in it that occasionally needed to stop living. And Marga had stayed on as route security lead, which meant anything that wandered too close to a caravan stopped wandering permanently.
All in all, it worked.
The Parenna shifted a third of their outbound trade within the first week. Goods that had been crawling overland to the central markets at crippling cost were now moving through the Greypass to the coast in a fraction of the time. The Duccetti followed two weeks later, cautious at first, then faster once they saw the Parenna’s shipping costs drop.
Katarina had structured the tariff agreements the way she’d structured everything in her previous life: precisely. Specifically, she made sure the Montecardi took a percentage of every transaction that passed through the corridor. Not high enough to be exploitative, but also not low enough to be charity.
Just enough to make the route self-sustaining and profitable, with a margin that grew as volume increased.
The human merchants came next. Small operations, two and three wagons at a time, drawn by tariff-free access to inland Valdari goods that had previously been locked behind Stellara’s markups. A textile buyer from Tessavere, a spice trader from the river kingdoms, and a woman who dealt in medicinal herbs and couldn’t believe a Valdari house was letting her through without a surcharge.
Slowly, the trickle became a stream.
The Ledger updated in real time. Katarina watched the Holdings dashboard every evening and for the first time since she’d discovered it in Seris’s study at age three, the numbers did something new.
They trended sharply upward.
Revenue: C+.
Trade Routes: 2 active.
Reputation: C.
Then, a week later:
Revenue: B-.
Trade Routes: 2 active (inland corridor volume exceeding projections).
Reputation: C+.
[This is what compound growth looks like in a fantasy world. Volume drives revenue, revenue funds infrastructure, infrastructure drives volume. And I have the only alternative route in the district.]
She sat at her desk and watched the numbers climb and felt like she was watching a machine she’d built starting to accelerate under its own power.
[We’re not just surviving anymore. We’re growing.]
Soon, the invitation came, exactly as Katarina predicted.
The teahouse was neutral ground, a quiet place on the ridge above Vellasera where merchant houses met when they wanted to talk without being seen talking. Low tables, paper screens, and tea that cost more than Katarina’s entire wardrobe.
Stellara was already seated when they arrived. She looked exactly the same as she had at the estate, composed and unhurried, but her eyes were sharper.
She knew she’d been outmaneuvered and she was trying to figure out how.
Seris sat across from her. Katarina sat next to Seris, in the seat that everyone in the district now understood was hers, even if nobody could explain why a thirteen-year-old had a seat at a trade negotiation.
Tea was poured. Pleasantries were exchanged. Stellara complimented the tea. Seris complimented Stellara’s earrings. Everyone smiled and nobody meant it, which was how these things worked.
Then Stellara looked at Katarina. At Katarina, not at Seris.
"That was a good play," Stellara said. "The inland corridor. I undervalued the Greypass because I assumed the security costs would eat the margins. You solved the security problem with labor you didn’t have to pay market rate for, and then you opened the route to human merchants, which nobody would have done."
She said it with genuine admiration. That was the dangerous part. Katarina knew damn well that people like Stellara Brevaine did not compliment people she didn’t consider threats.
So, she didn’t respond. She remained silent, crossed her arms, and waited for the pitch.
"I’d like to buy the inland route," Stellara said. "Outright. Full acquisition. I’d like to buy it for..."
And the number she gave made Seris’s eyebrows reach for the sky.
Katarina was still shaky on just how much was "a lot" in this world, but judging by Seris’s reaction, she knew the number was significant. It was probably more money than the Montecardi had seen in a decade. Enough to clear their remaining debt, fund the estate repairs, and still have capital left over.
Right, you’d have to be a fool to decline. Anyone in Katarina’s position would-
"No."
There was a pause.
Stellara’s expression didn’t change. Seris’s expression did. Seris looked at Katarina like she’d grown a second head.
"Was the amount too low?" Stellara asked, head tilted.
Katarina shook her head.
"I don’t want money," Katarina said. "I take that money and then what? You own the inland route, you own the coastal infrastructure, you own the district. And I’ve sold my only leverage for a pile of silver marks that you’ll earn back in two years from the monopoly pricing you’ll set once there’s no alternative."
For the first time in the conversation, Stellara reacted. It was subtle, so much so that Seris probably didn’t see it, but Katarina did. Stellara’s right brow twitched.
In their world, that may as well have been a gasp or a scowl.
"That’s a very... pessimistic interpretation of my intent."
"It’s the same interpretation you’d have in my position."
Stellara tilted her head the other way. The faintest flicker of amusement crossed her face.
"What do you want, then?"
"A partnership." Katarina folded her hands on the table, putting on a smile. "The Montecardi inland corridor and Stellara’s coastal network become an integrated system. Two halves of the same trade infrastructure, independently operated. Neither house can squeeze the other. Pricing is set by joint committee. You control the coast. We control the inland corridor. Vellasera’s merchants get access to both without being held hostage by either."
The teahouse was very quiet.
Stellara looked at her for a long time. Not with the warm condescension she’d used at the estate. With a flat, evaluative stare. She was doing math.
"You’re asking me to share my district, that I’ve spent years carefully taking control of, with a house that was nearly bankrupt three years ago?"
Katarina didn’t even blink.
"I’m asking you to share it with the house that built the only alternative to your monopoly in under a month. You can say no. I’ll keep growing anyway. The Parenna and Duccetti are already routing through us. The human merchants are coming faster every week. In six months, my corridor handles enough volume to fund its own expansion."
"And if the route were to get more dangerous?"
[Ah, there’s the threat. That took longer than I expected, honestly.]
Katarina arched a single brow high.
"If the route gets any more dangerous than it already is, I have more than enough firepower to keep it safe."
She didn’t specify whose firepower. She didn’t need to.
Seris, hearing her cue, smiled. It was the smile she’d given Cabrian. The air in the teahouse got heavier for just a moment, and Stellara’s teacup rattled once against its saucer.
Stellara looked at that smile for a long time.
The silence stretched. Tea cooled. Somewhere outside, a bird called.
"Joint committee," Stellara said, more quietly. "I want veto rights on pricing changes above fifteen percent."
"Ten percent. And the veto is mutual."
"Twelve. Final."
"Done."
They looked at each other across the table. Stellara extended her hand. Katarina took it.
The handshake was firm and Stellara’s eyes stayed on Katarina’s face the entire time.
"You’re going to be a problem, little Montecardi," Stellara said.
"I’m going to be a lot of things, Signora Brevaine."
They finished their tea. Stellara left first. Seris and Katarina sat in the quiet teahouse and listened to the carriage pull away.
"Well," Seris said. "That was... Something."
Katarina picked up her cup and took a sip. Her hands were steady. Her heartbeat was not.
She smiled, feeling a satisfaction she hadn’t had in... More than thirteen years. She hadn’t felt like this since she was a young adult in her previous life.
"That," Katarina replied, unable to stop smiling, "was a duel, in the economic world. And I won."
Seris walked over, put her chair next to Kat’s, and put her arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
"I’d rather punch things, to be honest." They both chuckled.
And they sat there together while the tea went cold.
This kind of victory was sweeter than that tea could ever be.