Ink & Crown

Chapter 74 – The Meeting

The café was already busy by the time they arrived.

It wasn’t crowded in a chaotic way, but there was a steady flow of customers moving in and out, with orders being taken, prepared, and delivered with quiet efficiency. Conversations blended into a low, constant hum, and the staff moved with a familiarity that suggested routine rather than pressure.

Taren noticed it immediately.

The organization stood out. Nothing felt rushed, yet nothing was slow.

Varis did not pay much attention to it. His gaze moved briefly across the space before settling ahead.

“This way,” he said, already walking toward the inner seating area.

Taren followed.

Lira acknowledged them with a brief nod and guided them further inside without needing to ask much. It wasn’t formal, but it wasn’t careless either.

They were expected.

They were led to a table set slightly apart from the rest of the café, positioned in a way that allowed for conversation without interruption while still remaining part of the space.

“Please wait here,” the staff member said before stepping away.

Varis took his seat without hesitation.

Taren sat across from him.

A moment passed as the sounds of the café continued around them.

Varis glanced around once more, this time with a more measured look.

“It seems quite busy here, not bad,” he said.

Taren did not respond.

Footsteps approached shortly after.

Taren looked up first.

Lucien Ashborne walked toward them with a calm, unhurried presence. There was nothing exaggerated in his demeanor and no attempt to impress. He simply arrived and took his place at the table.

“Thank you for coming,” Lucien said.

Varis nodded once.

“Of course. We appreciate you taking the time.”

There was a brief pause before another figure joined them.

Dorian Veynar took the remaining seat, his attention already on the two across from him. Taren understood immediately that he was there as representation.

Varis noticed it as well, though his expression did not change.

There was a brief pause as everyone settled.

Lucien spoke first.

“Lucien Ashborne,” he said.

Varis inclined his head slightly.

“Varis,” he replied. “Senior editor handling acquisitions.”

He gestured lightly to the side.

“Taren. Editorial.”

Taren gave a small nod.

“Taren,” he said simply.

Dorian spoke next.

“Dorian,” he said. “I’ll be handling the discussion.”

The roles were clear without further explanation.

Varis nodded once.

“Shall we begin?” he asked.

Lucien gave a slight nod.

Varis leaned forward slightly, his tone settling into something more formal.

“We’ve reviewed your work,” he said. “It’s clear there’s strong potential, both in its current form and in how it may develop going forward.”

The words were measured and practiced.

“We’re interested in bringing it under a larger publishing structure,” he continued. “Expanding its reach, strengthening distribution, and positioning it for long-term growth.”

Dorian did not interrupt, and Lucien did not react.

Varis continued smoothly.

“We’ve prepared a standard contract that new authors usually get to begin with, one that allows us to move quickly while securing the necessary rights to support that growth.”

He activated his wristlink, projecting the contract interface into view.

The terms appeared between them, fully structured and complete.

Taren watched Dorian’s eyes move across it quickly and efficiently, without needing to pause for long on any section.

After a few seconds, Dorian leaned back slightly.

“These terms won’t work,” he said.

Varis remained composed.

“Which part?” he asked.

“All of it,” Dorian replied.

He raised a hand slightly, expanding one section of the projection.

“Rights are bundled,” he said. “Translation, adaptation, and distribution are grouped together without separation.”

He moved to the next section.

“That includes all extended formats as well. Television, film, animation, serialized adaptations, and derivative works are all included under a single clause without distinction.”

His gaze lifted slightly.

“That is not a limitation. That is full acquisition.”

He moved to the next section.

“The duration extends beyond a reasonable scope for an initial agreement.”

Then the final point.

“The revenue share is disproportionately weighted.”

He lowered his hand.

“This is not a balanced contract.”

Varis gave a small smile, leaning back slightly.

“These are the usual standard contract terms,” he said. “Everyone structures it this way.”

When neither Lucien nor Dorian responded, he let out a short, quiet laugh.

“You don’t seriously expect this to expand into all of that, do you?” he said. “Film, television, all those formats… that’s a long way off.”

The silence across the table did not change.

For a brief moment, Varis studied them more closely, something uncertain passing through his thoughts before he dismissed it.

“Even if it does,” he continued, “that’s something to address later. It makes more sense to secure the agreement now and revisit those points when they become relevant.”

Dorian did not respond to that. Instead, he adjusted the projection.

“Digital distribution has already crossed fifteen thousand copies,” he said.

He moved to the next set of figures.

“Physical sales are currently above five thousand and still climbing.”

That was the point where Varis’s expression shifted, if only for a moment.

The number did not match what he had expected and exceeded his expectation.

Even Taren’s earlier estimate had been lower.

The reaction was brief, controlled, but real. Then it was gone.

Varis leaned back slightly, recovering his composure. His gaze moved to the name displayed alongside the data.

Crownspire.

“Look,” he said, his tone steady again, “we’ve been in this industry for a long time.”

He gestured lightly.

“We have scale, distribution networks, established channels, and the experience to take something like this much further.”

His eyes returned to Lucien.

“Whatever Crownspire is, it’s not operating at that level.”

He paused briefly.

“You’ll reach a ceiling with them sooner or later.”

Dorian met his gaze.

“And a contract structure that does not require surrender,” he said.

The exchange remained calm, but the difference between them was clear.

Varis leaned forward slightly.

“If the concern is specific clauses, we can discuss adjustments, but the overall framework remains.”

Dorian shook his head once.

“That framework is the problem.”

The words settled, but this time the silence did not close the conversation immediately.

Taren leaned forward slightly, his tone measured.

“Then let’s be clear about where the gap is,” he said. “If the contract structure doesn’t work, we can at least understand what would.”

His gaze shifted between Lucien and Dorian.

“What are the terms you would consider acceptable?”

Varis glanced at him, the irritation visible for a brief moment before it was pulled back under control.

He had already made his position clear earlier.

This was not meant to turn into an open negotiation.

But the question had been asked.

Dorian answered.

“Rights remain separated,” he said. “Primary publishing rights can be discussed independently, but all adaptation rights remain with the author unless negotiated individually.”

He continued without pause.

“Duration is limited and subject to renewal based on performance, not fixed long-term control.”

Another point followed.

“Revenue share reflects contribution, not assumption. If the work is already performing, that needs to be recognized in the structure.”

He did not elaborate further.

The terms were already clear.

Taren remained still for a moment.

Even with his own inclination toward fair agreements, the difference was more than he had expected.

These were not adjustments.

This was a reversal of position.

His first reaction was surprise, but it didn’t hold for long.

He had read the work and he had seen the numbers.

The confidence behind those terms was not without basis.

Across the table, Varis did not respond immediately.

For a brief moment, he simply looked at them.

Then he leaned back slightly.

“You’re setting conditions,” he said.

The observation was simple, but the shift behind it was not.

“That’s not how this usually works.”

There was no response.

The silence stretched just long enough to make the difference clear.

Varis’s expression tightened.

“We’re offering experience, distribution, and scale,” he said. “You’re not in a position to dictate terms at this stage.”

His tone remained controlled, but the edge beneath it was no longer hidden.

“If every author approached negotiations like this, nothing would move forward.”

Taren spoke before it escalated further.

“It’s a matter of alignment,” he said. “If expectations are this far apart, pushing either side won’t lead to an agreement.”

He glanced briefly at Varis.

“There’s no need to force a conclusion today.”

Varis didn’t respond to that immediately.

The frustration was there now, even if he was keeping it contained.

For him, the terms were clear, the process was predictable, but this was not.

Lucien spoke then, his tone unchanged.

“If those are the terms you’re offering,” he said, “there’s nothing to discuss.”

The statement was calm, but final.

Varis exhaled slowly, his expression tightening slightly this time.

“You’re turning down a golden opportunity at an early stage which most wouldn’t even get even if they want to,” he said. “That’s not something any author would do.”

His tone remained controlled, but there was a trace of impatience beneath it.

“We’re offering scale, reach, and long-term positioning. That’s not easy to come by.”

Taren spoke then, his voice measured.

“What he means is that the contract terms can be revisited,” he said. “If there are specific concerns, adjustments can still be discussed.”

He glanced briefly at Varis before continuing.

“There’s no need to settle this immediately.”

Varis did not respond to that directly, but his expression did not soften.

Across the table, Lucien and Dorian remained unchanged.

There was no reaction to the shift in tone, no engagement with the attempt to redirect it.

The conversation had already ended for them.

Varis seemed to realize that a moment later.

He straightened slightly.

“Then we’ll revisit this at a later stage,” he said.

“Perhaps,” Dorian replied.

Lucien did not add anything further.

Varis deactivated the projection and stood.

“Thank you for your time.”

Lucien nodded once.

“Thank you for coming.”

Taren stood as well.

Varis stepped away without looking back, his pace steady as he moved toward the exit.

Taren followed a few steps behind, then slowed.

After a moment, he stopped.

“I’ll catch up in a moment. You go on,” he said.

Varis did not turn.

“Don’t take long,” he replied, continuing toward the door.

Taren remained where he was until the distance between them was enough.

Then he turned back.

Lucien and Dorian were still seated, the table unchanged, the conversation already settled from their side.

Taren stepped closer, stopping just short of the table.

“I wanted to say something before I leave,” he said.

Neither of them interrupted.

“The way that was handled…” he continued, choosing his words carefully, “was not meant to disregard your position.”

He paused briefly.

“Those terms are the default standard for the company for new authors, but that doesn’t mean they fit every situation.”

His gaze lowered slightly, then returned to them.

“I understand why you rejected those terms.”

There was no defensiveness in his tone, only acknowledgment.

“And I apologize if the approach came across as… inflexible,” he added.

The word was deliberate.

He did not shift responsibility entirely, but he did not deny it either.

“It shouldn’t have been presented that way without room for discussion.”

A brief silence followed.

Dorian was the one who responded.

“You weren’t the one presenting it,” he said.

Taren gave a small nod.

“I was still part of it,” he replied.

That was enough for him.

Lucien looked at him then, his expression unchanged but attentive.

“You understood the situation far better than him,” he said.

Taren held his gaze for a moment, then inclined his head slightly.

“I try to always,” he said.

He didn’t stay longer than that.

“Thank you for your time,” he added.

Then he turned and walked toward the exit.

Outside, Varis was already waiting, his expression unreadable.

Taren joined him without comment and they left together.

Behind them, the café continued as it always had, unchanged by the brief meeting that had just taken place.

For Taren, however, something had shifted.

He had expected resistance and negotiation from Varis, but what he saw instead was a decision reached without hesitation once the terms were laid out as he had expected, but not the level of inflexibility Varis had shown.”

The terms had been presented, and the answer had followed just as clearly.