Ink & Crown

Chapter 77 – At the Source

By the time the maglev slowed into the station, Eiran had already gone through the same thoughts more than once.

What he had read didn’t match what he was seeing now from the book’s popularity, and that much was clear.

He stepped off along with the rest of the passengers and followed the flow out of the station, checking the route on his wristlink once more before heading toward the address.

The area was quieter than the main districts, more industrial than commercial. The buildings were functional, spaced out just enough to leave room for movement between them. Nothing about it stood out on its own.

Until he reached his destination, Stone & Quill.

From the outside, it looked like any other mid-sized press. No attempt to stand out, no polished exterior, just a structure built for work rather than display.

But the moment he got closer, that impression changed.

There was movement everywhere without being rushed or disorganized, but steady and constant. Workers moved in and out, some carrying stacks of materials, others checking deliveries or coordinating near the entrance. The sound of machinery carried through the structure in a low, consistent hum.

It didn’t feel like a place that was struggling. If anything, it felt like a place that had been clearly doing quite well.

Eiran slowed slightly as he approached, taking it in before stepping inside. The movement was steady, the machines running without interruption, and the workers moved through their tasks with quiet familiarity.

Someone noticed him after a moment and walked over.

“Yeah?” the man asked. “Need something printed?”

Eiran shook his head lightly.

“Not exactly,” he said. “I wanted to ask… is this where Crownspire Publishing operates?”

The man gave him a strange look for a second, then pointed toward the entrance behind him and Eiran turned to look at where he was pointing.

Above the older Stone & Quill Press sign, a newer panel had been fixed in place.

Crownspire Publishing.

He paused, then let out a small, awkward laugh.

“Right,” he said. “I didn’t notice that. Just wanted to make sure I was in the right place.”

The man shrugged. “You are.”

Eiran looked back at the signage, then asked, “Why are there two signs?”

“Not sure,” the man replied. “It was already like that when I joined.”

Eiran glanced at him. “How long ago was that?”

“About a week.”

“That recent?”

The man nodded. “Still figuring things out myself.”

He gave a small pause, then added,

“If you need anything like printing orders or otherwise, I can take you to the team that handles it.”

Eiran shook his head.

“No, it’s not that.” He hesitated briefly before continuing. “I read somewhere that this place was supposed to be shutting down. But it doesn’t look like that at all.”

Then he stopped himself.

“Actually, you just said you joined recently,” he added. “You probably wouldn’t know much about that.”

The man gave a small nod. “Yeah, not really.”

Before the conversation could stall, another voice came from behind. “He’s not wrong.”

Eiran turned and saw a man approached at a steady pace, his attention already on him.

“There were issues,” he said, stopping near them. “That part is true.”

The employee stepped aside slightly.

Eiran shifted his attention. “I didn’t mean to…” he started to explain fearing the other person might have misunderstood his meaning.

“It’s fine,” the man said. “People talk. And some of it isn’t wrong.”

He glanced briefly around the floor, then back at Eiran. “You’re not here for printing it seems,” he added with a smile.

Eiran shook his head.

“No. I read A Study in Scarlet,” he said. “I liked it and was curious. I just wanted to understand where it came from and more details about the author and book.”

The man gave a small nod not finding it strange at all. “Fair enough.”

He extended his hand slightly. “Gareth Rendon.”

“Eiran.”

Rendon nodded once and continued without much formality.

“It’s not really a secret,” he said. “If you’ve been looking around, you’ve probably seen people discussing it already.”

Eiran nodded. “Yeah. Quite a bit.”

Rendon gave a faint, almost amused breath. “That’s more visibility than we usually get.”

He continued, keeping his tone straightforward.

“We’re a private company. With a small-scale operation, at least until recently. Things like ownership changes or internal deals don’t get public coverage unless there’s a reason for it.”

Eiran listened without interrupting. “So, it’s normal that there’s no recent news?” he asked.

“Normal enough,” Rendon said. “Especially for something like this.”

Rendon paused briefly, then added,

“What I can say is simple. This press is now under Crownspire Publishing.”

Eiran nodded, taking that in. “Fully?” he asked.

Rendon gave a small nod. “Yes.”

Eiran hesitated for a moment, then asked casually,

“Crownspire… who exactly are they?”

Rendon looked at him, slightly amused.

“You came all the way here without knowing that?”

Eiran gave a faint smile.

“I’ve heard the name, but not much beyond that. My uncle works in publishing, so I at least recognize most companies, even the smaller ones. This one didn’t ring a bell.”

Rendon let out a short, quiet laugh.

“That’s because it’s new,” he said. “Very new.”

Eiran nodded slowly.

“That explains it,” he said. “So, who owns it?”

Rendon didn’t pause this time. “Lucien.”

Eiran thought he had misheard, and for a moment, he didn’t respond.

“The author?” he asked, just to be sure.

Rendon gave a slight nod. “The same.”

Eiran fell silent for a second longer than before. That wasn’t what he had expected. Not even close.

He had come here thinking the press and the publishing house were separate pieces connected by business. Not the same person.

“Wait,” he said, trying to place it properly. “So, the author… owns the publishing company… and the press?”

“Now, yes,” Rendon said.

Eiran let out a quiet breath.

“That’s…” he started, then stopped.

There wasn’t a simple way to put it.

After a moment, he asked,

“So, he must already be established then, right? Or comes from a family with resources?”

It sounded like the only explanation that made sense.

Rendon shook his head.

“No.”

Eiran looked at him again.

“No?” he repeated.

Rendon’s expression shifted slightly, more grounded.

“From what I’ve seen and know, it’s the opposite,” he said. “He comes from a fairly modest background. His family runs a small café, nothing large or particularly established, the kind that operates day to day without much margin, and for a long time they were simply managing to stay afloat. It’s only recently that things have started to improve for them.”

Eiran didn’t interrupt.

Rendon continued, his tone still even, but carrying a trace of something else now.

“The book did well,” he said. “Better than expected. Then instead of playing it safe, he pushed further.”

Eiran listened closely.

“He took a loan,” Rendon added. “A large one. Enough to take over a press that was already struggling.”

Eiran frowned slightly. “That’s… risky.”

Rendon let out a faint breath. “Risky is one way to put it.”

There was a brief pause before he continued.

“Most people in that position wouldn’t dare do it and risk it as not everyone can handle that kind of uncertainty.”

Eiran didn’t say anything.

Rendon glanced toward the machines running behind them, then back at him.

“But he did,” he said. “And now you’re standing here.”

Eiran looked around again. Looking at the buzz of activity, it didn’t feel like something built carefully over time.

“That’s…” he said again, quieter this time.

It didn’t sound like a normal story.

If someone had told him this without seeing it himself, he wouldn’t have taken it seriously.

But standing here, it was hard to deny.

Eiran let out a small breath, almost under it.

“That’s something else.”

Rendon gave a faint, knowing look.

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s one way to see it.”

Eiran was quiet for a moment, still taking it in.

Then another thought came to him.

“You sold the press easily then?” he asked.

Rendon didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

The answer was simple.

Eiran glanced around again before looking back at him.

“Just like that?”

Rendon gave a faint shake of his head.

“Not exactly,” he said. “There wasn’t much of a choice.”

His tone remained even, without any attempt to dress it up.

“Things were already heading in one direction,” he continued. “Orders were down, clients weren’t coming back, and the overhead doesn’t wait just because business slows.”

He paused briefly, then added,

“It was either shut it down eventually and deal with whatever was left, or hand it over while there was still something to work with.”

Eiran listened without interrupting.

“So, you chose to sell,” he said.

Rendon nodded once.

“I chose to keep it running,” he corrected.

That was a different perspective he didn’t think about.

Eiran glanced toward the floor again.

The employees working on the press floor with the machines. The steady movement that hadn’t stopped since he walked in.

Rendon followed his gaze for a moment before continuing.

“I’m still here,” he said. “Still doing the same work.”

He let out a quiet breath.

“Just without the part that keeps you up at night.”

Eiran looked back at him. “The financial side?”

“All of it,” Rendon replied. “Debt, uncertainty, wondering how long it’ll last.”

His tone didn’t change, but there was a slight easing in it now.

“That’s not on me anymore.”

There was no regret in his voice. Just clarity about his decision.

“And from the looks of it,” Eiran said, glancing around again, “it worked out.”

Rendon gave a small nod.

He gestured lightly toward the floor.

“You’ve seen it yourself.”

Eiran followed the motion once more.

The press wasn’t just running.

It was moving forward.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I can see that.”

There was no hesitation in it.

“As for the details about the deal,” he continued, “valuations, agreements, all that…those aren’t public as we are not a public company, so we don’t need to make them public for investors, Institutions and the like, so they won’t be made public.”

He gave Eiran a brief look.

“I don’t think that’s what you came here for anyway.”

Eiran shook his head. “No. It’s not.”

Rendon gave him a brief overview of the deal without going into the details and the particular clauses and all that jargon.

Eiran nodded, taking in what Rendon had said.

After a moment, he asked, “Who’s handling the publishing side?”

He glanced briefly around the floor. “I can see the press is running under you, so I assumed the rest would be set up separately.”

Rendon gave a small shake of his head.

“Not yet,” he said.

Eiran looked back at him.

“Not yet?”

“Crownspire is still new,” Rendon replied. “Right now, it’s just this one title. The printing side is active, but the rest… editorial, distribution, all of that hasn’t been built out fully.”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“At this scale, it’s still manageable. I’m covering what’s needed alongside the press.”

Eiran listened without interrupting.

“But that won’t hold for long,” Rendon added. “If things keep moving like this, with the number of orders increasing, we’ll need to expand. We also need to start sourcing new works beyond Lucien’s to be published gradually, then we’ll need proper teams. People who know the work they are supposed to do.”

Eiran nodded, but his attention had already shifted.

The situation was clear enough. A new company, still taking shape, without an established structure in place.

His thoughts moved rapidly, almost on their own.

He thought of his uncle.

Of the experience he carried and the position he should have had by now, and then of where he still was. The contrast was difficult to ignore.

Here, things were just beginning, with space to build and grow.

There, everything felt fixed in place, no matter how much it should have changed.

Eiran didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t something he could bring up casually, especially not here and definitely not like this.

Still, the idea stayed with him, harder to dismiss as his mind keeps whispering to him that this could be a great opportunity for his uncle.