Chapter 484: Elven Familiarity
Ophelia the Snow Dancer’s mini-arc. 1/4.
****
Ophelia was in a great mood.
Usually, this meant somebody else was about to have a terrible day. But summer was the season of joy, and she wanted nothing more than to share it.
That’s why–
Quack, quack.
Her friendly ducks were even friendlier than normal.
Outfitted with breathable linen scarves and sun hats, they were the picture of summer frivolities.
However, while most people were content to ask Ophelia why a pair of ducks were following her, why they were so cute and why one of them had yellow paint flaking off its beak, some also asked other questions instead.
Ding.
For example … why a beautiful elven maiden like herself was pressing a bell in the least welcoming store in all of Reitzlake.
Yes, even if they used other words instead.
Surrounding her in a neat semi-circle, half a dozen henchmen outfitted entirely in blackened half-plate kept their crossbows raised towards her.
They were the best of the bunch. Ophelia could tell.
There were few mercenary companies worth hiring these days. Most were less than scarecrows who fled at the sound of the first squawk. But the Gallow Knights stood against even the bellow of dragons, for they were those with nothing left to lose.
They didn’t earn any wages. On the contrary, they paid their employer.
Each member had already received their gratuity for death in service, and each day they still lived was another day to pay back their debt.
Most never did.
However, it wasn’t the stoic sense of camaraderie, the well-maintained armour or the disciplined aim of their crossbows which gave them away as excellent henchmen.
Rather, it was because not a single one of them had reacted to her pressing the bell sitting on the shop counter … repeatedly.
Ding.
At least until now.
A bead of sweat ran down a temple. A finger twitched against an iron catch. A lip shook with frustration.
And then–
“Snow Dancer,” snapped a henchman. “Stop pressing the–”
“Shh!” interrupted another. “Don’t talk to her.”
Silence immediately filled the store as the mercenaries fell back into rank … at least until the sound of a bright silver bell washed over them.
Ding.
“... I just don’t understand it.”
“Tod, now’s not the time.”
“The owner obviously isn’t coming. Why does she keep bashing the bell?”
“She’s doing it to annoy us. Don’t acknowledge her. She only feeds off it.”
Ophelia slowly glanced behind her.
She smiled sweetly.
And then–
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
“Gawwwrrr … !!”
With a cry of seething indignation, a henchman tossed aside his crossbow and lunged.
He was immediately tackled by his comrades, his resentment clear as he continued to thrash even while pinned to the floor. The impact sent the many fine works of art, trinkets, and portraits shaking throughout the shop.
As expected, it was a much more effective sound than a bell.
A varnished door behind the counter opened, revealing a well-dressed halfling who’d clearly been there all along. With a shift of his monocle and a twirl of his impressive moustache, he calmly made his way over to greet the only customer who ever used the front door.
Ophelia didn’t know why.
It seemed silly to use the backdoor. Not only did the counter there lack a useful bell, but there wasn’t even a shop sign denoting this place as the finest emporium of antiques, jewellery and everything else stolen to order.
Of course, that usually wasn’t why Ophelia was here.
“Goodness, if it isn’t the Snow Dancer,” said the proprietor, adjusting the tunic which didn’t need adjusting. “I’m quite surprised to see you. Might you have returned to my shop to make amends?”
Ophelia blinked.
She rolled her fingers, indicating for the halfling to continue.
“You stole from me. The last time you were here.”
Ophelia rolled her fingers again.
“An extremely valuable chest, containing lost heirlooms belonging to Empress Halyconia. It included a number of painting tools, a royal wax seal, several pieces of footwear and a hairbrush still with strands of her hair, albeit that last item is the subject of dispute.”
Ophelia thought for a moment.
Then … she rolled her fingers again.
“Snow Dancer. There is only one chest like I described. It was also very prominently placed.”
The halfling pointed to an empty spot. Right there on the counter.
There was also a little scribble of a duck.
Ophelia nodded at once.
“Ah, that one! … I sold it.”
“I see. And were you able to demand an appropriate price for it?”
“Probably not. I didn’t check what’s inside.”
“You didn’t check what was inside the prominently placed ornate chest. What exactly did you advertise when selling it?”
“The chest. I sold it to a fisherman on the docks. He needed a new chest for all his fishing stuff. I think he threw most of the things inside into the lake.”
The halfling nodded, then looked at the hired henchmen only now rising from their scuffle, clearly deciding which would be sent for a swim later.
“Very well. A shame the collection is likely beyond repair, particularly given what I paid for it. But it’s a small business expense for revealing my security arrangements were lacking. To that end, I offer my gratitude for your assistance.”
“No problem. I like being helpful.”
“Indeed. And I imagine you’ve no shortage of those hoping to put your help to use. My congratulations on attaining S-rank. It’s an achievement worthy of your status as a sword saint.”
“Thanks,” said Ophelia, having really not told anyone yet. “I got it by impressing a grandmother.”
“As is often the qualifying criteria for these things. The young might prop up the world, but it is the old who decide how it should spin.”
“I think a lot of them just want to slap it and see where it goes.”
“True as well. Boredom is a very real issue. And nothing draws out youth like unchecked chaos.”
The halfling spread his hands slightly and offered a professional smile.
“... Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting? Have you come to convince me to hire an even more expensive group of guards?”
“Sure. After all, if they were any decent, they would have accused me of stealing this.”
Thwunk.
Drawing at least a gasp and a groan from the surrounding henchmen, Ophelia plonked a diamond onto the wooden counter.
At once, it shone with a lustre so breathtaking that it was a wonder how Duck A’s beak could even have hidden it, for within the precious stone was something akin to waves rolling in the depths of the ocean.
The halfling adjusted his monocle.
Betraying no emotion, he picked up the diamond and carefully studied it. There was no spellwork in the appraisal. Just an eye for wares keen enough that no customer needed to bring their own artificer to do it for them.
Then, he nodded.
“I shall offer 5,000 gold crowns today and another 5,000 tomorrow.”
“Please. I didn’t just leave the forest yesterday. We both know that’s not what it’s worth.”
“What it’s worth is what I can reasonably afford to pay while ensuring my continued survival against Timon Quinsley. There are very few diamonds such as this in Reitzlake. And only one which can be found alongside that expensive sword by your side.”
The halfling gestured at the sword Ophelia had picked up alongside the diamond.
It was indeed an expensive sword.
Shining with both light and darkness, it was a slender weapon forged using techniques derived from those whose knowledge was now lost to time. Although that wasn’t the reason she’d scooped it up while browsing the trap filled vault in the Adventurer’s Guild.
It was because there was a sign saying the word ‘RESERVED’.
“Well, you’re in luck,” said Ophelia brightly. “Because I don’t want crowns for this.”
“Oh? You wish to barter, then?”
“Sure. I want information.”
“Hm. An uncommon arrangement. I’m hardly a barkeeper. But I can pretend to be one so long as you don’t expect a drink. What information is required in exchange for this diamond?”
“It’s about what you just said. There aren’t many diamonds like this around. I want to know where they are.”
“Ah, I see. Trading one diamond for many. Logical. Very well, I can–”
“Plus all the rubies, emeralds, sapphires, amethysts, garnets, black opals and jades.”
The halfling paused halfway to retrieving a book beneath his counter Ophelia had already read.
“Excuse me?”
“I need all of them.”
“What do you mean ‘all’ of them? You desire to know the location of all the notable gemstones?”
“Yup. But not just the notable ones. I need the whole lot.”
The halfling stared.
“You … wish to steal nigh on all the precious gemstones in the kingdom?”
Ophelia nodded.
Repeatedly.
All the while wearing an enthusiastic smile.
After all, Ophelia wasn’t just a beautiful elven maiden. She was a beautiful elven maiden with a goal. And that meant leaving no stone unturned.
Literally so, in this case.
That’s why … instead of offering a single diamond, she’d simply offer everything!
Indeed, Ophelia wasn’t a princess. But she could think like a princess. And a princess demanded choices. By presenting every single gemstone in a bucket to pick from, she would eliminate her chances of being rejected to less than 0.01%.
Yes, even if being punted through the air was surprisingly fun.
“Snow Dancer, I cannot give you a concise list of where every moderately expensive jewel is. You would literally have to rob the houses of every merchant, aristocrat and notable public figure.”
“Got it. I’ll be back soon.”
Ophelia reached forward to pluck her diamond.
The halfling leaned away, a rare note of exasperation on his face.
“Wait. That wasn’t a list.”
“Fine. I can wait.”
“You’ll need to wait a long time. What do you even need so many gemstones for?”
“Hey, I thought you didn’t ask questions so you could claim ignorance when everything explodes.”
“Yes, but there comes a point where due diligence beats discretion. In my experience, such a vast amount of gemstones usually means summoning an angel or a devil, either of which will result in my shop being sent into the abyss. I would like to avoid this. What are the gemstones for?”
“It’s a long story, but basically, there’s this human girl with nice smelling hair. She hit me on the head really hard and now I have to marry her.”
The halfling stared.
He waited as though expecting Ophelia to continue or retract her statement.
When neither happened, he clapped his hands together and smiled.
“Well, if that’s the case, perhaps I can interest you in my range of–”
“Nah, already looked. I need something better.”
“Snow Dancer, there are very few gemstones you can find which are finer than what I can offer. But if you insist, I can perhaps narrow down the exhaustive and time consuming search you’ll otherwise have to yourself through … provided you accept my payment demands.”
“I mean, I was just going to maybe offer getting back what the fisherman threw in the lake.”
“That wouldn’t be payment. That’d be returning what’s mine. No, if you wish for this information, then I’ll be requesting a portion of the proceeds. But in the spirit of romance, I’ll only select from what your … interest has refused.”
Ophelia hummed in thought.
“Done!”
“Excellent. I’ll draw up a list for you–although I’m afraid I cannot offer my usual guarantee of satisfaction. You’ve picked a rather poor time to go hunting for valuables.”
“Oh, did the goblins decide to get payback?”
“Not today. But I imagine the Crown Prince will be hoping they were. The first challenge to his new authority has revealed itself. I advise due caution, lest you find yourself on someone else’s stage.”
Ophelia leaned forwards once again, this time plucking back her diamond.
“Don’t get into trouble with royalty. Easy.”
The halfling raised an eyebrow.
He parted his lips slightly, yet whatever he wished to say, he put it aside to smile instead.
“... You’ll be needing proper rings, I imagine. A tall order. Only a master gemcutter can shape precious stones of the quality you’ll be retrieving.”
“Like yourself?”
“Like myself. It’s how this shop began, after all. But as masterful as my hands are, there are still a few I would consider my peers. None of whom are usually found in this city.”
“I’m hearing a but here.”
“Indeed, and what a fortunate one it is. Why, it just so happens that a visiting jewelcrafter is currently using one of my galleries as an atelier while she awaits somebody.”
The halfling turned towards the open door behind him.
“... Lady Celisse,” he politely called out. “Might I trouble you for a moment?”
Ophelia tilted her head slightly.
That was a predominantly elven name.
She should know. It was one she was very familiar with.
A moment later, she finally realised why the halfling was so unconcerned with her presence.
He’d been expecting her.
Nor was he the only one to do so.
Because there, peeking out of the doorway with a sparkling smile, was the biggest auntie of them all.
“Oh my! There you are, Ophelia. I was wondering when you would appear.”
Her mother.