Keffria took a breath. “Apparently Malta had negotiated with the Satrap. The Vestrit family will represent the interests of the Satrapy in Jamaillia. The annual fee for this service is substantial. Ten satrapes a month.” The sum was princely. A humble household could be managed quite well on one.

A heartbeat of silence followed her words. Then Keffria shook her head. “I cannot accept this, however generous. I have been suggested for head of the Bingtown Council. It is hard enough to trade honestly for the Vestrit family and still be evenhanded in all Bingtown concerns. Mother?”

“My hands are full, with the smaller properties. I am not a young woman, Keffria, and the past few years have been hard on me. The money sounds wonderful. But what is the sense of devoting myself to another’s interests, to earn money that must immediately be spent to rectify my neglect of our own properties?”

“Selden is far too young, and much too preoccupied with his own interests. Malta will be a wedded woman almost as soon as she returns. Besides, the dragon has already claimed her services. Wintrow has carved his own niche in the world.” Keffria quickly eliminated her children. She looked at her mother with a question. “Althea?”

“Oh, please,” her mother sighed. “If she cannot do it from the deck of the Paragon, it won’t get done. She has not even found the time away from the ship to be properly married.”

“Trell’s family is the problem.” Keffria defended her sister. “Brashen insisted he would claim her hand in the Concourse, but they disputed his right. Disowned, he is not a Trader anymore. Or so they assert.” Keffria shook her head at their pigheadedness. “It is his father. I think, given time, that his mother could bring him around. Young Cerwin was certainly willing enough to welcome him back to family and fold. There is gossip he is seeing a Tattooed girl, much to his parents’ dismay. Perhaps he would welcome an ally in breaking free from his father’s iron hand. Brashen and Althea had so little time in port; perhaps when they return, he can change his father’s mind. If his pride will let him try again.”

“Enough,” Ronica replied quietly. They would not discuss this before the Companion.

“I am sure they will reach some solution,” Companion Serilla observed. “I must be going, I have so much-“

“What will you do?” Keffria asked her in a low voice.

Serilla did not answer immediately. Then she shrugged. “It will soon be public anyway. All will know what Keffria has been too kind to speak aloud. Cosgo has exiled me here.” She took a breath. “He maintains that I was false to my vows, and perhaps involved with the conspiracy.” She clenched her jaws. Then she said with an effort, “I know Cosgo. Someone must take the blame. I am the scapegoat. He must have one, and all others have negotiated forgiveness.”

“But you were never truly a part of it!” Keffria exclaimed, horrified.

“In politics, appearance matters far more than truth. The Satrap’s authority was challenged and his life threatened. There is substantial evidence that I challenged his authority, for my own ends.” An odd smile passed over her face. “In truth, I defied him. He cannot make me regret it. That is hard for him to stomach. This is his revenge.”

“What will you do now?” Ronica asked.

“I have no real choice. He abandons me with neither funds nor authority. I stay on in Bingtown as a penniless exile.” A spark of the old Serilla shone in her retort.

A smile twisted Ronica’s lips. “All the best Bingtown families began just that way,” she pointed out. “You are an educated woman. Bingtown is on the mend. If you cannot make your own way in such a situation, then you deserve to be penniless.”

“Restart’s niece is turning me out of his house,” Serilla revealed abruptly.

“You should have moved out of there long ago,” Ronica replied acerbically. “You never had the right to live there in the first place.” With an effort, she turned aside from that old battle. It no longer mattered. “Have you found a place to live?”

It was like springing a trap. “I came to you.” She looked from one to the other. “I could help you in many ways.”

Ronica’s eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously. “On what terms?” she demanded.

Serilla’s stiffness fell away from her and Keffria felt she saw the real woman for the first time. The light of challenge shone in her eyes. “An exchange of knowledge and expertise. I came here, gambling that I would hear what you have just said. That you cannot honestly represent Jamaillia’s interests in Bingtown.” She looked from Keffria to Ronica. “I can,” she asserted quietly. “And I can do it honestly. Yet profitably.”