Not only the man was adamant about giving the Verhens gifts, but also Rena’s words seemed to have hurt his pride, so she gave up. Kamila felt guilty at the idea of exploiting such a good man’s heart, so she only picked one piece of clothing.
It was a close-fitting deep red woolen sweater so soft and warm that it felt like wearing a hug.
The rest of the family followed her lead and did the same. Her regret about not being able to take more was soon replaced by relief when all the shopkeepers did the same, always refusing to let them leave empty-handed.
By the time they were back to the Baron’s guest house, her dimensional amulet was full and Kamila had to borrow some space from Lith’s pocket dimension. Unlike the Verhens, the only storage item she had was the one Lith had gifted her for her birthday which was always half full with her working equipment.
“Good gods! If Jambel had more stores I would need a new apartment just to have a wardrobe big enough for all this stuff.” While looking at the handbags, clothes, and shoes lined up on her bed, Kamila’s voice and eyes brimmed with joy, in stark contrast with her words.
She had even managed to pick lots of souvenirs for Zinya and her children.
“If you are happy then I’m happy as well.” Lith looked at his Archmage robe as if it had betrayed him. He had received a non-imprinted robe after the ceremony of ascension and stored it inside the Skinwalker armor.
Until that moment, all of his uniforms had kept people at bay, whereas the deep blue robe acted as a magnet. Lith didn’t like receiving so much attention, nor had any interest in most of the things he had nearly been forced to take, to the point that he had mostly picked stuff that others wanted to give them as gifts.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Kamila ignored his flat tone and embraced him with so much enthusiasm that it almost resembled a tackle. “Is there anything I can do to return you the favor?”
She buried her face in his chest, emitting a low purring sound of pleasure.
“Maybe. You’re a Royal Constable, right? How much do you know about mining rights?” Lith asked.
“Just everything. Why?” It wasn’t the romantic answer she was hoping for, but she sucked it up and never stopped purring.
“It’s a long story, we’ll discuss it after lunch. Now get ready, or we’ll be late.” One of the things that Lith loved the most about having come clean with both Kamila and his family was that he didn’t have to hide any of his schemes anymore.
He didn’t need to come up with excuses and lies. All he had to do was tell her the truth and ask her for help.
“It’s easy to say when you always wear the same damn thing, no matter the circumstances.” Kamila stood in front of the mirror, trying to put together a classy outfit from the newly acquired clothes.
“It’s me who needs to walk an extra mile just not to look like Elina’s homely sister…” A slow, sweet kiss cut her short and made Kamila forget about the constant stress that comparing herself with the women of Lith’s family burdened her with.
“Do you feel better now or do you need more confidence?” He asked.
“Much better, thanks.” She started humming while picking the tight-fitting red sweater to emphasize her raven black hair, a pair of night-blue cashmere pants to highlight her slender legs, and both outlined her curves.
Just as Kamila had predicted, everyone but Lith had changed their clothes. The lunch was pleasant, delicious, and together with the busy morning made everyone sleepy.
Back in their bedroom, Lith told Kamila all about the real nature of Jambel’s dungeon crisis, Zolgrish’s lab, and the silver mines he hoped to acquire. She listened to the story with bated breath, becoming pale when she heard about the two Balors he had fought.
“Thank the gods you’re alright.” She clung to him as if those events had just happened instead of being in the past. “Helping a Lich was madness. Why didn’t you call for backup?”
“Those monsters were immortal, remember? Also, Zolgrish would have rather helped the traitors than lose decades of hard work. At least they were in his same boat. That way I saved the day, preventing the death of lots of soldiers and an angry Lich from haunting these lands.” Lith said.
“And getting yourself quite the souvenirs.” Kamila furrowed her brows in disapproval.
“The job of a Ranger comes with both hazards and benefits.” He shrugged. “Besides, I reported the existence of the silver mines and the Adamant forge would have either be retrieved by Zolgrish or lost in the cave in.”
“Point taken.” She said while pondering what the Kingdom’s laws required for an ex-member of the military to make use of information acquired during their service.
“The Kingdom considered the mines lost after the mountain collapsed. The fact that they never sent prospectors means that they consider the task uneconomical. There is no Gate in the vicinity, no place where the workers could live on-site, and the mines would be closed mid-fall at best.
“To make matters worse, it would be a huge gamble spending so much money with no certainty the metal veins are worth the trouble. You can apply for mining rights, but make sure to state on your request how you learned about the silver.
“That way, if the Kingdom doesn’t stop you, it will be equivalent to a formal waive on its side. If you don’t, the ruler of the Region might use the omission as a loophole to seize your mines if the business booms.” Kamila said.
“Thanks for the great news, Kami. You’re really sexy when you use legal jargon.” Lith embraced her while burying his nose in her hair, losing himself in its sweet scent.
“Not so great, silly. The Kingdom has endless resources compared to you and decided to give up on the mines. How do you plan on overcoming all the problems I listed?”
“No clue.” He replied. “But at least Nalrond can help me find the best access point to the silver veins and check if they are worth the trouble. I’ll think about the rest when the time comes.”
The days were still short, so Lith used the time while the others napped to leave Jambel and work on his side project. He Warped together with Tista and Nalrond near the city walls, to alert the guards they were leaving.
“Don’t worry, Archmage Verhen. There shouldn’t be trouble this time of the year, but we’ll reinforce security during your absence.” Said the Gate Sergeant, a man in his mid-thirties, about 1.77 meters (5’10”) with blonde hair and blue eyes.
He wore a light metal armor over heavy winter clothes and a bulky left shoulder protector to balance for the lack of his right arm. There was no stump, not even the shoulder was left as if the missing limb had been vertically cut off.
“What happened to your arm?” Tista asked.
“Nothing much. Last year we had a small monster outbreak of our own, but Ranger Verhen was already busy with Maekosh, so we had to deal with it on our own. One of those bastards emitted a black ray that opened a hole in the walls and took my arm.”
