Entering the Miracle Chamber of Comrce, Fenya noticed that the surrounding rchants briefly paused when they saw her and the guards behind her. However, they quickly turned back to their own affairs, paying her little attention.
Fenya stood at the entrance, surveying the room before striding directly to one of the chamber’s attendants. “I want to see your manager,” she said.
The attendant recognized her and cast a glance at the guards behind her before replying apologetically, “I’m sorry, Lady Fenya, but the manager…”
“I want to see your manager,” Fenya repeated before he could refuse, producing the high-level mbership naplate that Lynd had given her.
The attendant froze at the sight of the naplate. Straightening imdiately, he respectfully took it and examined it closely.
Around them, so rchants turned to observe the scene. The newcors were unfamiliar with the naplate, but the veteran mbers of the chamber instantly recognized it as a senior mbership insignia. Their gazes collectively locked onto Fenya, filled with shock and confusion.
In their mory, Fenya had always been an ordinary mber of the Miracle Chamber of Comrce—certainly not a senior mber.
If she had held such a prestigious status, she wouldn’t have needed to take the risk of accepting delivery tasks, wouldn’t have had her ship detained for smuggling contraband, and wouldn’t have beco a casualty in Myr’s political struggles. Instead, she would have been a valued guest at the table of every Magister in Myr.
After all, there were only three rchants in all of Myr who held senior mbership in the Miracle Chamber of Comrce. Even the chamber’s president, rchant Prince Pash, did not possess this status, illustrating just how rare and valuable it was.
Because of this, many suspected that Fenya’s naplate was a forgery, waiting for the attendant to expose her and have her thrown out.
However, to everyone’s disappointnt, the attendant instead asked Fenya to wait, then took the naplate and disappeared into the back storage area. A short while later, the branch supervisor of the Miracle Chamber of Comrce erged, hurrying toward Fenya with the naplate in hand.
“Lady Fenya, please follow ,” the supervisor said, bowing respectfully before returning the naplate to her.
Fenya prepared to follow him toward the back of the warehouse. The guards assigned to monitor her were about to follow as well, but the supervisor blocked their path.
With a serious expression, he stated, “Please inform Lord Magister that Lady Fenya is a VIP of the Miracle Chamber of Comrce. We are willing to vouch for her, and until this matter is fully investigated, she will not leave Myr.”
With that, he led Fenya into the warehouse office.
The overseeing guards hesitated, exchanged glances, then quickly turned to report the situation to their superiors.
anwhile, the rchants in the hall had watched the entire exchange. They now realized that Fenya’s naplate was genuine and, judging from the supervisor’s attitude, understood that her fortunes had changed. The ongoing power struggle between Myr’s rchants and nobles would likely no longer affect her.
...
Inside the warehouse office, the supervisor gestured for Fenya to sit while instructing an attendant to bring so premium iced honey milk.
“Lady Fenya, may I ask what instructions the person who gave you this naplate has for us?” he inquired warmly, personally placing the drink in front of her.
The supervisor’s deferential attitude completely caught Fenya off guard. She wasn’t sure if this level of treatnt was standard for all senior mbers or if she was receiving special consideration.
She took a sip of the iced honey milk to steady herself before responding, “The person who gave the naplate is just outside the city. He is Lord Ornstein, the Lion Knight. He asked to contact you regarding the sale of a batch of Dothraki warhorses and slaves to Sumrhall.”
“Lord Ornstein?” The supervisor hesitated, montarily unable to place the na. Clearly, he was unaware that Lynd had been traveling through Essos under the guise of Ornstein.
However, to him, the na of the naplate’s owner was irrelevant. What mattered was the significance of the naplate itself.
After confirming Lynd’s location outside the city, he promptly dispatched an internal rchant responsible for acquisitions to handle the purchase. As Fenya prepared to leave, believing her task was complete, the supervisor stopped her.
“Lady Fenya, do you wish to register now, or would you prefer to do so later?” he asked, gesturing for her to remain patient.
Fenya blinked in confusion. “Register? Register for what?”
“For senior mbership,” the supervisor clarified. Noting her bewildernt, he explained further, “This naplate is a special authority naplate that grants the holder the right to recomnd a new senior mber. When you present this naplate at any branch or contact office of the Miracle Chamber of Comrce, they are responsible for registering you. Of course, registration doesn’t an you imdiately beco a senior mber—it ans you qualify to beco one. To attain full senior mbership, you must complete three procurent or trade tasks. However, these tasks will only be assigned to you after registration.”
Fenya was stunned. Her eyes widened in disbelief. She had thought she was simply delivering a ssage and facilitating a transaction on behalf of the Lion Knight. Never had she imagined that she would be registering as a senior mber of the Miracle Chamber of Comrce.
It took Fenya a mont to process everything before she finally asked, “Are these naplates common? Why have I never heard of them before?”
“These naplates circulate only within the Chamber of Comrce and among senior mbers. Ordinary mbers are not inford of their existence,” the supervisor patiently explained. “Moreover, they are quite rare. Only high-ranking mbers personally recognized by Lord Lynd are granted the privilege of recomnding new senior mbers. Once you register, the naplate will be reclaid and destroyed—it will never be used again.”
Fenya hesitated before asking, “What if soone steals my naplate and cos to register instead?”
“Then the senior mbership will be theirs,” the supervisor replied sternly. “Right now, you have the naplate because of luck. If soone takes it from you, that is strength. Both luck and strength are fundantal to becoming a senior mber.”
Fenya gripped the naplate tightly, deliberating for a mont before making up her mind. She handed it over to the supervisor and said, “I’ll register now.”
The registration process was simple. Fenya had to fill out a special form made of gold-leaf parchnt. The naplate’s front, back, and edge engravings were imprinted onto the form’s blank spaces. The supervisor of the Myr branch then signed it, stamped it with the branch’s official seal, and sealed it for delivery. The docunt was entrusted to a Chamber of Comrce escort, who, along with thirty Unsullied, would board a rchant’s fast ship and transport it directly to Miracle Harbor.
Once the formalities were completed, the supervisor lted the naplate before Fenya’s eyes. Then, without hesitation, he assigned her first test mission—one that was surprisingly straightforward: escape her current predicant in Myr’s political turmoil.
“For this test, the Miracle Chamber of Comrce will offer you no assistance. You must rely entirely on your own wisdom and strength,” the supervisor emphasized, his expression serious. “Until the task is complete, the Chamber will officially declare your mbership revoked, severing all ties with you. If you decide you cannot complete the task and wish to withdraw, you may inform us, and we will reinstate your previous status—but in doing so, you will forfeit your qualification for senior mbership. I hope you understand.”
Fenya frowned. “Why is my test about escaping my predicant? Shouldn’t it be a procurent task?”
The supervisor chuckled and countered, “Given your current situation, do you really think you could complete a procurent task? Where would you get the money to purchase goods? Even if you had the funds, who would risk offending Myr’s Magister by doing business with you? And even if you managed to acquire goods, how would you leave Myr? Don’t forget, you don’t even have a ship, and no vessel would dare to take you.”
"Moreover, would you abandon your n and leave on your own? With you here, their burden is lighter. Even if they are punished, they’ll only be sentenced to hard labor for a ti. But if you disappear, all responsibility falls on them, and they may very well end up hanging from the Valyrian Road outside the city, executed as bandits.”
Fenya’s expression darkened. She had not expected that not only would the Miracle Chamber of Comrce refuse to assist her, but she would also be stripped of her mbership—at least for the ti being.
Her ability to move freely in Myr’s city was largely due to the connections she and her father had built over the years, but her mbership in the Chamber also played a crucial role.
Without it, she and her subordinates could be imprisoned together. If that happened, she would have no chance to save herself—let alone complete the mission.
She asked in a low voice, “So there’s no way the Chamber can help at all?”
The supervisor shook his head but then offered a suggestion. “The Miracle Chamber of Comrce cannot assist you—but that doesn’t an you can’t seek help elsewhere. For example, the one who gave you the naplate. He wouldn’t have wasted such a rare and valuable naplate if he didn’t want you to beco a senior mber. I believe he would be quite willing to lend you a hand.”
Hearing this, Fenya fell into deep thought. A mont later, she nodded, rose from her seat, and left the office in a hurry.
...
She did not return to her residence. Instead, she made her way toward the outskirts of the city. Whether it was due to her urgency or the fact that she was no longer being watched by guards, she arrived at the temporary camp outside Myr in much less ti than expected.
By now, the internal rchants of the Miracle Chamber of Comrce had already purchased the warhorses and slaves. They were negotiating with the gate guards, preparing to transport the entire lot to the city’s docks, where they would be shipped to Miracle Harbor.
Lynd spotted Fenya approaching in haste. He had a good idea of what had transpired at the Chamber’s branch office. So before she could even speak, he asked directly, “What’s your senior mbership test task?”
Fenya hesitated briefly before relaying the details of her mission.
Lynd nodded as he listened. Although most test missions involved procuring rare goods, the supervisors of each branch and liaison office sotis adjusted the first task based on the candidate’s circumstances.
He analyzed the situation, saying, “Don’t worry. The branch supervisor wouldn’t assign you a task that is outright impossible. If he gave you this test, it ans there is a way out of your situation—one that is achievable given your current circumstances. The question is whether you can recognize the key that will trigger your turning point.”
“I have no idea what to do. I don’t even know where to look for a way out. The Magister’s Council will deliver its ruling in just a few days, and I don’t have ti to figure sothing out—unless I can find a way to delay their decision.” Fenya thought for a mont, glanced at Lynd, then hesitated before speaking again. “I’d like to borrow so money from you. I need funds to smooth things over.”
Lynd pulled out the Chamber of Comrce’s gold vouchers for the sale of warhorses and slaves, placing them on the table. “I can lend you the money,” he said. “But how do you plan to repay ?”
“I can…” Fenya hesitated. She wanted to offer herself, but she knew her own worth. While she had so charm, she wasn’t exceptionally beautiful, and a knight as powerful as the Lion Knight would never be interested in soone like her.
Before she could finish, Lynd suddenly asked, “Are you interested in becoming Myr’s rchant Prince? The sa position currently held by Prince Pash.”
“Huh?” Fenya looked at him in confusion, but a flicker of expectation crossed her eyes, as if she had begun to grasp his aning.
“I can fund your efforts to get through this crisis, and I’ll also help you gain a higher position in Myr in the future,” Lynd said, watching her closely. “But what can you offer in return? And don’t say sothing like ‘I’m yours’—I have no interest in that. I have only one condition: when I need your help, you must assist without hesitation. Do you agree, Lady Fenya—future rchant Prince of Myr?”
“I do.” Though Fenya knew this promise would likely bring her considerable trouble in the future, at this mont, she had no other choice.
“Good.” Lynd nodded, making no demands for an oath or contract. He saw no need for such formalities—if Fenya truly intended to go back on her word, even a signed contract wouldn’t stop her.
Besides, even if she did betray him, it wouldn’t be a major setback. It would simply an losing one useful piece on the board. He still had several others to play in Myr.
Lynd then handed Fenya the gold vouchers from the warhorse and slave sales. He also wrote a short note and a rchant’s na on a piece of parchnt, passing it to her. “Give this to him—he’ll assist you.”
Fenya looked at the na and imdiately showed a look of surprise.
The rchant from Pentos held a status in Myr second only to rchant Prince. Known for his generosity and willingness to help, he had aided countless Myr rchants, nobles, and military officers. Even among the common people, many influential figures maintained close ties with him.
Though he wasn’t officially Myr’s Magister, his influence was nearly equal to that of one—so much so that people often referred to him as the "Shadow Magister."
With soone like that on her side, escaping her current predicant would be far easier.
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