Tyrian went straight to his chambers when he got home. He was tired and hadn’t expected to spend the entire day back at Markisean estate. He also hadn’t expected to enjoy his time there. Lady Soliel wasn’t as ill-mannered as he’d originally thought, she was educated and misunderstood. He almost dared to think he liked her. Almost. He did find himself lying alone in bed thinking about the french lace in forest green lining her exposed collar bone. The way she’d danced with him with secretly bare feet. Her cunning smile as her teeth sunk into her bottom lip while she listened to him read aloud. Her angelic voice ringing clear with the words of his favorite philosophers. Her tongue turned visionary into poetry beneath the ache of the low fire. She challenged him, forced him to think harder and chose his words with care. Yet he’d never been able to speak so freely with anyone.No he dare not think much more about Lady Soliel, it wasn’t in his interest.

The morning sun rose with a certain ferocity a few days after dinner at Markisean estate. Maybe it was because he’d spent too long in the stables reading again or maybe it was because he hadn’t been able to shake the empty feeling inside his chest. Too many times did he look up from his book wanting to tell someone about his ideas. He made notes in the margins instead.

Today he would go to work, he decided sitting up in bed. He had taken a long enough break from managing his small business. The Countess preferred he spent his days looking for a bride and attending parties, after all his future would be inherited. Tyrian, however, wanted to be self-made. Inheritance or not he wanted to be sure he could stand on his own. A few years ago he’d started working with imported leather, making custom items by hand. When a woman in the market approached him to commission a piece similar to his satchel he decided to open shop. He had been a one man factory building and crafting. Now he had a team making hand made leather commissions back in France. When he got word of his father’s transfer to the colonies it sparked opportunity to expand here. Today that’s what he would do, work inventory, set up shop, hire apprentices to work the trade. He was still musing the idea of expanding his craft from leather to multiple imported goods. If he did inherit his father’s trades business it would be a perfect merger.

Tyrian quickly dressed himself, grabbed his satchel and headed into town. It was there where he happened across Mrs. Baker again.

“Lord Boudreaux, how is the Countess.”

“She’s well, good morrow to you Mrs. Baker.”

“Good morrow, what brings you into town?”

“Business. I am looking for a place to set up a custom leather shop.”

“Wow how fancy, I don’t believe we have a shop for commissioned leather works in town. Mr.Kingston across the way is a blacksmith and I bet he would be able to help you.”

“Thank you kindly. Mrs. Baker, also could you tell me which flowers are most often ordered by the Makisean estate? I wish to send a thank you for hosting my family to dinner.”

“The Duchess prefers lilacs but the young miss could swim in a pool of baby’s breath.” Tyrian smiled. The girl was never dull.

“Then a bouquet of each.” He said, handing her a handful of coins. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you Lord Boudreaux, send your mother my best.”

“Will do.” He said before making his way to the Blacksmith. Mr.Kingston was a silent sturdy man. He was in the back of his shop hammering away when Tyrian entered. “Hello?” The sound stopped.

“I’m closed for the day.” A voice called back.

“My name is Lord Tyrian Boudreaux. I was hoping to find a Mr.Kingston.” There was a huff and footsteps closed in on Tyrian until the stocky man stood only a few feet away.

“I said I’m closed, backed up on commissions for over a week.”

“I see, well, I’m actually here to see if I might rent a room in your shop.” Tyrian took inventory of the place. It was an open wooden establishment that turned concrete the further in you went. The entire storefront was barren.

“What for?” Mr.Kingston said. Tyrian reached into his satchel to pull out a report.

“This is a detailed layout of a business I run back in France. I’m hoping to expand out here in the colonies. We specialize in custom leatherworks, but we do a variety of other things including obtaining rare imported items for buyers. Our staff is well versed on the care of these items so they won’t be ruined when crafting, resizing, or customizing. It’s all in the interest of protecting its original value. Of course I’d like to make the finer objects of Europe more accessible to the common people.” Mr.Kingston flipped through the papers.” I will need a place to set up shop and I am looking into hiring local workers as staff. Anyone willing to learn the trade and do it correctly. I will spend a good deal of time doing most of the work myself. Perhaps we can even partner in some areas, if you were to need, say custom imported metals or a nice leather holster to pair with an item.” He handed the papers back to Tyrian and walked backward towards where he was working. “I do believe a partnership like this could benefit the both of us.”

“Dost thou always talk so much?” Tyrian furrowed his brows

“Pardon?”

“Dost thou always talk so much?” Mr.Kingston repeated.

“No, I did think you’d want to know more about who was setting up shop in your establishment.”

“If you talk less and stay straight forward the space is yours for 2500 pounds a year.”

“A year? You’d have me invest a year's worth at once?”

“Take it or leave.” Tyrian did the math, there was no security in this new town. No way to know that a year from now he’d have customers. Still the area was a good location and at the very least it was space to craft and export.

“I’ll take it.” Mr.Kingston looked up at him and back to his work.

“The rent’s due two week from now, if you go down to the docks there's always boys looking for work. Don’t make trouble.” He eyed him hard again. “You make that bag?” Tyrian shook his head yes. “You can get that kind of leather again?”

“I have it already.”

“I need a commission. You make it for me real well and we’ll talk about a partnership, deal?” Mr.Kingston stuck out his hand. Tyrian took it firmly.

“Deal.”

Tyrian spent the next month pouring himself into his work. He’d ordered new shipments to arrive, designed new commissions, and spent every awake moment teaching a local boy, Edgar, from the docks about leatherworks. He was finally starting to get the hang of it. Edgar had managed to absorb the information rather quickly but he was still slow to work. Tyrian was sure he’d build the muscle memory in time. Exhausted Tyrian decided to spend a day, alone, mostly in his room asleep.

It was late afternoon when Bigsley finally came to drag him out of bed. He'd lied there for most of the day undisturbed and he had begun to wonder when an intervention would arrive. The door received a single tap and Bigsley entered without waiting for a response.

“This arrived for you this morning Lord Boudreaux. I thought you might want to receive it eventually.” Bigsley looked at him pointedly before leaving and closing the door behind him. Tyrian looked at the wrapped package on his bed curiously. He undid the paper to find a book bound beautifully in leather. He opened it to find the musings of Socrates had been written and translated into his own french tongue. He smiled. There was a note.

Lord Boudreaux,

I assume you won’t find the language much trouble. I came across it in our library and thought it would be better cared for in your home than mine.

~Soul

P.s. thank you for the flowers.

He ran his fingers over the elegant handwritten note. Soul...Soliel. He smiled when he opened the book, there were notes in the margins.