"Don't worry, I won't make you wait too long." Alan glanced at Julia, whose expression was grim. "Probably."
Vanessa noticed Alan's guest, but the sofa Julia sat on faced away from the door, leaving her identity a mystery—Vanessa could only tell it was a woman.
"You haven't encountered any trouble here, have you?" Vanessa asked, her concern for Alan evident.
"What trouble could I have? This is a friend of mine. We don't see each other often, so we're just catching up on life and the future." Alan offered a smile that looked remarkably sincere.
Vanessa nodded, reassured. "Alright, I'll go report back. Just remember not to drag it out too long, or that woman might just barge in."
Once Vanessa exited and clicked the door shut, Alan turned back to Julia with a teasing glint in his eyes. "How about it? I'm an honest, reliable sort; I never lie. Have you made your decision, or do I need to hand this key and your family secrets over to Minister Bagnold to satisfy you?"
"This..." Julia was caught in a storm of conflicting emotions, her mind momentarily blank.
Alan snorted at her hesitation, standing up as if to leave.
"Wait!" Julia cried out, startled into action.
"Have you thought it through?"
Julia sighed, the sound heavy with defeat. She looked like a puppet with its strings cut, nodding helplessly. "If I agree, will you help me rescue Torquil?"
"Are you dreaming? Do you think Torquil's situation is something he can just be rescued from?" Alan shook his head.
"Didn't you say you would help me resolve this?" Julia asked, her voice rising with anxiety.
"I said I'd help you resolve it; I didn't say I'd let Torquil go. He's Minister Bagnold's prize now. But..." Alan raised his right hand and drew a finger across his throat. "I can help you get rid of him."
"He's under Moody's constant watch, protected by layer upon layer of security. How could you possibly get to him?" Julia asked, her voice thick with disbelief.
"That's my concern. You don't need to worry about the how." Alan sneered.
"Fine. Let's assume you can eliminate him. You should at least return the key to us, shouldn't you?"
"You can forget about the key."
"What? You won't return the key and you still expect me to agree? Impossible!" Julia snapped, her aristocratic mask slipping entirely.
"Returning it is out of the question," Alan said. "However, once the transaction is complete, I will destroy it in front of you. I'll also keep your secret. That way, the contents of that vault are never leaked."
"Are you joking? Do you have any idea how much effort went into those records? You expect me to just let you destroy them? No!" Julia shouted, her fury finally boiling over.
"Heh. Then it seems we have no deal. Since you're unwilling to accept peace, then welcome the war."
Alan stood and walked toward the door. Julia fell back into a desperate internal struggle. It wasn't until his hand was on the knob, twisting it halfway, that she finally broke.
"Wait!" she called out, the words squeezed through gritted teeth.
"Exactly," Alan said, turning back with a calm smile. "Compared to a family being dismantled, isn't it better for a house to remain whole and safe?"
*Whole and safe? You just offered to murder my brother-in-law in cold blood and you have the nerve to say that to me?* Julia glared at him with pure resentment. But thinking of the vast Travers estate and her young child, she could only surrender.
Alan didn't mind the glare. He returned to his seat and waited for her to speak.
"Alright. Eliminate Torquil, destroy the key, and keep our secret. But you must also promise never to be an enemy of the Travers family in the future." Julia was truly afraid of him now; so young, yet so utterly ruthless.
"I'll agree to let you go this time," Alan said, unmoved. "But if anyone from your family dares to provoke me again, don't say I didn't warn you."
Julia turned the options over in her mind. There were no others. She nodded. "Fine. But after the terms are met, we sign an Unbreakable Vow."
"Agreed. But the Vow requires a third-party witness who can also be trusted to keep a secret."
"I'll handle the witness," Julia said, letting out a long sigh. "Now, name your price."
"Thirty thousand Galleons. If you're short on coin, I'll accept Goblin-wrought silver to bridge the gap. I also want half of the rare materials in your family vault—to include four ounces of refined mithril and a four-foot dragon heartstring. Finally, I want a copy of every book in the Travers library." Alan's opening bid was astronomical.
*Are you joking?* Julia almost laughed in bitter rage. This boy was acting like he was an heir to the estate. Thirty thousand Galleons? If the family had that kind of liquidity, they would have bribed the Minister long ago.
"Impossible. Five thousand Galleons. You can choose three materials from the vault, and I'll give you one ounce of mithril. The heartstring is fine. As for the library, the knowledge there is worth more than the gold. I'll let you copy twenty books, no more." Julia knew she had to fight for every inch.
But she was a noble lady trying to bargain with a boy who had been raised in the grit of the marketplace.
"Twenty-five thousand Galleons. I'll concede on the vault materials; I'll only take a third. As for the library, I'll copy a thousand books. That is a massive concession on my part; don't be ungrateful." Alan applied the pressure again.
The negotiation became a grueling, minute-by-minute battle. Galleons were argued over one by one; materials were measured in fractions of ounces; books were debated title by title. After more than half an hour of intense haggling, they finally reached a consensus.