He gestured toward Harold, who still stood by the door. "Bring us the Red from the shelf there."
Harold nodded and moved toward the closed shelf near the corner.
Jamen folded his hands on the desk, still grinning. "So, gentlemen. I assume you're here to discuss some serious bets? Maybe something with a bit more weight behind it?"
Ethan raised a hand, stopping Harold mid-reach for the wine bottle. "There'll be no need for all of that."
Harold paused, glanced at Jamen, then quietly stepped back and left the office, closing the door behind him.
Jamen's grin faltered slightly, but he kept his tone light. "No drinks? Alright then. Straight to business, I take it? What kind of bets are we talking about here?"
Ethan met his eyes and went straight with why they came here, "We're not here for bets. We came for a grimoire in your possession. It belonged to the Hemilton family, and I want it back. But I know it may bear sentimental value so of course, I'll be buying it from you."
The grin disappeared from Jamen's face as he leaned forward slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about. Don't have anything like that. If you're not here to place bets, then I'll have to ask you to leave."
But then his eyes shifted to Eduardo, and he squinted slightly, studying the butler's face.
"Wait a minute," Jamen said slowly. "I remember you."
Eduardo said nothing in particular except stare with a little surprise on his face.
Jamen snapped his fingers. "Yeah, yeah. You worked for the late Nathan Stark! I saw you at some gala over a decade ago. Fancy event, lot of big names."
His eyes flicked to Ethan, and the pieces clicked into place. "And from the looks of it, you still work for the Starks."
A grin spread across Jamen's face again. "Well then. Let's scratch what I said before." He leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. "I'm a direct man. I don't like wasting time. So let me ask you this, how much are you willing to pay for the grimoire?"
Eduardo then spoke. "Let us see it first."
The Le Gris stood up, walked over to a drawer on the far side of the room, and pulled out a key. After unlocking it, he reached inside and pulled out a dusty, leather-bound book.
"I assume this is what you're looking for," he said, walking back over and dropping it onto the desk with a dull thud.
Right in front of Ethan was exactly what Valerie had described. Black leather cover. Silver Hemilton family crests embossed on all four corners.
Ethan nodded slowly. "What's your price?"
Jamen leaned back against the desk, folding his arms with a smug expression. "If the Starks came for this book specifically, then it must be really worth something to you. So I'd say two hundred thousand gold grits is a fair price."
Eduardo's head turned sharply toward Jamen. "What?"
Ethan's eyes widened slightly at the sheer audacity, but he said nothing. He just stared at Jamen.
Two hundred thousand gold grits was an absurd amount of money. It was the kind of sum that could buy entire estates, fund small private armies, or keep a guild operational for years.
But Jamen knew exactly who was sitting in front of him. The Starks were once said to have just as much net worth as the King of Gritnia himself.
Jamen laughed, clearly enjoying himself. "Yes, that's right. This pile of junk brings the Starks to my door, and you think I wouldn't take advantage of my payday?"
Eduardo's voice dropped into something cold and dangerous. "You know we could just as easily walk out of here unscathed with that book."
Jamen felt the chill run down his spine. That tone and the way Eduardo said it, it didn't feel like a threat without weight to it.
But instead of backing down, Jamen's face contorted into fury. "You would risk falling out with the entire Le Gris family? In fact, my price just went up. Four hundred thousand gold grits."
Eduardo then went completely silent. His face didn't change, but the air around him seemed to grow heavier. His fury had just hit the ceiling.
Ethan noticed immediately and said in a calm tone, "Pardon my friend here. I think two hundred thousand is a fair price."
Eduardo turned toward Ethan with widened eyes. "Master Ethan…"
Ethan glanced back at him and gave a calm nod before turning back to Jamen. "We don't need to be rash. Two hundred thousand is fine."
Jamen looked at Ethan with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "How come you're a lot calmer than the old man?" He chuckled. "But I like you. We'll do two hundred."
Hearing that made Eduardo's jaw tighten, but he said nothing.
Jamen leaned forward. "So how's this going to work? You got that much in a bag?"
Ethan looked toward Eduardo, who asked quietly, "Are you sure, Master Ethan? This man here is being a thief."
Jamen scoffed but didn't rise to the bait.
Ethan nodded, with a little smile on his face. "It's fine, Eduardo."
Eduardo let it go. From within his jacket, he pulled out a folded bill note.
These were promissory notes, the kind that could be cashed at any major bank in the country.
Eduardo handed the note to Ethan, then turned to Jamen. "The least scum like you should do is present us with a pen."
Jamen, still grinning, opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a fountain pen. He slid it across the table.
Ethan took the pen and wrote a few things on the note. Then he said, "Grayfort City Bank. It has my approval and reapproval signature, so they won't call to confirm this transaction first."
He extended the note forward.
Just as Jamen reached for it, Ethan pulled his hand back.
Jamen grunted. "What are you doing?"
Ethan smiled, took the grimoire from the table, and placed the note down in its place.
Jamen grunted again but didn't argue. He picked up the note, unfolded it, took a long look, then folded it back up and slipped it into his pocket.
Ethan and Eduardo stood and turned to leave.
As they walked toward the door, Eduardo gave one last glare.
Jamen shifted uncomfortably and looked away.
——
Now back in the car, just as they both sat down, Eduardo said, "Master Ethan, that may have been too rash back there."
Ethan smiled. "Oh c'mon Eduardo, Did you really think I would let him walk away with all that money?"
Right then, Ethan said, "Come, Albedo."