For Mara, the night was just beginning -she adjusted the shawl around her shoulders, a thin veil of silk for show rather than warmth. With a practiced smile, she strolled past The Rusty Anchor, where a group of Estasean sailors were already in their cups. One of them, a dark-haired man with the embroidered sash of an officer, caught her eye and grinned. She tilted her head, feigning shyness, but already she was cataloging details - the cut of his coat, the rings on his fingers, the accent in his slightly slurred words. The Estaseans brought with them not just coin but stories and secrets carried from distant ports - Mara, like most of the other girls, listened well.

"What brings you to Danfelgor, handsome?" she purred, slipping onto the bench beside him.

"Trade - new routes, new opportunities. The new Dual Monarchy's good for that, I reckon?"

Mara laughed lightly, though she knew better than to discuss politics. Let the nobles and merchants wrangle over trade deals— she was interested in other matters. Estasean sailors spoke to girls like her, and sometimes what they said was valuable and found its way to the right ears. A girl who knew when to whisper to the right dockhand, the right innkeeper, or even a cloaked figure from the Office of Public Safety, could live comfortably.

A few tables over, Mara noticed Liriel, another alley girl, deep in conversation with a merchant rather than a sailor. That was new. The Estaseans weren’t just sending ships - they were also sending men with ledgers and trading schedules. Liriel met Mara’s gaze briefly, then turned back to the merchant, laughing at something he said. New games were being played  in Danfelgard, and not just by the powerful.

The night wore on, and as Mara led the officer away, she knew she’d wake up with a handful of Estasean silver, but perhaps something more valuable than that — a scrap of information about cargo routes, about men moving undercover through the city, about deals made in the shadows. The alley girls had always been part of the comings and goings of dockside life, but now, with the growing reach of Estasea, they were more than just companions in the night. They were the unseen, the unnoticed, the ones who could listen when no one else was listening.

And in Danfelgard, where fortunes shifted like the tide, that could be worth more than silver.

A thick fog rolled down the dockside alleys, swirling around the flickering lanterns outside the taverns which normally cast the alleys into deep shadow. Liriel pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as she leaned against the wooden wall of The Rusty Anchor, watching the ebb and flow of sailors through its doors. The Estasean ships had arrived in greater numbers these past months, their crews flush with coin and eager for companionship. But with them came tension, whispers of secret deals, illicit cargo, and of merchants scheming in dark corners. Liriel, though an alley girl, had also become something more—a set of ears for men who paid in silver and protection.

She was not alone. Many of the girls who worked the alleys had been approached by Spymaster General Gitcni’s agents, who promised money and a degree of safety if they would listen and report the careless talk of foreign sailors. Some accepted willingly, seeing it as an easy way to earn a little more, but some, like Liriel, found themselves trapped, drawn in too deep to turn back.

Tonight, her target was the quartermaster of an Estasean trade vessel known for smuggling. She had caught his eye the night before, and now he was waiting for her in the dim glow of a riverside doorway. He grinned as she approached, swaying slightly from the drink.

“Ah, my lucky charm returns,” he murmured, drawing her close. “I was hoping we could talk again.”

Liriel smiled, feigning coyness. “And what would you like to talk about?”

“Oh, the sea, the ships, the silver waiting in the right hands.” He traced a finger along her jaw, unaware of her sharp mind logging every word. “Danfelgard has changed. Your merchants say they're going to play fair now, but fair play is just for fools. Real wealth moves in the shadows.”

She laughed softly, pretending to be intrigued. “And where do these shadows lead?”

But before he could answer, a sudden voice from the darkness made them both stiffen. “Liriel.”

A man stepped into the lamplight. it was Karst, an Office of Public Safety agent who had been watching. The quartermaster tensed with the shift in the air. Liriel turned to Karst, her heart pounding. She often spoke to Gitcni’s men, but they had never interrupted her work like this.

“We're just talking, that's all.” she said innocently.

Karst turned to the quartermaster. “You should return to your ship, sailor. The Sea Guard is watching for men who don’t know when they've had enough.”

The Estasean scowled but took the warning, slipping away into the night. He didn't want a fight with some jealous boyfriend.

Liriel let out a slow breath, but Karst was not finished. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You were about to warn him, weren’t you?”

Liriel met his gaze - she was furious. “No - of course not! But anyway, he’s just a man who fancies a bit of fun, same as they all do. He’s no threat to Danfelard - I dare say he had useful information but you blew it, good and proper. Didn't you, eh? I do happen to know what I'm doing, thanks all the same. And what's your problem anyway? You jealous or something? He's the quartermaster of that big Estasean clipper that came in two days ago - he probably would have had some interesting things to say, but you blundered in, so now we'll never know. And while we're at it, thanks to you, I've made no money this evening.”

Karst swallowed hard, humiliated by the truth. “I make the decisions, not you. Anyway, what's done is done." He passed her some money. "Go and get yourself a drink and calm down, alright?”

She took a deep breath - she had been in this too long to pretend, even to herself, that she had a choice. Karst had saved her once, when a drunken sailor had turned violent. He had recruited her, giving her relative safety from the dangers of the alleys, but at the cost of belonging to Gitcni’s operation, whether she liked it or not.

“If you won’t do what we tell you to, someone else will,” Karst murmured. “And you know what happens to those who get in the way.”

She was caught between the men who sought her out in the alleys and the spymaster’s men and there was no way out that she could see.

As Karst vanished back into the shadows, Liriel turned toward the river, watching the Estasean ships rocking gently in the moonlight. Somewhere among them, secrets lay waiting to be uncovered. 

Liriel wasn’t the only girl working the alleys who was caught in Gitcni’s web. The others had their own methods and secrets. In the back room of The Black Dog, she sat with three of them, sharing mugs of spiced wine and stories of the night’s work.

Mira, dark-eyed and sharp-tongued, the boldest of them, had been doing this longer than the others - slipping into the beds of traders and officers, coaxing out information with careful words and laughter. “The trick is making them think you don’t care about any of it, that you're just chatting. Get them talking about trade, about cargo. Once they start, they can’t stop. Start talking to them about their families - they'll very soon change the subject and they'll gladly talk about anything else, so you'll easily be able to get them onto anything you like.”

Jella, less experienced and quieter, frowned. “It’s dangerous, I’m scared - I heard Karst had a girl thrown into the river last winter for talking to the wrong people.”

Liriel shivered, gripping her mug tighter. She had heard the same story. None of them knew exactly how far Gitcni’s reach went, only that once he had his hooks in you, there was no getting free.

“The trick,” Mira continued, unfazed, “is to make yourself useful, get me? If you know enough, they can’t afford to get rid of you.”

Sarra, the oldest among them, scoffed. “No-one’s indispensable - they’ll just make sure you don’t become a problem.”

A heavy silence followed her words. The wine no longer tasted sweet.

Liriel glanced toward the door, listening to the hum of the tavern. Sailors and merchants laughed, bargained, argued, oblivious to the unseen war waged in the shadows. She had always believed the alley girls were powerless, but perhaps she now saw things a little differently—knowledge was power, wasn’t it? And they were the ones who gathered it, weren’t they?

Two days later, Liriel was summoned to a private chamber in a different part of the city. It was not the usual meeting place for informants, but she knew better than to question the summons. When she arrived, she found an undistinguished-looking man who told her that he was Karst’s controller in the Office of Public Safety.

"Liriel, please sit down - my name is Daric, and I oversee many of the operations you and Karst have been involved in. Tea?"

She thanked him but declined. He did not strike her as a man who wasted words, nor one to summon someone like her without a very good reason. She tried to remain calm, but she was very nervous by now.

"Karst has told me about everything that happened two nights ago, and he has accepted he was in the wrong," Daric said after a pause. "His outburst was... regrettable."

Liriel was stunned. Karst - admitting fault? That was not what she expected. She met Daric’s gaze. "And what does that mean for me?"

 "An opportunity. You've proven yourself valuable, Liriel. I have been monitoring your information and it’s consistently better than the average, I don’t mind admitting. But Danfelgard is changing and the alleys are only going to get more dangerous, so we need to start thinking about your future."

Her throat tightened. "I don’t know if I have much of  a future."

"No, no - you're wrong." Daric leaned forward. "There is an opportunity for you. The Office needs someone in Estasea - trade routes are shifting, and we need eyes and ears in their merchant circles. You're sharp, you listen, but you also know when to stay silent."

Liriel thought about it. Estasea - a new city and a new life away from the alleys and from Karst. "I’d still be working for you though," she said.

"For us," Daric corrected. "But with a bit more control over the way you operate." She hesitated, then nodded. Daric smiled, as though he had known all along what her answer would be. "Good. We leave in two days. You will need better clothes, but we will provide those.

Liriel stepped off the river boat onto the quayside of Estasea. The docks smelled of fish, salt and spice, and the air was filled with the voices of traders trying to drum up trade, together with sailors and dockers shouting as cargo was offloaded. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, anxiety about her new role pressing down upon her.

She was no longer just another alley girl in Danfelgor. She was an asset of the Office of Public Safety, and Daric had been clear that her work in Estasea would be different and better paid, but potentially more dangerous. As she made her way through the crowded streets, she glanced around, gathering first impressions of the city. Daric had arranged for her to stay at The Herring Gull, an inn frequented by merchants, prosperous tradesmen and minor noblemen. It was far from the dark alleys she had once worked, but there could be danger here in Estasea all the same. The smugglers’ networks, the agents of Estasea’s Special Committee, and the undercurrent of political manoeuvring meant she would have to be alert.

That night, as she sat in the common room of the inn, a familiar voice made her stiffen.

“Well, well. I never thought I’d see you here. You've changed your hair colour, but I'd know you anywhere.”

Liriel turned slowly. Leaning against a wooden pillar was the Estasean quartermaster she had recently met back in Danfelgard. He smiled, a cup of wine in his hand.

“Didn’t expect to see you this far from the alleyways,” he continued. “What brings you to Estasea, my lucky charm?”

Liriel forced a smile. “Change of scenery.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Or change of employer?”

She laughed lightly. “I don’t ask too many questions, and neither should you.”

The quartermaster’s smirk widened. “OK then let’s drink to that.”

As they clinked glasses, Liriel could see that the quartermaster wanted to pick up where they had left off that night on the quayside in Danfelgard. Early the following morning, he joined his ship for a long voyage of trade and discovery.

The Herring Gull had just been a stepping stone and Daric had higher ambitions for Liriel. Within a month, she found herself in a lavish townhouse overlooking the river, owned by a widow named Lady Syrelle, the mistress of a prominent merchant prince. Syrelle presided over an exclusive and very discrete salon called the Sacred Rose where Estasea’s powerful men gathered in the evenings for wine, music, and conversation. It was here that Liriel was placed as a courtesan, a woman of mystery and charm, her wit as alluring as her beauty.

Daric had been clear: “You are not here simply to seduce. You are here to listen.”

And so she did. The harbour captains, ships’ officers, and merchant lords who enjoyed Syrelle’s hospitality spoke freely, their words a blend of politics and ambition, trade and war. Liriel played the role of a curious outsider—foreign, yet not entirely unfamiliar with their world. She learned to ask the right questions and let men believe they were impressing her with their knowledge when, in truth, she was extracting every useful detail.

It was during one of these nights that she found herself seated beside Lord Belvane Torassi, a member of one of the Five Anchor families, oligarchs who had controlled Estasea’s maritime trade for generations. He was a thickset man in his fifties, his rings set with gems, his voice smooth with the confidence of one who was used to getting his way.

“You should see the new ships they’re building down along the coast,” he said, swirling his wine. “Much larger than anything we’ve had before. Big enough for warships, even.”

Liriel raised an eyebrow. “Warships? I thought Estasea prided itself on its neutrality.”

Torassi chuckled. “Neutrality is just a word, my dear. A city like Estasea survives by playing every side. But tell me…” He leaned in, his breath warm with wine. “How is business in Danfelgor these days? I imagine their merchants are struggling to adjust to all the changes.”

Liriel smiled coyly. “Some are adapting. Some are… not.” 

Torassi smirked. “Indeed. The ones who fail to adapt are the ones who become opportunities for others.” He took another sip of wine. “We’ll see how long this ‘Dual Monarchy’ lasts. Nothing lasts forever.”

His words made Liriel nervous, but she hid it well. The Five Anchor families were watching Danfelgor closely, and perhaps even plotting against it. Next morning, when she met Daric in a quiet corner of a half-empty tavern, she told him what she had heard. He listened without interrupting, then leaned back in his chair, fingers twisting the edge of his robe .

“This is what we were worried about,” he murmured. “We’d heard something of this… certainly, people do not build ships like this for nothing. They must be planning something on a very large scale. Keep your eyes open, and keep me informed.”

She had noticed an almost feral orphan of about twelve darting between the dockworkers, quick-fingered and quick-witted, stealing what he needed to survive. The boy called himself Neri, though Liriel doubted that was his real name. She gave him food and silver to watch the construction of the new ships, to listen when the overseers boasted after too much drink,  and to slip in when the guards grew careless. He took to the task, glad of a chance to prove his worth and earn some regular money.

“They’re very big for merchant ships, what they’re building in them docks, they are, and I know what I'm going on with - I've lived in these docks all my life,” he told her one evening, tearing into a meat pasty. “Big ships, ocean-going, reinforced hulls, heavy ships. Not just for trading, I don’t reckon. Got anything else to eat?"

“Merchantmen…or warships,” Liriel murmured.

Neri grinned. “Ah well - who knows?”

Three nights later, as she made her way home the lanterns along the quay flickered and the streets were unusually quiet. She had taken this route a dozen times before but tonight she could feel unseen eyes. She turned a corner and stopped as a man stood in the alleyway, silhouetted against the light of a window. He was neither a sailor nor a common cutthroat - his cloak was too fine, his stance too confident.

“I know what you are doing,” he said.

Liriel’s pulse quickened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

The man took a step forward. “You should leave well enough alone. You’re meddling in things that are beyond you.”

She smiled at him even as her fingers twitched toward the dagger hidden in her sleeve. “Meddling? I merely entertain.”

The man chuckled. “You listen and you talk - that makes you dangerous.”

Before she could react, he flicked his wrist. A blade appeared in his hand, glinting in the dim light. “This is your only warning.”

Then he was gone into the shadows. Liriel stood frozen, breath coming fast. A warning, but not an attempt on her life—yet.

First thing the next morning she sent a message to Daric, and later that day, they met in a private room at the Herring Gull, where the landlord just assumed that Daric was a client of Liriel’s. Daric listened as she told him about Neri’s findings, and the warning in the alleyway.

He nodded slowly. “Somebody’s onto you. So what to do now, eh? That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Daric paused for a long moment. “You have a choice,” he said at last. “You can disappear from Estasea. Or…” He leaned forward. “We turn this against them - if they're confused about what you know, that could give us an advantage .”

Liriel met his gaze. “I’m staying,” she said.

Daric smiled. “Good. Then we can make our next move." If someone wanted Liriel silenced, it meant she had stumbled onto something dangerous. Daric outlined a plan  whereby - far from going into hiding - Liriel would continue her work at the Sacred Rose, and let slip misleading details to certain patrons —  words in the right ears which would breed concern and doubt in their own intelligence reports.

Daric arranged for anonymous notes to be delivered to several members of the Five Anchor familes who weren’t directly involved in the dockyard project but had reason to be concerned. The message was cryptic: "The shadows are watching you. There are whispers of conspiracy and danger so be careful who you trust." 

The notes were designed to disrupt the Five families and make them suspicious of each other. 

Liriel then took a more dangerous step. She sent Neri to see an influential official—one she knew to be greedy and nervous. Under Daric’s instruction, the boy claimed to be a messenger for a powerful figure who knew about the ships being built in the docks. The message was clear - someone in the city had been taking large bribes, and if anything happened to anyone at Lady Syrelle’s salon, the corrupt official’s name would be the next of the unnamed watcher’s targets.
Lastly, Liriel was careful to be seen speaking to prominent foreign merchants and officials in a way that implied she had powerful friends beyond Estasea. Daric arranged for the Danfelgorian consul to take tea with her one afternoon, sending a clear signal.

The strategy worked and within days, she noticed changes. Certain clients suddenly became polite, cautious even. A merchant who had often engaged her in conversations - lengthy, indiscrete conversations - began to watch his words more carefully. More dramatically, the man who had threatened her in the alleyway vanished. Two days later, his corpse was found in the harbour - he had been severely beaten but his purse and jewelry were untouched. It had not been a robbery, that much was clear.

One evening, Daric sent word through an aging bookseller, whose tiny shop served as a front for the Office, that he wanted to meet at a villa in the merchant quarter. When Liriel arrived, she found Daric in deep conversation with another man.

“You have played them well,” the spymaster said approvingly, “Your performance at the salon has been inspired.”

Liriel kept her expression neutral. “But it won’t last - I’m sure we’ve just bought some time.”

Daric nodded. “Yes, indeed, so it’s time for your next move.” He gestured to the man beside him. “This is my superior in the Office. He’s authorized something… new for you.”

The senior man studied her for a moment. “Liriel, you are no longer just an asset - you are an agent now, and that means better protection, more resources and greater risks.” He sat back. “We have uses for someone who can move freely in Estasean society, someone who can reach ears that our usual informants cannot. A role as a dama de compañía to certain influential men is being arranged - I’m sure you have realised that Lady Syrelle is one of our assets - and this would give you access to very high levels of society.”

As part of her new role, they arranged for her to receive an inheritance from a distant, fictitious, relative, giving her a modest but respectable fortune. She would no longer be an escort at Lady Syrelle’s salon, but an independent woman of means, albeit one who had somewhat ambiguous relations with some of the city’s wealthiest merchants. The money she had supposedly inherited was real - paid into one of Estasea’s biggest merchant banks. Daric was certain that someone or other would bribe a bank employee to reveal the balance on Liriel’s account and, just as importantly, where the money had come from. The Office had used the identity of a rich Danfelgorian who had indeed died quite recently.

Now, when Liriel attended parties or hosted private gatherings, she was seen as a foreign lady of wealth and charm — a long way from the desperate girl on the waterfront. Now she was seen as someone who chose her company from the cream of society. Daric was gambling that only a very few members of Estasea’s elite men had known Liriel at the Sacred Rose, and that they would not risk being exposed as clients at a bordello - even a very exclusive one - by betraying what they knew about Liriel.

One night, a senior member of an old-established shipwright company with ties to the Five Anchor families let slip in a drunken moment that the shipyards were all working overtime, but that the ships were not being built for Estasean merchants at all. Estasean citizens were acting as commissioning agents, but the ships were actually being built for a third party, who, from the size of the contracts, seemed to have great ambition and wealth enough to commission large merchant ships

Liriel realised that this could change the balance of trade, and power, between the Dual Monarchy, Estasea, and whoever this third entity turned out to be. As she continued gathering information from loose tongues and letters which Daric intercepted, a clearer picture began to emerge. A real breakthrough came when a commission agent working with the League visited Lady Syrelle's at the invitation of a business associate who was an Office asset. The commission agent, who thought he was going to be meeting his associate, was lavishly entertained, given the very best food and wine, and shown to a luxurious bedroom, where he promptly fell asleep. The wine had been drugged, of course. In the bag that he brought with him for the supposed meeting were several critical documents, including contracts and communications regarding the ships. While he was asleep, Lirien was able to copy the documents, using a process involving wax and special transparent paper.

The documents showed that ships were being commissioned by a body whose codename was the League, who needed ships to continue trading, but also to reclaim islands, ports and natural harbours which had fallen to pirate lords and rival factions. The ships were designed to disrupt Estasea's domination of trade routes, seize merchant convoys, and bring certain trade routes forcibly under their control - part trading vessels and part privateer cutters.

The League had given contracts to Estasea, as a major shipbuilding power with a corruptible elite and some Estaseans were persuaded to cooperate, lured by money and promises of future trading privileges. It didn't occur to them that the League was planning to become a major trade rival to their own city, as they thought the League's sphere of interest lay far to the South. Estasea’s larger shipyards down the coast were constructing the ships without attracting too much attention, unaware that these very ships had the potential to damage Estasea's sea trade, and were indeed designed for that very purpose.

Liriel drafted a report, based upon the documents, warning the Office of Public Safety about the potential economic threat from the League. Daric replied, instructing her to continue gathering intelligence, and to try and uncover the collaborators within Estasea. In order to gain an idea of the size and number of these ships, Liriel enlisted Neri, who could move unnoticed around the harbors, docks and shipyards. Under the pretence of begging and scavenging, Neri was able to observe shipments of wood, metal, and rope for rigging - which had vanished from records - make their way to certain shipyards. 

Liriel was continuing her investigation, assisted by Neri, when a few days later, Daric told her that he had to go back to Danfelgard for a while. He was gone for about a week, but when he returned Liriel had disappeared. At first he thought she might have gone away for a couple of days with a client, but as time passed he became more and more worried about her. Neri had also vanished.

Daric didn't manage to find out what had happened to Liriel - however, three months later Neri was seen in the street market outside the Merchants’ Hall. But a very different Neri - clean and dressed in fine clothes, he was now a pageboy in the retinue of Lord Belvane Torassi. Daric returned to Danflegard immediately and never saw Estasea again. 

A few months after these events, when the ships were all but completed, a huge operation was mounted by elements of the City Guard, the Estasean Special Committee and the Estasean Army and Navy. The dockyards were sealed off and the ships requisitioned for the City. The shipbuilders were eventually compensated, but as the League had paid for the oak, teak and other materials in advance, the City got the ships for the cost of the labour alone. Once launched, they became the pride of Estasea’s fleet.

Shortly after news of the seizure of the ships reached the Office of Public Safety, Daric met his superior officer.

“It is now clear enough, I think, that there were always two plans at work in Estasea. The first was the League’s plan to build the ships and use them to become Estasea’s trading rival - which failed. The second was the Estasean plan to allow the ships to be built, seize them and become an unrivalled sea-going trading power - which succeeded, of course. Since this is the outcome that Danfelgor - as Estasea’s free-trade partner - would have wished, we must, I suppose, regard the whole thing favourably, but the disappearance of an agent like Liriel is very unfortunate. She would never have been able to operate in the field again, but I’m sure we could have used her in other ways. By the way, it seems that someone, probably the Special Committee, has cleaned out the bank account we set up for her, so we'll have to write that off, which won't please Gitcni. I'm sure we'll never find out who did it - the Estasean banks are certainly not going to tell us. But don't worry, I'll talk to Gitcni - you won't be blamed.”

A few months later, Daric applied for, and was granted, his pension.  He moved out into the country, where he bought a vineyard from an old man who could no longer work it. The old winemaker told him that he sold most of his wine to a merchant from Estasea called Pergaali, who paid fair prices without haggling and often visited the region with his friend Feterino, a painter who loved to sketch scenes in the vineyard.

About a year after moving to the country, Daric was sitting in the sun outside his house when he saw a woman entering his vineyard, her face partially concealed under a broad-brimmed straw hat. As she came closer, she looked straight at him and tipped the hat to the back of her head. It was Liriel.

“I can’t tell you everything that has happened since I last saw you - I will, in time - but I had to get out, and quickly. I hope you can just accept that for now.”

“Of course… I was sure you must be dead… we all were. Well, I'm very relieved that we were wrong. Just tell me though - how did you find me?”

“Well, I learned most of my spycraft from you, so I just followed what you taught me. Anyway, none of that matters now - I’m looking for a place where I can be permanently lost. Any ideas?”

“There is a guest cottage on the estate - it’s yours for as long as you want. You can help out round the vineyard if you like. We’ll say you are my niece. How’s that?”

Liriel smiled for the first time. “That would be perfect, thank you. I still have quite a bit of money left from the account in Estasea, so I can contribute to the running of the estate.”

Daric smiled, but said nothing.

And so it was. A month later, after the harvest was in and the grapes pressed, Pergaali came to visit accompanied, as he often was, by the painter Feterino. They sat at a simple wooden table in the sun, with bread, cheese and last year’s wine, talking about the harvest and life in general when Feterino said, “I would love to paint your portrait, young lady, if you would allow me.”

“It would be an honour, but I’m afraid not. I’m sorry - it’s my loss, I’m sure.”

“Oh, but please - don’t be modest. You have a face just made to be painted. Please indulge me.”

Daric intervened. “Nobody would lightly refuse the offer of such a respected artist as yourself, but the young lady has her reasons. I’m afraid you must trust her. As compensation, I’m going to the cellar to find a couple of special bottles that I know you haven’t tasted and will enjoy. One to drink now and one to take home. Is that fair?”

“Hardly”, said Feterino, with a light laugh, “but I can see that I must accept.”

They all had another glass of wine and the conversation continued, until Feterino made a suggestion. “Suppose I was to paint you, not as a portrait, but as a figure in a wider context, and with your face turned away. You wouldn’t be recognisable, and I would never divulge your identity. I’m sorry to be so persistent, but when I get inspiration, I itch to act upon it. Let me paint the picture tomorrow, and if you’re not happy, I shall leave it here with Daric and he can do what he likes with it. Burn it if you want him to. How would that be?”

Liriel thought about it, and after another glass of wine, she agreed. Next day Feterino brought his paints, canvas and easel and got to work, painting quickly. By evening the painting was done. Over wine and a simple meal, they all agreed that it was just what Feterino had promised it would be. In time it became regarded as a worthy part of his canon, and, true to his word, he never told anyone who the subject of the painting was. 

In time, Daric grew older and spent his days sitting in the shade with a glass of wine. Late one afternoon, Liriel went into the garden to check on him, but he had gently passed away in his sleep. She was sad that he had died, but got on with things and arranged the funeral, which Feterino and Pergaali attended. After all the other mourners had left, Pergaali handed Liriel a sealed document, saying that Daric had entrusted it to him several years before. Liriel opened it to find that it was a properly signed and witnessed will, leaving the estate to her.

“I knew he would do that,” Feterino said, smiling, “I just knew he would. I'm going to paint him, just as I remember him, and I want you to hang it here in this room where we shared so many happy days.”

A bottle of wine later, Pergaali said, “It is my very sincere wish that the business relationship between my firm and this estate can continue, and even grow. To be honest, I have had some ideas about how we can expand our joint trading for some time, but Daric was getting old and never wanted to discuss them.”

“Well, let’s start discussing them tomorrow morning. Straight after breakfast if you like.”

And so it was. The vineyard continued to prosper and grow, and Liriel was able to enlarge the house and the estate buildings, plant more vines and commission a much larger wine press. She devoted the rest of her days to making wine, happy and sunburnt, and lived to a great age.