Ravyn barely managed to eat a few bites of her breakfast before more knots tied her stomach, and her fingers turned cold. Emberlynn rubbed her pointer finger and thumb against a small garnet. A brief glow emanated from the stone, and the doors at the end of the room opened.
“You called, Mistress Emberlynn?” a woman asked.
Emberlynn gestured to the plates. “Yes. We are finished with breakfast.”
The woman offered a curt bow, and as Tristan made to speak, Emberlynn silenced him with an extended finger.
Mother never did fear the men or their power.
Once the plates were cleared from the table and the servant was gone, the tense air returned. Emberlynn coughed into her handkerchief before continuing. “How would you change things regarding the kitten situation?”
Tristan visibly swallowed. “It is my firm belief that if the nyannies were offered a higher wage, then the nyannies, and by extension the children, would become better educated and less inclined to steal.”
“What would that wage look like?’
Damn it. I don’t think he knows the value of a Bell. Ravyn worked her jaw in silence.
“A direct percentile of the guard’s wages. As Melody’s book suggested, the guards make a substantial profit protecting Shulan when compared to other jobs in the city.” Tristan gestured animatedly with his hand, keeping a steady tone. “In my mind, the nyannies train the catgirls who will eventually come to power on the island. Thus, it would make sense that the wages of nyannies would match, if not surpass, the wages of guards in their entirety. Does this sound reasonable to you?”
Ravyn fought back the frown that was coming on. Somehow the boy had managed to avoid displaying ignorance of the Bell’s value while simultaneously presenting a plausible wage for the nyannies.
“The wages I saw,” Tristan continued, “were—and forgive me for my forwardness—unacceptable. Nyannies are essential in caring for and teaching our children, arming them for the harsh realities of the world, understanding the role of the men, ensuring they live full lives when they leave.”
“There are schools of study that take some of that burden away from nyannies, Tristan,” Emberlynn countered.
“You’re correct. However, from what I’ve read, the schools on nearly every island only accept students once they’ve attained the ability to change into their [Combat Mode]s. That’s still a little over a decade of interactions and education with nyannies.”
Emberlynn paused. She studied Tristan, then asked, “Is the rising Defiled threat not on your agenda of concerns?”
Shit.
Tristan furrowed his brow. “I was under the assumption that Cailu kept San Island clear of major Defiled threats.”
“He keeps Shulan maintained, yes. But the Bells that go to our guard also protect smaller towns and cities. Cities like Zhuli. I’m certain you understand that Cailu’s time is quite torn between here and Nyarlothep.”
“I’m aware. Forgive me, Emberlynn, I fail to see how this concerns nyannies.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Our nyannies will lack for work if their kittens are dead.”
Tristan flushed a brilliant red.
“But you’re paying the guard a fortune! All Tristan’s asking is to make it fair!” Destiny said suddenly. As soon as the words left her lips, she placed a hand over her mouth as if she’d spoken out of turn.
You’ve given her the edge. Tristan needs to lead the conversation.
“Would you not request a high sum if you put your life on the line each day for your island, Destiny?” Emberlynn said sharply. “Compared to the nyannies who live in comfort and pleasure with their kittens? Less funding to our protectors means far fewer kittens. And our island is always in need of protection.”
“Pardon me,” Tristan said, raising his hand. Emberlynn stopped and regarded him with a single raised brow. “But could you please explain to me where all of this money is coming from?”
“Taxes, of course. Surely you noted such in Melody’s book,” Emberlynn replied.
Tristan nodded. “Yes, but the amounts were consistently uneven from similar earnings. I couldn’t deduce a steady percentage or stable fee.”
“Ah, yes. Businesses and their owners are welcome to make a suitable donation to San Island. All collected Bells are pooled into a conglomerate account that, in turn, funds our roads, wages, schools, defense, nyannies, and other necessary ventures.”
“Is there a benefit to these donations?” Tristan tapped a finger against the table in thought.
“Of course. They are recorded in Melody’s books, and those who donate are offered a multitude of benefits for their businesses. Premier placement, city sponsorships, priority repairs, and greater loan opportunities.”
So much roach shit. To Ravyn, the system had always seemed like a fancy ribbon on ‘bribery.’ But it was what her mother was best at. Tying filthy truths in pretty paper.
“Loans?” Tristan asked.
“Yes,” Emberlynn said. Ravyn noted the red that crept up Emberlynn’s thin neck; she was losing her patience. “A substantial amount of the Bells received in taxes and donations goes toward loans. Many of the catgirls in Shulan dream of opening their own shop.”
Tristan rubbed his chin, his expression pensive.
Is it starting to make more sense now, Tristan?
“I think I’m beginning to see some of the more glaring issues at hand,” Tristan admitted.
“Could some of the donations, even just a few, go to the nyannies instead?” Lara suggested.
“The guard has grown accustomed to multiple bonuses throughout the years of their service. To take it away could be the death of us all.” Emberlynn sighed.
“What if you offered businesses benefits for larger donations to nyannies? Then put those aside just for them?” Tristan suggested.
“You don’t truly believe that these businesses will add on to their donations, will you?” Emberlynn smirked. “They will give the same amount of Bells and claim it is for a new cause.”
“Could you raise the taxes?” Tristan asked.
Emberlynn’s smirk grew wider, and the garnet poked deeper into her fingers.
Stop, Tristan. You’re passing her the win here.
“Oh. Forget I said that, then,” Tristan quickly added. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaling.
If it’s not one thing, then it’s the other.
Ravyn knew of the issues that plagued San Island—Shulan most of all. Explaining all of its intricate politics and market schemes could be an entire lifetime’s worth of study. Despite being a native, even she wasn’t privy to some of its darkest underbellies.
“Even so, Mother,” Ravyn said, crossing her arms, “the nyannies have to receive a higher wage. We need to resolve that issue somehow.”
Emberlynn maintained her eerie smile. Ravyn loathed to say it, but she was still her mother’s daughter. She was no stranger to this brand of table talk.
“I’d like to clarify what we’ve discussed so far,” Tristan said as if he’d just come out of a reverie. “The island’s financial pool is made up of taxes and donations from the businesses in each city, do I understand that correctly?”
Emberlynn nodded. “Yes. That is correct.”
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“Then that pool is used to pay for anything the city may need.” Tristan maintained a direct stare at the table. Ravyn noticed he did that whenever he repeated things for confirmation. He paused, then looked up at Emberlynn. “So, that pool somehow needs to be adjusted to accommodate more nyannies to help the homeless kittens.”
“Tristan, even if we increased the wages for the current nyannies in Shulan, they have all taken on as many kittens as they can.” The red in Emberlynn’s neck crested her chin. “Do you expect that hiring one or two more nyannies, then wrangling the city’s worth of kittens into an empty building will help the current state of pickpockets?”
“I’m open to suggestions,” Tristan said. “I came from a city that suffered from many similar problems, so I’m no stranger to children wandering the streets. By the time I left…” He shook his head. “My apologies. It’s just that I understand what it’s like to scavenge through trash cans and streets in search of food and shelter. Every day, I hoped someone would offer me their support. I needed someone to take my hand and tell me everything was going to be okay.”
A brief silence swept over the room.
Just what the hell happened to you, Tristan?
“The pool struggles to maintain order and cleanliness as it is,” Emberlynn said, crossing her hands on the table and perching her chin. “Increasing the wages for nyannies means taking wages away from another group. Do you not understand that?”
Tristan paused. “I’m aware. I’m hoping to find another solution.”
“Oh? Like increasing the fees for business owners? Sell them the story that their funds are going toward a better future? Toward the children? Toward the ones who historically pocketed the very funds they so graciously gave?”
“Mother,” Ravyn said sharply, “don’t put words in his mouth.”
“He was the one to suggest raising taxes, Ravyn.” Emberlynn glared at Ravyn.
“He’s willing to find a compromise. Are you?” Ravyn held her stare. Mother or not, she had no right to talk to Tristan like that. He was dealt an unfair hand from the cunt of all cunts. She wasn’t about to let her mother soil his attempts at building a better San Island.
“A compromise? All I see is a boy stepping in to lay ruin to our island,” Emberlynn said, redirecting her gaze to Tristan.
Tristan’s fingers curled as he rocked his jaw side to side. The longer he went without an answer, the more true Emberlynn’s declaration would become.
“If we were to invite nyannies with proper backgrounds from Shi—” Destiny started.
“Then we take potential work away from the natives,” Emberlynn countered. “As a Shi Island maid, I am sure I do not need to remind you of the tense rivalry between our islands.” When Lara opened her mouth, Emberlynn spoke louder. “Ichi Island can barely take care of itself, and Ni Island is little more than a sabbatical retreat. No thanks to any of the men. So where would you suggest we find these nyannies with such impressive backgrounds?”
Ravyn felt her blood boil. “Ni Island’s man is doing everything he can. You would do well to refrain from such statements, Mother. Such venom-laced words are unbecoming of you.”
“You are right, of course. At least not all of the men are useless.”
Don’t. Say. Anything. Refrain.
“Cailu’s a cunt! Squaaawwwk!” Bally recited.
Emberlynn looked absolutely horrified by the bird’s statement. Ravyn did a little victory dance in her head.
“Silence that thing’s repulsive mouth,” Emberlynn snapped.
Ravyn felt her mouth curve into a smile against her will. “Ball Gag?” She made sure to mention his entire name just to horrify her mother further. Emberlynn’s expression said she’d done a great job so far. “Can you please be quiet for the remainder of our—” and she paused to look at Emberlynn, “—delicate discussion?”
Bally nodded enthusiastically.
“Good Ball Gag,” Ravyn praised, tapping him on the beak.
Tristan cleared his throat. “I am of the belief that trust is the most difficult thing to obtain from a person, and I understand the rivalry and your feelings on the other islands. And I understand the events that you believe would follow.”
“Tristan—” Destiny started.
Tristan shook his head and raised a hand. “However, San Island, more than any, is a city founded on trade and wealth. When does a catgirl become a native to San Island? If you will pardon my bluntness, San Island has the fewest natives of any land in Nyarlea.”
“Which is exactly why—” Emberlynn said.
“Please,” Tristan continued, “allow me to finish.”
Ravyn covered the side of her face closest to Emberlynn and grinned.
“It would be wise to remind the citizens that as many catgirls come in as they come out. Shulan—and San Island, to be quite truthful—are bastions that promise a lifetime of wealth if one is savvy enough with their business decisions. Every catgirl I have ever spoken to knows this. I spent my first years in a room, and even I know that.”
Emberlynn mulled over the boy’s words. “Say we do as you suggest and hire nyannies from other islands to assist us. There is still the issue of wages. Education and child-rearing are not cheap ventures. Pay will have to be cut from somewhere.”
“I agree with you. But after personally witnessing the hardships of many of Shi and Ichi Island’s residents, I can assure you that you would be able to strike a deal that would work in both of your favor. If you offered those desiring to become nyannies a solid roof over their heads, food on their tables, and the means to care for the kittens, no additional wages would be required.”
Catania… Ravyn hadn’t wanted to spend a single day more in that hole. Surely there were others who agreed with her.
Emberlynn laughed. “I find that difficult to believe.”
“It’s an offer we readily accepted,” Destiny said quietly. “There are many from Leche and Anyona who dream of such an opportunity.”
“You can offer the same setup to the people of San Island,” Tristan suggested. He continued before Emberlynn could counter. “That way, they won’t feel as if you’d looked over them for jobs.”
“There will be those who try to take advantage,” Emberlynn said.
Like you, Mother.
“Then have them supervised. Check in with their kittens to see how things are going. Surely a few of the guards can add their houses to their routes?” Tristan perched his elbows on the armrests of his chair.
“This could work,” Emberlynn said. “However, there are an overwhelming number of kittens gallivanting about—many near adulthood. I do not believe we have enough residential buildings to offer the nyannies nor the guards for the routes.”
“What about offering new nyannies in some of the smaller cities?” Tristan exhaled through his nose and leaned on one arm. “None of the children enjoy living the way they do. That, I can promise you.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Ravyn said. “I’ve seen how some of them look. Some of them definitely enjoy the life they live. They’ve grown into it.”
“Uhm.” Lara raised her hand. “I have an idea.”
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