He was woken up by somebody shaking him vigorously. Blinking away sleep, Leon turned and found Kara leaning over him, her brows knitted in concern.
"Finally," she said, letting out a relieved sigh. "You sleep like a rock."
Leon rubbed his eyes, still disoriented. "What's going on?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
"Clara came to visit you," Kara informed him as she stood up, tucking her loose hair behind her ears.
That woke him up faster than cold water. "Clara?" he repeated, his mind still catching up. "She's here?"
Kara nodded. "She arrived not long ago. She's waiting for you — and she's not alone."
Leon's eyes narrowed slightly. "Who's with her?"
"She came with the owner of the inn where she works," Kara said, folding her arms.
Leon frowned, the last traces of sleep vanishing. "Did they say why?"
"No," Kara replied, shaking her head.
Leon rose quickly, following Kara toward the sitting room. The small house was quiet except for the soft crackle of the dying fire in the hearth. Morning light filtered through the shutters, casting narrow bands of gold across the packed earthen floor.
Leon stopped a few steps from the table, studying the two visitors. Clara looked nervous, her hands clasped together tightly. The innkeeper — a thickset man with a weathered face and the faint scent of smoke about him — rose to his feet and gave a small nod of greeting.
"Leon," Clara began carefully, "this is Master Harn, the owner of the Silver Pot Inn where I work."
"Master Harn, this is my brother, Leon."
Master Harn rose slightly from his seat and extended a broad, calloused hand. "A pleasure to finally meet you."
Leon clasped it firmly. "Likewise." He gave a small nod. "And… Thank you for taking care of my sisters."
Harn waved a hand modestly. "Ah, no need for thanks. Clara's a fine worker — honest and quick with customers. Any innkeeper would be glad to have her."
Clara smiled faintly, a hint of pride softening her nervousness. Kara stood nearby, watching the exchange quietly, her expression unreadable.
Leon gestured toward the bench across from him. "Please, sit. To what do I owe your visit this morning?"
Harn sat again, resting his hat on his knee. "A bit of business, if you'll hear me out. "That dish you showed Clara before — the hand-pulled wheat noodles in herb broth. I had a taste of it yesterday when she tried making it at the inn. Clara mentioned you showed her how to prepare it once."
Leon leaned back slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "I did. What about it?"
Harn cleared his throat. "I'd like to buy the recipe from you. Folks at my inn haven't stopped talking about it."
Leon's eyes flicked toward Clara. "About that," he said evenly, a faint edge creeping into his voice. "Can I have a word with my sister, please?"
The shift in tone made Clara flinch slightly. Harn raised his brows, uncertain, but after a moment he nodded.
Leon stood and took Clara's hand, his grip gentle but unyielding. "Come," he said quietly, guiding her toward the door.
They stepped outside into the small yard, where the morning sun was climbing over the rooftops. A light breeze stirred the drying herbs strung along the fence, carrying the faint scent of mint and smoke.
Clara couldn't bring herself to meet her brother's eyes; she stood with her head bowed, fingers twisting the hem of her dress. The silence between them stretched, broken only by the clucking of a hen somewhere behind the house.
"I'm sorry…" she murmured.
"It's okay," Leon said gently, cutting her off before she could say more. His tone was soft, almost comforting. "I'm not upset. In fact, I'm glad you brought him — I just want to know a little more about his inn… and his competitors."
He listened carefully as Clara spoke, her voice soft but steady, while his mind worked quietly behind his calm expression — weighing motives, measuring opportunity.
This was his opportunity to make money, to pull his family out of debt. From Clara's words, he realized Master Harn was a wealthy man — owner of the largest inn in town, with little real competition to challenge him. The kind of man who could afford to invest in something valuable… and pay well for it.
Leon took a deep breath and glanced back toward the house, resolve steadying in his chest.
"Alright," he said, his voice calm but sure. "Let's go back. Let's not keep Master Harn waiting."
They stepped back inside, the faint scent of herbs and steam from breakfast still lingering in the air. Master Harn sat comfortably on the bench, fingers drumming lightly on the wood while his eyes flicked toward the doorway as they entered.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Leon apologized, settling back onto the bench opposite him.
"No trouble at all," Harn replied with an easy grin.
Clara stood quietly to the side, her hands folded before her, while Kara moved about the hearth — feeding kindling into the small fire and setting a pot over it. The faint crackle of flame filled the silence for a moment.
"To be honest with you, Master Harn, you're not the first one offering to buy the recipe," Leon said, his tone carrying a hint of regret.
The words had the desired effect — Harn's fingers stopped drumming against the table. His brows rose slightly, surprise flickering across his face. "Oh?" he asked, trying — and failing — to sound casual. "Someone else has shown interest?"
Leon nodded slowly, sighing as though the situation weighed on him.
"A few merchants passing through tasted it last week. One of them even offered a decent sum."
He paused deliberately, letting his words settle, then added with quiet firmness, "But I wasn't sure I wanted to let it go yet — and the price was too low."
Master Harn's eyes sharpened with interest. "How much were they offering?"
Leon didn't answer immediately. He met Harn's gaze, letting the question hang just long enough to build weight. Then, with the same calm tone he'd carried all along, he said,
"Two gold coins."
The faint crackle of the fire was the only sound that followed. Even Clara glanced up sharply, eyes widening — two gold was more than most families saw in a season.
Master Harn's fingers stopped drumming. His brows shot up, then furrowed as he studied Leon, searching for any sign of jest. "Two… gold?" he repeated slowly, as though testing the words. "That's a steep price for a bowl of noodles."
"We both know it's not a simple recipe," Leon said evenly, his gaze steady and voice calm but confident. "The initial cost to make a pot of noodles isn't even equivalent to the price of two bowls."
He let the words sink in before continuing. "You could sell twenty bowls from one pot — maybe more — and every one of them would turn a profit. The herbs, the wheat, the broth… they're all common."
Harn leaned forward, elbows on the table, listening closely now.
Leon went on, his tone almost conversational but sharp beneath the surface. "So, two gold for a recipe that will pay for itself in less than a week, and keep paying for as long as your inn stands — I'd say that's a bargain, wouldn't you agree, Master Harn?"
The innkeeper gave a short laugh, impressed despite himself. "Won't I have competition if you sell to another person?" he asked, arching a brow.
Leon smiled faintly, as if he had expected the question. "You won't," he said simply. "I only plan to sell it once."
That made Harn pause. His eyes narrowed, testing Leon's tone for deceit. "Only once? You're sure of that?"
"Yes," Leon replied smoothly. "Besides, I have many more products I plan to sell in the future. Wouldn't it be wiser for me to have you as a friend rather than an enemy?"
Harn's brows lifted, and then a slow grin spread across his face. "Heh… smart lad. So how much are you willing to sell?"
Leon leaned back slightly, as though giving the matter its due weight. Then, with calm certainty, he said, "Three gold coins."
The grin on Harn's face faltered for a heartbeat. "Three gold?" he repeated, his voice caught somewhere between surprise and amusement.
Then, after a pause, he nodded slowly. "Alright," he said at last. "I'll pay half now and the other half after you teach one of my cooks the recipe."
Leon raised a brow, faintly surprised by how quickly the man accepted. But he could tell from the glint in Harn's eyes that the innkeeper had made his calculations — and realized it was better to be on good terms than to haggle with someone who clearly knew his worth.
"That's fair," Leon said evenly. "I'll come by your inn tomorrow and show your cook how it's done."
Harn's grin returned, broader this time. "Good! I'll have the coin ready. And Leon—" he added, rising from the bench, "—I like doing business with clever people. You and I might just make fine partners in the future."
Leon smiled faintly, standing as well. "So long as it's profitable for both of us, Master Harn, I see no reason why not."
The two men clasped hands, sealing the deal.