I looked at the pair with a furrowed brow, curious as to what could have caused the current situation. “Yes,” I said slowly, looking back to the receptionist, “I’m with them. We’re here to see Elise. She’s an old family friend.”
“Oh, good,” he sighed, looking relieved. “Did you have an appointment?”
“I’m afraid not,” I answered apologetically. “Just tell her the Corell family is here to see her.”
“Hmm,” he mused, his face shifting to one of concern. “Miss Tressel is very busy today, I’m not sure she’ll have time—”
I held up a finger to cut him off and retrieved my coin purse from my belt. “If that’s not enough,” I added, shaking the purse with a satisfying jingle, “tell her that they have a lucrative business opportunity to discuss as well.”
He eyed our group nervously for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll relay the message. Please wait here.” He left his desk and moved to the back door, pausing one more time to look the five of us over before he disappeared into the stairwell.
Satisfied, I turned back to Marten to find out what had flustered him so badly, only to find him staring at me in stunned silence. “What?” I asked, confused. I looked to Hana and Marin for support, only to find them with the same shocked expression. I took a step back towards Lia and held up my hands defensively. “What?!”
Marten shook his head in disbelief as if I had spoken complete gibberish. “What do you mean, ‘what’?! Since when do you speak fluent Lybesian?”
“Since when do I…” I managed to say before my brain put the pieces together. Marten was confused because he doesn’t actually speak Lybesian. The receptionist was speaking Lybesian, so if he understood me, I was clearly speaking Lybesian as well. “Oh, I’ve always known Lybesian, or at least, how to speak it,” I lied casually, mostly for Marin’s sake; had she not been present, I would have explained the helpful yet mysterious power that came with my reincarnations to Lia’s parents. “I picked it up when I lived in Doram.”
“In Doram?” Marten asked quizzically. “When were you in—” he interrupted himself suddenly as a spark of acknowledgement entered his eyes. “Right. When you lived in Doram.”
“I have to ask, Marten. Was your plan really to just walk in here and assume everybody would speak Kaldanic?” I prodded, trying to shift the focus away from my sudden knowledge of a foreign language.
“Well...yes!” he answered. “It worked last time I was here!”
Marin laughed. “It’s a good thing you brought me along, Marten. I’m not sure your business could have survived the language barrier without my help.” She rubbed her hands together and put on a sinister smile. “We’ll have to consider that in my upcoming contract negotiations.”
Marten moved to respond, but a loud bang from the stairwell in front of us drew all of our attention to the door. The receptionist returned a moment later, red-faced and flustered. “Miss Tressel will see you all in her office immediately. Please follow me.”
We entered the narrow stairwell single file and followed him up to another reception room. It was much larger than the initial entryway, with multiple sets of tables and chairs in a waiting area, plus a larger reception desk at the back of the room that blocked a wooden door labeled in gold lettering. The woman attending the new desk eyed us suspiciously as we were led past her post to the door. “Just through here. She’s ready for you.”
Without hesitation, Marten knocked and opened the door simultaneously, leading the way into the office. The room was lavishly decorated, implying the success Marten had spoken about on the road had only grown since his last visit. The wall to our left was covered floor to ceiling in beautifully intricate maps, each depicting a different country or region thereof. The opposite wall was lined with bookshelves packed with ledgers, books, and various bundles of loose paper. Light poured in from a small, square window at the far end of the room and was supplemented by two small chandeliers. A small rolling cart stocked with bottles and crystal decanters of amber liquid sat next to the extravagant blue-dyed emberwood desk that faced the door. Behind the desk was a high-backed chair made of the same polished wood, upon which our host sat.
“Marten! Hana!” she cried out excitedly, jumping up from the desk as we all entered the room and closed the door behind us. Elise stood at the same height as Lia and her mother, with vibrant green eyes behind a set of square glasses and puffy, blue-black hair that was held in a messy bun above her head by three large pins. She wore a knit gray sweater that seemed to be missing most of its fabric; it had no back, no sleeves, and a diamond shaped hole in the center of her chest, all of which combined to reveal a shocking amount of sable skin. Likewise, her tight black skirt was cut up one side nearly to her hip and looked to be held in place only by a thin, blue belt.
She rushed towards us and embraced Hana tightly, shaking her around like a dog with a new toy. The room was filled with a melodious echo as the two women laughed and exchanged hellos. Without warning, Elise dropped Hana and moved on to Marten and gave him similar treatment. Lia stepped ahead excitedly, and Elise let out a loud gasp when their eyes met. “No!” she exclaimed dramatically. “This can’t be little Marly, can it? No! You’re all grown up!”
“Hi, Aunt Ellie!” Lia yelled, jumping forward for a hug. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“Oh, Marly,” she said, sounding as if she were on the verge of tears, “it’s so good to see you. You’re such
