Sunlight fractured into kaleidoscopic splinters as it navigated Ironweave’s metal latticework, transforming the city into a mosaic of brilliance that dazzled from every angle. Thadan breathed in the crisp morning air as he strolled through the marketplace, a spring in his step and a whistle on his lips. Birds chirped from their perches on window ledges and awnings, seemingly as pleased with the day as he was. Life was beautiful.

  Othh and his inspection crew had successfully completed their survey without a single casualty from those horrifying Inverse Bats he’d described in such graphic detail. But that wasn’t the important part. The important part was that Othh had paid them twenty gold coins. Twenty. Gold. Coins. Brakar and he could live comfortably for two months with that kind of money, more than comfortably—they could even buy a small boat if they wanted. Not that Thadan wanted a boat, but the possibility existed, and that was the point.

  Instead, they’d done the responsible thing. Kip had been compensated for his beautiful craftsmanship, Naia had been compensated (though they were still negotiating her permanent wages), Miles had been compensated for his bizarre but effective alchemical concoctions, and they were finally, gloriously debt-free—including Thadan’s notorious tab at The Six Spoons. The owner had actually looked surprised when Thadan handed over the coins, as if he’d assumed that particular debt would follow him to the grave.

  Their provisional business license had become a permanent approval by the Ironweave Commerce Guild. They weren’t just two retired adventurers playing at being merchants anymore—Mimic & Co. had five employees and a shit ton of customers. Most wanted lanterns, yes, but real furniture was becoming an increasingly popular part of their business... well, “real” might be stretching it, but people knew what he meant. Furniture had actually been their primary target since the beginning, after all.

  The hard part was keeping up with demand. They’d just been able to close all fourteen orders Naia had collected while he’d been away on his top-secret mission to the Brightsteel estate, but more orders had piled up over the past three weeks. At least their load was at a comfortable nine unfulfilled orders now, since most of the recurring business was for lanterns. They still had the twenty that Othh had returned, so they could keep renting them out based on priority and need. The good thing about the lanterns was that they could feed them the maintenance solution before sending them out again—a nice, steady stream of income.

  Rytha had been keeping up her end of the bargain too, steadily bringing them five to seven mimics every week or two from her dungeon expeditions. The quality was excellent—she had a knack for finding specimens that took well to transformation. Sometimes Thadan wondered what exactly Rytha was doing with that fancy skull artifact he’d given her, but he wasn’t complaining about the steady supply of mimics.

  For the furniture, though... Mimic & Co. had started including a complementary three-month maintenance service with each purchase. That was what Thadan was doing today. He’d already serviced two chairs and was on his way to his last call of the day. The complementary maintenance was Naia’s idea, and at the very least it would give them time to perfect Miles’ top-secret solution, which was still in R&D.

  But all in all, life was good. Business was good. And it was all there in black and white on their financial ledger, which Brakar had taken to updating with a pleasure that bordered on the obscene.

  Thadan bounded up the well-maintained stone steps, whistling the tune of "The Maiden's Last Kiss"—a bawdy tavern song that had no place in this neighborhood. The mansion loomed before him, its red brick exterior catching the morning light in a way that made it glow with quiet dignity. Symmetrical windows with gleaming glass panes stared down at him like the judgmental eyes of the aristocracy.

  Far more impressive than our shop, he thought, adjusting his collar. He'd worn his best tunic today—the one with only a faint wine stain after Brakar's best efforts.

  The gardens surrounding the property put the city's public parks to shame. Hedges trimmed with geometric precision formed natural walls around beds of flowers Thadan couldn't name but knew were expensive. A fountain burbled in the center of a circular path, the water catching the sunlight and throwing tiny rainbows across the stonework.

  He lifted the brass knocker—shaped like a lion's head with a ring clutched in its teeth—and let it fall against the massive oak door. The sound echoed, not just outside, but through the entire structure. Thadan shifted his weight from foot to foot, aware now of the scuff marks on his boots and the way his hair looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. Which he had, but that wasn't the point.

  It swung open without a sound—a sign of well-oiled hinges that cost more than his rent each month.

  Edwin stood in the doorway, his silver hair catching the light, his posture impeccable. The butler's eyes betrayed a flash of recognition, and though his expression remained neutral in his role, there was a hint of warmth in the slight upward turn of his mouth.

  "Ah, Master Ginedras. Right on schedule. Please, come in."

  Thadan stepped into an entrance hall that made him feel awed, yet also aware of his social standing. Polished wooden floors gleamed beneath his feet, reflecting the soft light from crystal chandeliers. Tasteful artwork adorned the walls—largely landscapes, with a few portraits of severe-looking ancestors who seemed to disapprove of his presence.

  "Nice place," Thadan said, then realized he should have said something more sophisticated. "Very... architectural."

  Edwin's expression didn't change, but Thadan could've sworn he saw amusement flash in the old man's eyes.

  "Indeed, sir. The east wing dates back to the pre-Unification era, though the main structure was rebuilt during the Harmonious Restoration. Lady Caroline is in the south drawing room. If you'll follow me."

  As they walked through corridors lined with more artwork and the occasional display of what looked like expensive but pointless objects, Thadan found himself reimagining the Mimic & Co. shop. One day, he promised himself. One day we'll have a showroom that makes this place look like a peasant's hovel. He could picture it—mimic furniture arranged in tasteful displays, wealthy clients sipping wine as Naia explained the benefits of sentient seating, and him—counting gold coins in a private office with a view of the city.

  Edwin led him through an archway into a sun-drenched living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the garden, filling the space with natural light that highlighted the rich colors of the furnishings. And there, positioned to catch the sunlight without being overwhelmed by it, was one of their mimic-chairs—sleek, elegant, and supporting a sleeping Caroline.

  The chair had adjusted itself to support her unusual sleeping position, her legs curled to one side while her head rested against a portion of the backrest that had reshaped itself into something resembling a pillow. The chair's surface had a subtle iridescence in the sunlight—something Thadan hadn't noticed when they'd delivered it.

  "Lady Caroline," Edwin said in a low tone. "Master Ginedras has arrived for the maintenance appointment."

  Caroline stirred, her eyes fluttering open with the grace of someone who'd been taught the proper way to wake up. Her face brightened with recognition as she saw Thadan, and she adjusted herself to a more proper sitting position. The chair shifted beneath her, maintaining perfect support.

  "Thadan! How wonderful to see you again." Her voice carried the refined accent of the upper nobility but was warmed by genuine enthusiasm. "Edwin, could you bring us some refreshment?"

  "Of course, my lady." The butler bowed with a small motion and withdrew, leaving them alone.

  Caroline gestured to a conventional armchair opposite her. "Please, sit. I've been eagerly awaiting your visit. This chair has been nothing short of miraculous."

  Thadan sat, noting with professional interest how the conventional chair felt stiff and unyielding compared to their mimic products. "I'm glad to hear it. We aim for 'miracle' status with all our furniture."

  She laughed—a delicate sound that nevertheless filled the room. "Well, you've certainly succeeded. I can't tell you what a difference it's made. I can actually spend entire afternoons reading without discomfort. And my mobility has increased significantly—I believe it's because I'm no longer in constant pain while sitting."

  "That's exactly what we designed it for," Thadan lied with ease. In truth, they'd simply asked the mimic to become a chair and hoped for the best, but Caroline didn't need to know that.

  "The way it adjusts to my position is remarkable," she continued, demonstrating by shifting her posture. The chair flowed under her, cradling her spine and limbs. "I've shown it to several of my physician specialists, and they're fascinated. Dr. Merriwell actually asked me for your business card."

  "Always happy to expand our clientele," Thadan replied, though a nervous flutter ran through him at the thought of physicians scrutinizing their products. "Speaking of which, I've brought the new feeding solution we discussed in my last letter."

  He reached into his satchel and produced a small vial filled with a shimmering blue liquid—Miles' latest creation. The alchemist had worked without rest on improvements, and this batch was formulated for long-term stability.

  "This should extend the transformation period significantly," he explained, removing the cork. "And improve overall responsiveness. May I?"

  Caroline nodded, and Thadan approached the chair. He knelt beside it, finding the barely visible seam along its base where the mimic could consume the solution without breaking its disguise. He poured the liquid into the small opening, watching as it was absorbed in an instant.

  The chair shuddered in a faint way, then settled. Its surface took on a deeper luster.

  "There we go," Thadan said, standing. "Good for another three months, at least. Though I'm happy to come back sooner if you notice any changes."

  Edwin returned with a tray bearing a silver tea service and small cakes that looked too delicate to consume. He set it on a side table and began pouring with practiced efficiency.

  "Will there be anything else, my lady?"

  "No thank you, Edwin. That will be all for now."

  The butler nodded and withdrew, though Thadan noticed he left it a bit ajar—no doubt keeping an ear out for his charge despite her obvious comfort with the visitor.

  Caroline accepted a cup from the service. "You must tell me how business is going. I've been following your progress with interest."

  Thadan launched into an overview of Mimic & Co.'s recent successes, careful to emphasize their growing reputation while downplaying the frantic scramble that characterized most of their days. He mentioned their expanding product line, their new employees, and their recent licensing approval without dwelling on the bureaucratic nightmare that had accompanied it.

  Caroline listened with genuine interest, asking questions about their manufacturing process (which Thadan answered with creative vagueness) and their plans for expansion. Their conversation moved from business to more casual topics—the changing seasons in Ironweave, a new restaurant that had opened near the university district, a traveling theater troupe performing in the city square.

  "Oh, before I forget," Caroline said as their conversation reached a natural pause, "I've taken the liberty of mentioning your shop to several acquaintances. The Duchess of Embercove was particularly interested after seeing my chair during our last salon gathering. It caused quite a stir when it adjusted itself while I was reaching for a book."

  Thadan had to fight not to choke on his tea. The Duchess of Embercove was one of the wealthiest landowners in the region. "That's... extremely generous of you."

  Caroline waved away his thanks. "Not at all. Quality craftsmanship deserves recognition, and I assure you my friends can afford your prices." She hesitated, then added with a small smile, "Though you might want to consider a special 'nobility rate' for such distinguished clientele."

  Thadan recognized the suggestion for what it was—a reminder that the wealthy expected to pay more for exclusivity. "Of course. We always adjust our pricing structure for... distinguished clientele."

  Their meeting continued for another half-hour, concluding with Caroline pressing a small envelope into his hand. "Your maintenance fee, as agreed. Plus a small bonus for the excellent service."

  The envelope felt much heavier than their agreed rate, but Thadan knew better than to comment on it. Instead, he offered a small bow—a gesture he'd never have attempted in his adventuring days, but which seemed appropriate in this setting.

  "It's always a pleasure, Lady Caroline. Please don't hesitate to send word if you need anything at all."

  As Edwin escorted him back through the mansion's winding corridors, Thadan found himself walking taller. This was what success felt like—being welcomed into homes like this, treated with respect by people who could buy and sell his entire existence without noticing the expense.

  At the grand entrance, Edwin paused before opening it. "Master Ginedras, if I may say so, Lady Caroline has greatly benefited from your... product. Her condition often makes finding suitable accommodations challenging, and your chair has provided more relief than any of the custom furnishings we've commissioned over the years."

  Thadan was surprised by the personal comment from the otherwise reserved man. "I'm glad we could help. That's really what we're about—furniture that adapts to people, not the other way around."

  That’s good, he thought. We should put that on a sign.

  Edwin's expression softened in a subtle way. "Indeed. I've served the family for many years, and it does my heart good to see her comfort improved. She's mentioned you might be creating other pieces in the future?"

  "Absolutely. We're working on a full line of adaptive furniture. I'd be happy to keep you informed of new developments."

  "Please do." Edwin opened the door, sunlight flooding the entryway. "Good day, Master Ginedras."

  The walk back to Mimic & Co. seemed shorter than usual, Thadan's steps lighter as he calculated the contents of Caroline's envelope in his head. If the bonus was as generous as he suspected, they might be able to move forward with the showroom renovations sooner than planned. Maybe they could even afford that fancy imported wood Kip had been hinting would make excellent display platforms.

  The shop came into view, its new paint gleaming in the midday sun. MIMIC & CO. in bold lettering, with the smaller tagline "Furniture That Adapts To You" beneath it. Thadan grinned at the sight. Not bad for a couple of failed adventurers who were almost devoured by the inventory.

  He pushed open the entrance, the little bell jingling in a pleasant tone to announce his arrival. Brakar was arranging their newest mimic display—a writing desk with an integrated bookshelf that could extend or retract based on the user's needs. The business had transformed in recent weeks, growing from their initial haphazard collection to an organized showroom with different "living spaces" showcasing their various products.

  "Brakar! You will not believe the morning I've had!" Thadan announced, without so much as a greeting.

  Brakar looked up, a resigned expression settling on his features. "Let me guess. You've discovered another 'revolutionary' marketing approach that involves dressed-up mimics performing synchronized dancing?"

  "What? No! That was last week's idea, and it still has merit." Thadan dropped his satchel on the counter and paced with enthusiasm. "This is much bigger. I've had a revelation about chair design while visiting Caroline."

  He didn't pause for breath as he launched into an elaborate explanation, his hands gesturing in energetic sweeps. "It's all about glute dynamics analysis—the scientifically optimal curves for posterior comfort across different species and body types!"

  Brakar's brow furrowed. "Glute... what?"