The apothecary wing smelled different in the late afternoons with the full sun coming trough the narrow windows.

  Less sharp than alchemy. Less damp than the lower labs. Warmed by slow brews and ground compounds left to settle instead of burn. Shelves lined the walls in disciplined rows, jars labeled in steady hands, the air carrying the faint sweetness of things meant to be taken internally — carefully.

  Lysara moved through it with purpose, satchel light at her side.

  She was halfway down the aisle when Rowana nearly collided with her.

  “—no, that won’t work,” Rowana was saying over her shoulder, already turning away from whoever she’d been addressing. She stopped short, eyes snapping into focus. “Oh. You.”

  “Me.”

  Rowana’s gaze flicked to her hair and paused. She reached out, guiding Lysara a half step beneath the muted lamps, then angled her head to see it from a different side.

  “Hold still,” she said, already reaching out.

  Lysara stiffened a fraction, then let her.

  Rowana caught a loose strand between her fingers, rubbing it lightly, eyes narrowing in concentration. “That set clean,” she murmured. “No bleed. No dulling.”

  She released it and leaned back.

  Then she smiled.

  “Oh,” she said. “That would sell much better than the green I’ve been making.”

  “The green?”

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Rowana let out a brief laugh. “You don’t think I’d pay someone else to make mine.”

  “It’s Popular. Safe. Predictable.” Rowana waved a hand. “And flat. People buy it because it behaves.”

  Her eyes slid back to Lysara’s hair. “This is not flat.”

  Lysara frowned slightly. “It’s just pigment balance.”

  Rowana laughed under her breath. “No. It’s control.” She tilted her head. “And it’s worlds better than that muddy brown-pink you were sporting before.”

  Lysara winced. “I haven’t found a substitute plant yet. The one I was using gave it the brown tint.”

  Rowana’s eyes sharpened. “So how about going in business with me?”

  “I’m sure, you have questions,” Rowana said lightly. “About funding and profit.”

  Lysara stilled for half a breath. “I didn’t ask—”

  “You didn’t have to.” Rowana glanced at her. “You don’t strike me as someone who enjoys owing people, or who doesn’t know the value of having your own coin.”

  Lysara didn’t argue.

  They reached the counter together. Rowana began pulling jars with practiced speed, checking seals, scanning labels, already halfway through a mental inventory.

  “Good.” Rowana set two jars aside. “Then let’s make it simple.”

  She leaned in, voice dropping just enough to stay private. “If you can reproduce this reliably, I could move it. Quietly. Small batches at first.”

  Lysara studied her.

  “You’re serious,”

  “Completely,” Rowana replied. “And I don’t say that lightly.”

  “And the terms?”

  Rowana smiled. “You produce. I source and distribute. We log everything cleanly, so it doesn’t come back on either of us.” She shrugged. “You keep the larger share. I take enough to justify access and time.”

  “You’re planning far ahead.”

  Rowana laughed softly. “Someone has to.” Then, more honestly, “And I don’t intend to graduate unnoticed.”

  They completed the transaction without ceremony. Credits transferred. Materials logged. Nothing that would draw attention.

  As they stepped away from the counter, Rowana slowed just enough to match Lysara’s pace.

  “Field tryouts today,” she said, casual. “You’ll be late.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Rowana nodded once. “Try not to break anything.”

  They reached the junction where their paths split. Rowana adjusted her satchel, already shifting back into motion.

  “I’ll check in later,” she said. “Just to confirm supply.”

  “I’ll have it ready,” Lysara replied.

  Rowana smiled, satisfied, and turned toward her own corridor, already accelerating toward whatever came next.

  Lysara watched her go for a moment longer than necessary.

  Then she adjusted her own satchel and headed for the training grounds.