"Jasmin," he began, pitching his voice low and calm, deliberately gentle. He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile, though smiling didn't come naturally to his default eighty-year-old internal setting. "Please, stand up. There's no need for such ceremony between us."
She rose hesitantly, still avoiding his gaze, her eyes fixed firmly on the floor near his boots. She fidgeted, twisting a corner of her apron between her fingers. Pure, unadulterated intimidation radiated off her in waves.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you," Lloyd continued, glancing around pointedly, acknowledging the curious onlookers without directly engaging them. Most quickly looked away, pretending renewed interest in their tasks, though he knew ears were straining. "I wished to speak with you privately, if possible."
"P-privately, my lord?" Jasmin echoed, sounding even more alarmed. What could the Young Lord possibly want with her privately? Had she done something wrong? Was she about to be dismissed? Or... As long as she knows Lloyd doesn't have any scandal record. In fact before his marriage he never had even a single female friend or attendant. Her mind likely raced through a thousand terrifying possibilities.
"Just for a moment," Lloyd assured her. "I have a proposal. A project, you see. Separate from your usual duties here." He leaned in slightly conspiratorially, lowering his voice further, forcing her to focus on him rather than her fear. "A personal venture of mine. And it requires someone with… particular skills. Someone discreet."
Jasmin blinked rapidly, confusion replacing some of the fear. Skills? Her skills? "My lord, I… I only work with the meats," she stammered, gesturing vaguely at the carcass nearby. "I butcher, I trim… it is simple work."
"Simple?" Lloyd allowed a hint of amusement in his tone. "Perhaps to you, Jasmin, because you possess a rare talent. But crucial for my initial phase." He paused, letting the implied compliment sink in before delivering the hook. "I require your assistance, Jasmin. Directly. And I am prepared to compensate you generously for your time and discretion."
Her eyes widened again, flickers of hope warring with ingrained disbelief. Compensation? Directly from the heir?
"How generously?" Lloyd preempted her unspoken question. "Let's say… triple your current wages. Paid directly by me, for as long as you assist me on this project."
A soft gasp escaped her lips. Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes round as saucers. Triple? It was a fortune beyond imagining. Enough to… enough to perhaps finally afford…
"And," Lloyd pressed his advantage, playing the card he knew held the most weight, the information in own his own dim memories, "there is the matter of your mother."
Jasmin flinched as if physically struck. Her head snapped up, eyes locking with his, fear flooding back, mixed now with desperate hope and profound confusion.
"Your mother," Lloyd repeated softly, holding her gaze. "The River Cough worsens, doesn't it? The damp winters are cruel. She needs specialists, the physicians at the Grand Infirmary in the capital. Their fees…" He let the sentence hang, the implication clear.
"How…?" she whispered, her voice trembling, raw. "How do you know of my mother's illness, my lord? Who told you?" It was a closely guarded family sorrow, spoken of only in hushed tones, a constant, gnawing worry.
Lloyd offered a small, enigmatic smile. He needed her to see him not just as the Young Lord, but as someone capable, knowledgeable, perhaps even slightly dangerous in his awareness. "Jasmin, I assure you, I do my research. When I choose someone to work closely with me on a sensitive project, I make it my business to understand their situation, their motivations, their… needs." He let the unspoken message linger: I see things. I know things. Working with me brings benefits beyond mere coin. "Let's just say I believe in rewarding loyalty and competence appropriately."
He watched her process this. The shock, the hope warring with fear, the dawning realization that this impossible offer might actually be real.
"If you dedicate yourself to assisting me faithfully," Lloyd continued, his voice firm but kind, "consider your mother's medical expenses covered. I will personally ensure she sees the best physicians the capital has to offer. Whatever treatment she requires, it will be provided. Consider it… part of your compensation package."
The combination was overwhelming. Financial security beyond her wildest dreams, coupled with the potential salvation of her ailing mother. Tears welled instantly, blurring her vision. She swayed slightly, overcome.
Got her, Lloyd thought with grim satisfaction. A bit manipulative? Maybe. Necessary? Absolutely. Loyalty bought with coin is fleeting. Loyalty bought with hope, with the life of a loved one… that runs deeper.
"So, Jasmin," he asked gently, but with an underlying firmness that demanded an answer. "My offer stands. Triple wages. Your mother's care secured. In return, your skill, your time, and your absolute discretion for my project. Are you willing?"