“Actually, there is,” Nikandr said, pausing for effect. “There’s been word, Aleksei, that you traffic in certain goods.”

“Goods, My Lord?” Aleksei’s face remained composed, but the skin along the top of his balding head flushed.

Nikandr leaned forward. “I’m not here in an official capacity, Aleksei.”

Aleksei’s eyes thinned and his eyebrows pulled together for one brief moment, but then he leaned back into his burgundy leather chair with a look of understanding. “Your sister?”

Nikandr nodded. “She has time yet, but the final stages approach.”

“There are several unguents I might recommend, but-”

“I’m here for the grubs. You have two, do you not?”

Aleksei tried-and failed-to hide his surprise. “I–I do, but they are more effective in the early stages of the disease.”

“Let me worry about that.”

Aleksei sat higher in his chair. “My Lord, they’re both spoken for.”

“I’m sure you’ll find more.”

Aleksei looked defeated, but it was only an act. Nikandr knew how shrewd he was. And how greedy.

“I could make arrangements, but my patrons, the ones who were promised the grubs, will be arriving tomorrow. I can only imagine their anger.”

“The price, Aleksei.”

“Two-thousand.”

Nikandr paused, allowing the figure to sit in the cool air between them. “They’re worth eight-hundred. No more.”

“A year ago, da, but times have changed. We have become more desperate.”

“Twelve-hundred, Aleksei. That is all I will pay.”

“My Lord-”

“And I’ll ensure,” Nikandr said, sitting back, “that my brother’s men steer wide of the Master’s office.”

Aleksei looked around the office as if he had just considered what would happen were he to refuse Nikandr’s offer.