For a long moment after Elias departed, silence lingered at the table like a fog that no one dared to dispel. Then, someone scoffed, "what a good bluff."
An old trader with a crooked nose and thinning hair nodded too, "Hah! Did you all hear that?" he said in a voice rough with amusement. "Twice the gold? That man probably pawned his own estate just to pay for tonight's coat. And now he promises such a large sum as if he had hidden mines beneath his house."
As if a dam had broken, laughter erupted from everywhere. The table that had been stiff with tension now bubbled with mockery. their discomfort melted into shared ridicule.
A younger noble with golden rings on every finger leaned toward the baron and whispered loudly enough for all to hear, "I think you were just being merciful, my lord. You let him leave with dignity."
Lord Velmore's smile returned slowly, slithering onto his face like a snake tasting the air. He adjusted his cuffs and leaned back. the tension in his shoulders eased, "Yes," he agreed smoothly and spoke in a voice laced with false humility. "He made a bold claim, but anyone can speak when their purse is empty. I could not embarrass my guest when he went to such lengths to show off."
The crooked-nosed trader banged his goblet on the table and nodded, "It is a clever performance, I will give him that. Acting as if he holds the reins just to bluff his way through. He thinks wearing gloves and quoting numbers makes him one of us."
"Perhaps it's the Crestford name he is relying on," another chimed in, a wiry noble with a wine-stained smile. "Did he think people forget how low that name fell? He is completely bankrupt, if I remember correctly."
"A baron in title alone," the younger noble added, his voice thick with derision. "A man with manners but no means."
More laughter followed with a cruel and indulgent tone. Even the merchants, who ought to be more cautious, joined in with smug smirks and muttered jabs. They were all eager to believe the fantasy: that Elias Crestford was nothing but a ghost dressed in silk, haunting a world that had outgrown him.
Only two older and more seasoned men held back. They exchanged glances but said nothing, their silence lost in the waves of jabs and snickers.
Velmore held up his hand at last with a mock-serious gesture that quieted the group slightly. "Now, now," he said with his lips twitching with restrained glee, "let's not mock the man too harshly. He might surprise us all. Who knows, perhaps he has a hidden vault somewhere and we do not know about it."
The table burst into laughter again. But beneath the surface of his amusement, Velmore's eyes glimmered with a far colder light. He had intended to humiliate Elias tonight. He had only called him to crush him publicly, reduce him to ash in the court of nobility. And yet the man had turned it around and lied to save his spine.
Velmore hated him for his arrogance and defiance. He should have bowed like a dog when he was given the chance. But most of all, he hated the seed of doubt that now scratched at the back of other's mind.
What if Elias wasn't bluffing? What if he really could pay? What if others decided to give him a chance?
No! Velmore crushed the thought before it could grow. "Still," he said in a light tone "I would hate to doubt a man's honor. He did make a generous offer."
"He did," said one of the older merchants. "But it's not generosity if it's fake."
"Exactly!" Velmore exclaimed, slapping his hand against the table in mock enthusiasm. "Which is why I propose something simple."
He let the silence stretch for a second to get everyone's attention.
"We can visit Lord Crestford's estate tomorrow morning." he added, as if he were doing Elias a favor. "We will go for tea, inquire about his offer, and perhaps, if he really intends to pay, we can allow him the chance to present the gold he so confidently promised."
One of the nobles raised a brow. "You mean to test him?"
Velmore smiled slowly. He did not hide the predatory look completely from his eyes, "of course not, i will call it confirmation. If he has nothing to hide, he won't mind us confirming. And if he does," he shrugged, "we will have done him a kindness by revealing the truth before he embarrasses himself further."
There was a chorus of nods and smug chuckles.
"Yes, let's see the fortune he claims to have," said the golden-ringed noble.
"And if he doesn't?" asked the crooked-nosed merchant with a smirk.
"Then," Velmore said, his voice growing colder, "I shall ensure that not a single noble or merchant dares to do business with him again. He will be nothing more than a dressed-up beggar knocking on locked doors."
They all raised their goblets at that, some in jest, others in eager anticipation.
"Tomorrow morning then," Velmore concluded, dabbing his lips with a silk handkerchief. "We will ride out to Crestford Manor. I imagine we will find either good entertainment or good wealth."
"And maybe," the younger noble said with a grin, "we will catch him with all the silvers he had stuffed in his coat tonight thinking we won't notice."
Laughter rose once more, echoing under the high chandeliers of the hall. Behind it all, Velmore sat like a king at a table of fools, his rage carefully hidden beneath a pleasant mask. But his eyes burned with something viler than laughter.
Elias Crestford had embarrassed him in front of his peers. Now, he would tear away the man's illusions publicly. There would be no whispers of quiet success, no rumors of hidden wealth. He would expose him before the nobility, humiliate him so thoroughly that even Cladria would never look at him without pity or scorn again.
Tomorrow that man would regret every speaking in front of him.