Isaac’s mind raced. He vaguely remembered the dispute; his father had halted exports of several luxury goods, including the premium Blue Moon Spirit, as leverage during a set of nasty trade disputes that had occurred three years ago.
“He used to have it imported specially,” Vera continued. “He would drink a glass every night before bed. When the exports stopped, he nearly went ballistic. Sent delegates to negotiate specifically for that, but your father refused.”
Isaac nodded, a sly little smile quirking his lips. This was exactly the kind of leverage he needed—something small enough to seem inconsequential but significant enough to matter.
“Thank you for telling me this, Vera,” he said, stepping back. “You’ve been a very good girl.”
Vera’s face turned a delicate shade of p
