WINTER'S INNOVATIONS

Marcus jolted awake to enthusiastic tapping on his head. A familiar morning ritual from the twins, Tim and Tam. But today their energy seemed even more boundless than usual, their giggles echoing through the cramped quarters of Room 47.

"Marcus! Marcus! Wake up!" Tim chirped, bouncing on his makeshift bed.

"Tom's back from the mines!" Tam added excitedly. "And he looks different!"

Marcus rubbed his eyes and sat up, immediately noticing the crisp chill in the air. Winter was beginning in Valdris, though no snow had fallen yet. Through the small window, he could see his breath forming small clouds.

"Different how?" Marcus asked, stretching his stiff muscles.

Before either twin could answer, the door burst open and Tom strode in, causing Marcus to do a double-take. His cousin had somehow lost weight while keeping all his muscle mass, creating an almost sculptural physique that reminded Marcus of bodybuilding competitions he'd seen on TV.

"Marcus!" Tom boomed, his voice carrying its usual enthusiasm. "You won't believe what we hit yesterday. There's this super weird reserve deep in the mines. It's completely black, and when we swing our pickaxes at it, they just stick to it!"

Marcus's mind immediately made the connection. "Magnetite," he thought, though he kept the modern term to himself. Magnetic iron ore wasn't particularly revolutionary, but it could have interesting applications.

"That's... unusual," Marcus said aloud.

"Right? But here's the really strange part. The upstairs people came down and took us to a completely different section. I think it's magical, so they want us working there now." Tom's eyes gleamed with excitement. "They say workers in that section get better rations!"

Marcus nodded thoughtfully. Better rations would certainly explain Tom's improved physique. "That's great news, Tom. You deserve the extra food."

As Tom launched into more details about the mysterious ore, Marcus found his mind wandering. With his soap business starting to show real promise and his stress levels finally manageable, he was beginning to notice his surroundings more clearly. The change was troubling.

Walking through the Lower District to Aldric's shop, Marcus observed details he'd been too overwhelmed to process before. People were visibly thinner than when they'd first arrived, and persistent coughing could be heard echoing through the narrow streets. Some residents showed clear signs of illness. Hollow cheeks, labored breathing, and the telltale pallor of malnutrition.

"Someone needs to change this," Marcus thought as he passed a family huddled around a meager fire. "But it can't be me. If I get too noticeable, the established order will come after me. One knock from the wrong noble, and my life here is over. I need to figure out something that won't jeopardize me or my family."

The moral weight of his situation pressed down on him as he reached the shop. He had the knowledge to help these people, but using it too openly could destroy everything he'd built.

"Marcus!" Sara's voice pulled him from his brooding thoughts. She stood in the shop doorway with two teenagers, both around fifteen or sixteen years old. "These are my cousins, Jenna and Pip. They're helping us today with the finishing and distribution."

The cousins looked eager but nervous, clearly impressed by the organized chaos of the printing operation they'd stepped into.

Aldric appeared from the basement, carrying an armload of dried advertisement papers. His face was animated with the focused intensity Marcus had learned to recognize as his partner's "business mode."

"Perfect timing, everyone," Aldric announced. "I've got our plan worked out. We print advertisements all day. Tonight, the kids start distributing yesterday's dried prints in the high-end neighborhoods. Tomorrow morning, we open the shop doors. I've also found two people to distribute today's fresh prints in the market squares tomorrow."

Marcus stood up, suddenly struck by inspiration. He grabbed one of their finest soaps and, using his pocket knife, carefully shaved off a small corner. Then he took the soap fragment and pressed it firmly into the corner of one of the dried advertisements, leaving a small sample embedded in the paper.

"Kids, do this to every dried one before you distribute them," Marcus instructed, demonstrating the technique again.

Jenna looked puzzled. "Why are we sticking soap pieces to papers?"

"It's called sampling," Marcus explained, warming to the concept. "When people find these papers, they'll be able to smell and feel the quality of our soap immediately. They won't just read about it. They'll experience it. That makes them way more likely to seek us out."

Aldric's eyes widened with understanding. "So instead of just telling people our soap is superior, we're proving it to them?"

Sara picked up one of the prepared advertisements, sniffing the embedded soap sample. "It smells wonderful! Like flowers and cleanliness." She looked at Marcus with admiration. "You think of everything, don't you?"

As they worked through the day, preparing advertisements and attaching soap samples, Marcus found himself energized by the collaborative effort. Aldric calculated production numbers while Sara managed the drying process, and the cousins proved surprisingly efficient at the delicate task of embedding soap samples without damaging the papers.

"How much can we increase production for the next batch?" Marcus asked during a brief break. "And how many additional people will we need to hire?"

"If this batch sells as well as you predict," Aldric replied, consulting his notes, "we could potentially triple our production. But we'd need at least four more workers, plus additional space for curing the soaps."

"And more raw materials," Sara added. "The oil suppliers are already asking questions about our increased orders."

Marcus nodded, thinking about their growing supply chain needs. Until they could set up their own oil extraction operation, they'd remain dependent on outside suppliers. A vulnerability that made him uncomfortable.

"We'll need to think about that," Marcus said. "But they're good problems to have."

As evening approached and they prepared to send Jenna and Pip out with their carefully prepared advertisements, he felt satisfied about the day's work.

"Remember," he told the cousins as they gathered their bundles, "focus on the nicest houses in the upper districts. Those are the customers who can afford our prices and will appreciate our quality."

"And be careful," Sara added, clearly worried about her young relatives. "Don't let anyone catch you if they seem angry about the papers."

As the cousins disappeared into the evening darkness, their bags full of sample-enhanced advertisements, Marcus reflected on the day's progress. Tomorrow would reveal whether his advertising innovations would work as well in practice as they did in theory.

But even as he felt optimistic about the business, the memory of sick faces in the Lower District haunted him. Success in business was important, but it couldn't be his only goal. Somehow, he needed to find a way to help the broader community without putting his family at risk.

The challenge would be figuring out how to be a force for positive change while remaining invisible to those who might see him as a threat to the established order.