"You are not in the direct line of the Rhisiarts." "The Fish teahouses were founded by my great-grand aunt, yes." Ffion forces herself to stop clenching her pouch strap, and instead starts undoing the string holding the pouch on. "But the compact was signed by her mother. My great-great grandmother. She had a teahouse too. Well, a tea stall. Anyway, either I can cancel the compact, or it has never been applicable to the teahouses." She holds out the pouch with its precious documents. "I have the records here." "Are you a lawyer?" The head of the Bakers' Guild is smiling slightly. "No, a scribe. But I do a lot of work for the East Side Notaries." "Are you sure you want to go against the wishes of your family?" "They have decided we are not family, so I don't care," Ffion declares, but she can't maintain eye contact. She does care. Perhaps the Guild leader realises, because she takes the pouch and doesn't pursue that line of questioning any more.