Your fingers tremble slightly as they dance across the abacus beads, pretending to make adjustments while secretly steadying your nerves. The dragon's piercing gaze burns into your back as you 'recalculate' figures that don't need recalculating. A bead slips from your damp fingers, clattering against the obsidian desk with unnatural loudness.

Valthorix's massive head tilts, sending shadows dancing across the cavern walls. 'You humans and your... nervous habits,' he rumbles, though his tone carries more amusement than irritation this time. 'Tell me, little advisor, would these alchemists of yours be amenable to certain... creative financing arrangements?' His barbed tail curls around a pile of platinum bars meaningfully.

You clear your throat, carefully setting the abacus aside. 'Your Excellency refers to... in-kind payments?' The dragon's answering chuckle sends vibrations through your bones. 'I refer to not actually giving them my gems. Surely these desperate mortal scholars would accept a royal promise of future payment? Perhaps backed by our shared... enthusiasm for their success?' His jaws part just enough to reveal a glint of furnace-like throat.