Annan slowly woke in the orange glow of dusk.
The figure behind the desk looked up, her long golden hair tinged with amber. "Want to sleep a little longer?"
"How long was I asleep...?"
Annan looked at the broken clouds outside the window. Still groggy, he couldn't tell whether it was morning or evening.
"Not quite three hours."
Following Olmedo's gesture, Annan glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. She said, "I was just about to report the Ratfolk attack to the Royal Capital. I took the liberty of asking for your reward in Gold Coins."
Annan lounged on the sofa, his drowsiness gone. "How many?"
"A chestful, I expect."
About a thousand Gold Coins. But a troubling thought made Annan wary. "Are Gold Coins the most valuable currency?"
"What do you mean?"
"Copper Coins, Silver Coins, Gold Coins—is there anything above them? Crystal Coins, gemstone coins, or some other currency worth more?"
Annan didn't want the money he'd worked so hard for to turn into a pile of cheap metal overnight...
"No. The Gold Narl is the most valuable currency, certified by the Goddess of Wealth." Olmedo watched Annan throw off the blanket. "You can rest another two hours."
"I want to check on Martin... How has he been?"
The young City Lord sighed, a rare occurrence. "I haven't visited him in a while. The servants say he's the same as ever."
That was one of Martin's good qualities: he never caused trouble.
"I'm going to bring him back."
"That's good."
After asking Olmedo to recruit five hundred Displaced People, Annan said goodbye to her as she returned to her work and headed out. Near the exit of the City Lord's Mansion, he ran into Michael, who had come looking for him. He also met an ardent fan.