An autumn rain the night before had soaked the dirt road at Newborn Town's entrance, freshly stripped of stone, into a soft, sticky mire.
Veylin stood beside the road, his expression calm. In his plain linen robe, he looked little different from the commoners craning their necks behind him.
Caroline stood at his side, a few flecks of mud spattered across the hem of her dark green dress.
The young woman furrowed her pretty brows. "Keeping a lady waiting this long. What an ill-mannered bunch."
She ground an irritating little pebble beneath the tip of her dainty shoe, venting her impatience.
At the edge of the horizon, a line of dark shapes slowly emerged.
The shadows drew closer, and dull hoofbeats shattered the marsh's morning stillness, swelling into a rolling thunder as they approached.
Eight carriages bearing the emblems of the various harbors slowly rolled toward them, but the one in the lead belonged to none of the parties Veylin and Caroline had expected.
It was an ornate, pitch-black carriage, its door bearing an emblem embroidered in gold thread-a three-masted merchant ship sailing over waves, flanked by two symmetrical sprays of wheat.
"The Bunge Trading Company?!" Caroline's pupils contracted slightly. "What are they doing here?"
The convoy came to a halt, and a servant opened the foremost carriage's door from outside.
A middle-aged man stepped out. He was thin, with a carefully trimmed mustache and a monocle, and his well-tailored silk clothes were spotless.
A servant had already laid a small carpet at his feet. Standing on it, he surveyed everything in Newborn Town with a critical eye-the plain buildings, the muddy streets, and the persistent damp, earthy smell in the air.
Veylin had seen that look countless times in his previous life. It was the way city elites regarded