The deep night swallowed every last trace of the day's clamor.
Garis Bunge paced his guest room, the creaking floorboards grating on his nerves.
Three days. That country baron and Caroline had actually spent three whole days playing in the mud with a bunch of penniless lords.
They weren't playing by the rules...
The sense that things were slipping out of his control grew stronger.
He stopped pacing, his brow tightly furrowed.
His deputy, Damon, stood respectfully to one side, barely daring to breathe.
"Has anything unusual happened lately?"
"My lord, we've already checked."
"There's no word of Sea-Salt Potatoes in any of the major grain markets in the southern Duchy. Apart from occasionally spending time with those penniless lords, Miss Channing hasn't privately contacted anyone from the Seven Harbors Alliance over the past three days."
Garris said nothing. He merely walked to the window and looked toward the dark courtyard deep within the Lord's Manor.
What exactly was Caroline Channing, that Silver-Haired Witch, doing?
This quiet inaction irritated him more than fierce resistance would have.
"Sweeten the offer." Garris spoke softly, but Damon looked up in surprise.
"Make those wavering hyenas understand that sticking with us will get them bigger bones. If necessary, we can give them another share of the shipping profits."
"Yes... my lord."
"One more thing." Garris lowered his voice further. "Keep the information contained. I don't want any rumors about a 'high-yield crop' reaching the company's headquarters before the negotiations end. Sew shut any mouth that talks out of turn."
Damon's heart tightened, and he nodded emphatically. "Understood, my lord."
Only then did Garis feel the frustration in his chest ease a little.
He opened the window and let the chilly night breeze blow in. A full moon hung high in the night sky, bathing