Wrong Anchor Harbor's futures market had always been where the financial pulse of the Grey Sea-and even the southern Duchy-throbbed most violently.
There was none of the elegance of aristocratic salons here, only the most primal greed. On the enormous blackboards hanging on the walls, commodity prices arriving from across the continent were hastily updated in chalk. Every erasure and new entry brought cheers or curses erupting from the crowd.
Today, the market's focus was the Ocean Shipping Contracts for the next three months.
"Another ten percent! The Blackstone Hand Merchant Guild is buying every Ocean Shipping Contract for next quarter's routes to Jade Bay! We'll take everything you have!"
The Blackstone Hand Merchant Guild's agent, a man with a meticulously trimmed beard, stood flushed with excitement in the trading floor's most conspicuous spot, surrounded by allies. He held his hand high like a triumphant general, his voice brimming with excitement.
The Golden Sail Merchant Guild's ships were out of commission, but the market's demand for freight would not disappear. As long as they monopolized all future shipping capacity, they could drive freight rates sky-high. Not only would they rake in a fortune, they would also cut off any chance of the Golden Sail Merchant Guild making a comeback.
This was an overt scheme, and a financial game only the great merchant guilds could afford to play-it required a stake in Gold Suns equal to the weight of their ambition.
"They're insane! That price is already fifty percent above the normal market rate!"
"High? Once Golden Sail falls, they'll be the only ones calling the shots. Believe me, they could double the price again then!"
"What good is just shouting out prices?" A burly figure pushed through the crowd. The scar running from his forehead to his chin made his lone eye look especially vicious. It was Sea Wolf, the most unruly captain in the Golden Sail Merchant Guild.
He leaped onto a table and roared down at them, "Blackstone Hand, you want my ship? Fine! But I'm not one of those idiots who value their ships more than their lives! I've got dozens of brothers to feed! If I pledge my ship's capacity to you, you have to guarantee us cargo! Sign a Guaranteed Cargo Contract! If there's no freight and we're left airing our balls on the docks, you pay us ninety percent of the full-load freight rate! Have you got the guts?!"
His words silenced the entire trading floor. Those terms were ruthless, dumping practically all the risk onto Blackstone Hand.
Blackstone Hand's agent froze for a moment, then burst into exaggerated laughter. Pointing at Sea Wolf, he called out to everyone around him, "Look! Now here's a clever man! He isn't worried about our sincerity. He's worried we'll have too much cargo and his ship won't be big enough! Hahahaha!"
He tore off a blank contract in front of everyone. "No problem! I'll offer you another twenty percent! My only concern is whether your ship is sturdy enough not to sink under the weight of our gold!"
Once there was a first, there was a second, then a third... Captains whose ships had once flown Golden Sail's flag broke with their former employer as though they had arranged it beforehand, lining up to sign those ship-chartering agreements with Blackstone Hand at outrageously inflated rates.
No one noticed the cloaked figure taking it all in from the market's darkest corner. Veylin watched the frenzied merchants as though observing a pack of laboratory animals rushing toward bait.
Compared with complicated alchemical formulas, greed and fear really are the most efficient catalysts. All it takes is a little bait, and they'll gorge themselves to death.
Caroline's move is exquisite. This isn't really bait at all. It's a way to make them convince themselves, to make them pay the highest possible price to forge themselves the most magnificent shackles.
The atmosphere in the council hall of the Golden Sail Merchant Guild Headquarters was grave.
This had once been the place where Caroline displayed her power and wealth. The frescoes on the vaulted ceiling depicted the epic tale of the Golden Sail Fleet conquering storms, while the armrests of the twelve oak chairs were each carved with the emblem of a rival merchant guild she had defeated.
Today, however, it was filled with her creditors.
Representatives from the kingdom's major banks, financiers who provided loans secured against ships, and more than a dozen suppliers with longstanding ties to the Golden Sail Merchant Guild.
Behind each of them stood an impassive notary holding a thick stack of contracts.
Rain beat against the stained-glass windows. Outside, the sky was as dark as though the end of the world had come.
The hall's doors were pushed open.
Caroline Channing walked in.
Today she wore a dark green gown, tailored so closely that it fully accentuated her tall, powerful figure. Its slit reached her thigh, offering glimpses of snowy skin as she walked.
Her long, silver-white hair had been swept into an elegant bun, exposing her graceful neck and her signature sapphire studs.
Without looking at anyone, she walked straight toward the guildmaster's chair at the far end of the hall. Her steps were steady, the click of her high heels against the marble floor the only sound echoing through the silence.
She was like a lioness surrounded by hyenas. Even covered in wounds, she still retained a queen's dignity.
The first to rise was Duncan, the Royal Capital Bank's representative. He sounded deeply troubled as he spoke. "Caroline, my child, your father and I were very good friends. But... the board has issued its final ultimatum. Personally, I... truly have no power to help. The Golden Sail Merchant Guild's assets have fallen below the collateral threshold. The board demands immediate repayment of all loans, or compulsory auction proceedings will begin."
"The same goes for us!"
"We must be repaid immediately!"
Voices chimed in one after another.
Just then, the hall's doors were pushed open again.
The Blackstone Hand Merchant Guild's vice guildmaster, a short, stout man named Bach, walked in with more than a dozen merchant guild representatives, assuming the air of a savior.
"Everyone, why be so anxious?" Bach's voice rang out. He surveyed the room before his gaze finally settled on Caroline, undisguised lust in his eyes. "The glory of the Golden Sail Merchant Guild should not end in such disgrace. We, Blackstone Hand, along with all our allies present here, are willing to extend a helping hand."
He took a few steps forward and tossed a document in front of Caroline.
"This is an Acquisition Proposal. We will purchase all shipyards, warehouses, and route rights belonging to the Golden Sail Merchant Guild at forty percent of market value. In return, of course, we will assume all of the Golden Sail Merchant Guild's debts."
He paused, his sleazy gaze traveling up and down the gown that outlined Caroline's curves. "Lady Caroline, look at you. Why put yourself through so much hardship? The sea is a man's battlefield. Fighting, killing, scheming against others-such rough work is hardly suitable for a delicate beauty like you."
"Listen to me. Hand over the guild, and I guarantee you'll have the most comfortable room in my castle. Every day, all you'll need to consider is which dress to wear and which ball to attend. That's the life you should be living, isn't it?"
Caroline showed no reaction. Her head remained lowered, her long lashes casting shadows across her face.
Everyone in the hall, including "Uncle Duncan," thought she was about to break down. Some even wore expressions of malicious delight.
In the silence, Caroline let out a faint, almost inaudible scoff.
Only then did she slowly raise her head, that smile on her face.
It was the smile of someone watching a stupid pig step straight into a trap while thinking itself clever.
She said nothing, merely extending a slender finger and tapping rhythmically on the acquisition document Bach had tossed before her.
Tap, tap, tap... As though she were ringing the dinner bell for the feast about to begin.