The [b]clerk[/b]’s expression pinched at [b]Elora[/b]’s words, then curdled further when [b]Hwicce[/b] invited the voice forward like a tavern entertainer. For a moment, he looked less like a company man and more like someone who had just watched a lit match drift toward spilled oil.

From the inner hall came the sharp strike of shoes on polished floor.

The woman who appeared was dressed in dark plum silk beneath a tailored riding coat, with silver at her throat and a ledger tucked under one arm like a weapon she had learned to use long ago. She was not armed in any obvious way. She did not need to be. The clerks straightened when they saw her. The guards became still.

[b]Piero[/b]’s smile cooled.

[color=00a651]“Madam Velora Cask,”[/color] he said. [color=00a651]“Brass Lantern’s managing director. How unfortunate.”[/color]

[color=0054a6]“Mr. Lanza,”[/color] she replied, eyes sliding over him with surgical disinterest. [color=0054a6]“I was about to say the same.”[/color]

Gears leaned toward Marcus, voice low. [color=f26522]“That means they hate each other politely.”[/color]

[b]Madam Cask[/b]’s attention settled on Elora next, then the faceplate. [color=0054a6]“Carriage fourteen is company property. If it was found damaged, Brass Lantern appreciates its return. If you are here on behalf of Don Calabrese, then I assume this is not about scratches in brass.”[/color]

The clerk looked as though he wanted to disappear into his own collar.

[b]Cask[/b] noticed. [color=0054a6]“Mr. Orven has answered enough in public.”[/color]

Her gaze moved to [b]Hwicce[/b]’s smile, lingered just long enough to acknowledge the danger behind it, then returned to the group as a whole.

[color=0054a6]“You may ask [u]three more questions[/u] before I decide this conversation requires attorneys, invoices, or men with less patience than mine.”[/color]

[b]Piero[/b]’s jaw tightened.

[b]Gears[/b] grinned.

[color=f26522]“Three questions,”[/color] she murmured. [color=f26522]“How generous. I was hoping for three teeth.”[/color]