As evening loomed, the boat passed through the Karlan city gates and arrived at the river port. The seaport was situated in a spot a short distance away from the city, out of a desire to put some distance between them and the accumulation of mud and silt from the river. And so only smaller river-faring boats were docked here.
The rumors alone that tariffs might fall had the tax-collecting soldiers carrying out their job in a perfunctory manner, and the town was filled with a cheery air.
Though they had most certainly not found themselves at an enormous port city, all of the buildings facing the river were grand in all four of their stories, and farther down the river they could see a church bell tower, one that also acted as a lighthouse.
Beyond that lay an azure sea, where the dark of night was steadily seeping in and changing its colors toward the horizon; only a faint flare of the sunset remained on the line between sky and sea. The sky was cloudless. One could stand upon the cliffs, squint, and faintly see the lights of Winfiel on the other side.
“Let’s go get our room at the inn that Meyer told us about and then go check out the taverns. How about it?”
Lawrence stepped onto the dock first and held out his hand for Holo to take. She staggered a bit, the sea still in her legs, and then gave a bit of a mumbled reply. Lawrence said no more after that, either, and made his way to the inn following the directions he had been given.
The inn that served as their destination was empty enough that Lawrence did not even need to give Meyer’s name. Every place in town was normally crowded at this time of year, considering all sorts of products were being sold off in the pre-winter rush, including freshly harvested wheat, so it was clear that talks about tariffs were having a considerable effect. The innkeeper was obviously troubled by the approaching winter—his inn should be busy.
As Lawrence listened to the innkeeper complain about his hopes that the tariff talks would end soon, he recalled all of the things Matthias told him. The seasons changed even in lands across the sea, so the Twilight Cardinal, and by extension, Eve, wanted to wrap up this deal with Karlan before winter came.
Under normal circumstances, he would consider this regular trade sense, but he could not shake the impression that this was their way of wanting to put a bow on the transaction before their schemes were revealed.
That Eve herself had personally come to the relatively unknown port town of Karlan strengthened his doubts that she was causing problems in places Col was unaware of.
According to what Matthias heard in their meeting, Eve was staying in Karlan, whose access to the sea was just as convenient, instead of Kerube due to a long-standing grudge, even though she had business in the mainland regarding the incident with the Church.
Lawrence, of course, was wholly aware of this grudge. There had been a historic kerfuffle surrounding the legendary sea creature, the narwhal. And though he logically did not want to deny the possibility, this was still Eve.
When his interests conflicted with hers, he could trust nothing but her attachment to profit.
“People sure do change, huh?” Lawrence remarked as they walked around Karlan under the darkening sky. “I hear she holds huge banquets at the tavern every night.”
Holo could keep up with anyone when it came to drinks, but Eve could rent out an entire establishment for her parties, which meant a lot of drinks. All the bards and dancers would gather in one place, and the best chefs in town would come to the tavern for work.
Eve, who had once chased profit and profit alone like an icicle honed by a blade, had been a bad person once upon a time, yes. But she was, at the same time, the ideal merchant in Lawrence’s mind.
Which meant the swirl of emotions in his chest likely stemmed from disappointment.
They had even come to blows once at the Lenos inn, which had acted as her storehouse, over an allotment of furs and smuggling of rock salts.
What had she said back then?
Lawrence had asked her what exactly it was that inspired her passion to pursue coin so single-mindedly—how had she responded?
It seemed the ultimate end of her road had been a disappointing one.
“I think the tavern the innkeeper mentioned was around here…”
They came to a crossroads of two major flagstone streets and Lawrence’s gaze wandered.
Holo tugged at his sleeve. “I hear music.”
She was not interested in the grilled meats being served at the open-air stalls; her hood was pulled so low over her eyes, he could not see her expression.
Lawrence pictured what might be going on in her mind, swallowed, then headed in the direction she pointed.
There, they found the tavern, patrons overflowing into the street; sounds of music and clapping came from the inside. The smoke of cooking fires stung their eyes, and there came the distinct smell of meat and fish fat and expensive spices.
Lawrence’s stomach grumbled in response to the onslaught of aromas; he steeled his stomach before walking in.
They dodged the ring of dancing men outside the tavern, slipped past the drunkards blocking the entrance, and were shocked by the sight of the sheer amount of people forming a circle before them. In the center of the circle, bards played music, and there were girls singing at the top of their lungs. But the patrons within the tavern did not even spare them a glance.