The path to the top of the hill was longer than it seemed. With each turn, the sound of hammering echoed louder, and the smell of molten iron mingled with the salt of the sea rising from the docks. Samira and Bellatrix walked in silence, their steps rhythmic on the damp cobblestones. When they finally reached the gates of the Veil Company, they were greeted by attentive guards—two men in simple but well-maintained armor, who watched their every move with eagle eyes.
"Business?" asked one of the guards, the taller one, with a scar on his chin and the Company's emblem embroidered on his chest.
Bellatrix held his gaze steadily. "We want to speak with Erik Haldar."
The other guard, younger, tilted his head suspiciously. "The master doesn't receive visitors without an appointment. If you're here on business, speak with the steward."
Samira stepped forward impatiently. "We didn't come to sell fish, darling. It's a matter directly with him."
