The carriage came to a stop, and Halford once again assisted the family in disembarking. The inspector bowed formally to the baron and his wife before turning to Eloise with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Lady Eloise," he said, his voice carrying clearly to where Jaygon sat. "I trust the journey from the mansion wasn't too taxing?"
"Not at all, Inspector," Eloise replied with practiced politeness. "I find the sea air quite invigorating."
"Excellent. I hoped we might walk the shipyard together. Your father tells me you have quite an interest in naval architecture."
A flicker of genuine surprise crossed Eloise's face before she masked it with a polite smile. "My father is too kind. I confess my knowledge is limited, but I would be delighted to learn more."
The baron beamed at this exchange, while Lady Margarethe watched with calculating eyes. With formal pleasantries exchanged, the group proceeded through the shipyard gates, leaving Jaygon once again to wait with the horses.
From his elevated position on the driver's seat, Jaygon could observe the party as they moved among the partially constructed vessels. The inspector walked closely beside Eloise, occasionally leaning near to speak in her ear, while the baron and his wife followed at a respectful distance that allowed for the appearance of privacy while maintaining propriety.
The sun had begun its descent toward the western horizon, casting long shadows across the shipyard and bathing the bay in golden light. Ships returning to harbor unfurled their sails like great birds spreading their wings against the darkening sky, while the first lamps were being lit along the waterfront.
When the inspection tour concluded, the party returned to the carriage, the baron looking increasingly pleased with the day's progress. "Back to Harborside Mansion," he instructed. "We've been invited to dine with the inspector."
As Jaygon guided the horses back toward the mansion, he could hear snippets of conversation from within the carriage—the baron's booming voice discussing trade routes and tariffs, the inspector's measured responses, and the occasional soft comment from Eloise that Jaygon couldn't quite make out.
Upon arriving at the mansion, the baron leaned out of the carriage window. "Return to the manor, Thatch. Send Halford back with the smaller carriage at the tenth bell. We'll be dining late tonight."
"Yes, my lord," Jaygon replied, touching the brim of his hat respectfully.
As the family ascended the mansion steps, Eloise glanced back briefly, her eyes meeting Jaygon's for the second time that day. In that moment, he saw something in her expression—a question, perhaps, or a plea—before the inspector offered his arm, and she turned away to enter the mansion.
The journey back to Windcliff Manor was solitary and quiet, with only the rhythmic sound of hooves and the distant cry of gulls for company. As Jaygon guided the carriage up the winding cliff road, he watched the sun sink below the horizon, setting the ocean ablaze with crimson and gold. Ships became dark silhouettes against the fiery backdrop, their lanterns winking like earthbound stars.
At the manor, Jaygon delivered the baron's instructions to Halford, who nodded curtly before hurrying away to prepare the smaller carriage. With his official duties completed, Jaygon led the tired horses back to the stable, removing their harnesses with gentle hands and brushing down their sweat-dampened coats.
"You did well today," he murmured to the lead gray as he offered it a handful of oats. The horse nuzzled his palm gratefully, its large dark eyes reflecting the lantern light.
Night had fully descended by the time Jaygon finished his work in the stable. Removing the uncomfortable livery and changing back into his worn but familiar work clothes, he stepped outside into the cool evening air. The manor house glowed with lamplight, the servants busy preparing for their masters' return, but the stable yard was quiet and empty.
Jaygon gazed down at the twinkling lights of Blackwater Bay, at the dark mass of the ocean beyond, and at the stars emerging one by one in the night sky. Tomorrow would be the same as today—caring for horses, following orders, watching life unfold from the periphery. The baron would continue his negotiations with the inspector, Eloise would be guided toward a politically advantageous marriage, and Jaygon Thatch would remain what he had always been—a stable hand with soil under his fingernails and salt in his lungs, tethered to the earth while others determined the course of the tide.
With a deep breath of the night air, he turned back toward his small quarters adjacent to the stable. Inside, a single candle burned beside a worn copy of celestial charts—his one indulgence, purchased years ago from a traveling scholar. Jaygon traced the constellations with a calloused finger, finding comfort in their unchanging patterns in a world where everything else seemed in constant flux.
Outside, the harbor bells tolled, their sound carried on the wind to mark another day's end in Blackwater Bay—a day like any other for Jaygon Thatch, coachman and caretaker of horses, silent witness to the machinations of those born to command the heights while he remained forever in the valleys below.