A new structure by the north road had been completed. It's nothing fancy but definitely functional.
The First Storehouse at Greystone Pass stood side by side with the waystation.
Tristan stood at the doorway with a ledger in one hand, Mira at his side. Shannon leaned against a post nearby, arms folded, watching the wagons arrive one by one.
The new clerk stood ready and eager to assist his very first customer.
"First storehouse trial," Mira muttered, adjusting the chalk tucked behind her ear. "I give it half a day before something goes wrong."
Tristan shot her a look. "Have a little faith."
"I do," she replied with a grin. "Just not in merchants."
The wagons rolled into the yard, each stacked high with goods—grain sacks, salted meat, bolts of cloth, and barrels of dried apples. The traders dismounted quickly, shouting for space.
"Lord Mendez," one called, a bearded man with a thick accent. "You said the storehouse was ready. Can we trust it?"
