Edwin was still talking, while the wheels rolled over the rough flagstone road.
As they entered the inner city, the mud splattered on earlier when entering the city—mud that carried the sickly sweetness of the market and the smell of livestock—was all flung off.
The humid heat in the air had not diminished in the slightest, but that earlier scent made of spices, sweat, and the crack of whips gradually subsided.
Turning off the noisy main road near the spice trading station, the carriage drove into a quieter, more desolate side street.
They called it a side street, but in fact it was the road leading to the Moonlight Palace.
On both sides of the road stood two rows of tall coconut trees; they cast long shadows, yet could not cover up the stifling heat near the ground.
That cloying, omnipresent sweet and rotten odor seemed to be replaced by another smell.
