The Northveil pier lights flickered to life one by one as the Orion docked, and Rumina counted them from the ship's railing until she ran out of fingers.
Thirty-four. She had counted these lights two months before departing, back when she was drafting the oil budget, and the total had been twenty-eight. There were six new ones. Someone had added them without informing the treasurer.
"You're frowning," Roland noted beside her.
"I'm currently angry at six lamps," Rumina replied without turning her head.
Mooring lines were cast, the gangway was lowered, and at the end of the pier, standing beneath the brightest yellow lamp, was a stout man with a white beard and thick mustache. Duke Hektor offered a brief salute to Roland, nodded at Riven, then stared at Rumina for a long time, examining her from the top of her head to the tip of her bandages.
"You're skinny," he commented.
Rumina sighed. "We just met, and you're already commenting on my appearance?"
