Rain caught the carriage halfway down from Broken Pass and turned the square outside Ironwood Gate into churned brown soup. Through the window, Hajin watched a guard shove an old woman off the clinic steps while her grandchild kept coughing.
"Whoa, whoa, stop before that canopy!" He banged the frame until Toby leaned out and relayed the order to the royal driver.
"Somebody nailed a damn notice on that door, and I want to read it before I punch it."
The clinic's entrance hung chained shut beside the queue, its posted charge glaring at the soaked families outside.
"Property of Lord Garrow, emergency treatment fifty silver crowns, no charity," Elise read from the nearer window, "what a charming way to inform a fever that it needs references first."
"Fifty silver to cough indoors?" Juna's ears pinned flat as the child's wet cough carried through the rain, "I'd bite him for free."
