The rain that had plagued the salt flats for days finally turned into a heavy, blinding sleet by the time the evening ledger closed. It rattled against the leaded glass windows of the palace administrative wing like handfuls of gravel, a relentless, icy rhythm that matched the cold calculation humming inside the room.
Elara didn't look up from her workstation. She sat with a physical ledger propped open against two iron bookends, her fingers transferring line items into a newly bound leather register. The mechanical terminal on the wall was quiet for once, its gears resting after the frantic afternoon trading session, but the silence it left behind felt temporary, like the brief lull between waves in a storm.
