"You two have the day off."
I say to Veric and Rhayne.
Veric stares at me as if I've just announced I intend to donate all the guild's money to a temple of drunken monks.
"Excuse me?"
"Day off," I repeat, tucking the guild registration papers into my inventory. "Do whatever you want. I'm in a good mood today."
Rhayne narrows her eyes.
"That worries me more than it should."
"Excellent instinct."
Veric points at her, as if he's finally found someone reasonable in the world.
"See? Even she gets it. Dryden Sands in a good mood sounds like the opening of a political tragedy."
Oliver lets out a thick laugh beside me but doesn't join the argument. His head is already in the warehouse, probably running through space, structure, cost, and every practical ache that comes with turning an idea into a real operation.
"I'll go with Oliver to see the factory," I continue. "You two handle personal things. Any problem, call on the communicator."
