The weather in the Grey Marsh Territory gradually warmed. The thick sea fog dissipated, revealing a long-unseen azure sky.
The wind from Sharp Teeth Gorge was no longer bone-chilling, now carrying a hint of spring warmth.
Velin stood on the top-floor terrace of the Lord's Mansion, overlooking the fledgling port city.
A few months ago, this place was nothing but sheer cliffs. Now, the upper three levels were nearly complete, and the main framework for the lower two would be finished within two months.
Rock excavated by the Worker Ants was dumped into the sea, forming a wide breakwater that extended outward to enclose a larger harbor. Countless artisans and laborers swarmed the construction site like ants, their shouts and the clang of hammers weaving together into an overture for a growing city.
Footsteps sounded from behind. Caroline approached, draping a cloak over his shoulders.
The cloak retained her warmth and scent.
