"You'd only use them for wine," Orion said. "This is cheaper."
"Lies," Magi said gravely, lifting his empty cup. "But I find myself… interested." He set it down, met Orion's eyes. "We'll build it."
Edgar glanced to the window, gauged the position of the sun out of habit. "We should drop the veil before attendants start imagining conspiracies."
Orion pressed the cube; the barrier withdrew with a whisper, returning the room's sound to its normal grain, the faint street noise, the floorboard creaks, the subtle clink of a bottleneck meeting wood as if the space itself exhaled.
"Good," Orion said, standing up. "Draft me a rough plan by tomorrow. We will go and look for some people before sunset tomorrow. And Magi… get some sleep in between the ledgers."
Magi saluted with his quill. "Aye, Boss. I'll dream of forms." He hesitated, then added with a wry smile, "And, ah—thanks for trusting me with the messy bit."
