The Court of Common Pleas in Crown-Reach was a cavernous hall of white Portland stone, lined with towering fluted pilasters and lit by three huge crystal chandeliers that burned hundreds of pounds of bleached spermaceti wax. everyone could feel the scent of lavender water, dried lavender pomanders. The sour humidity of three hundred corporate attorneys packed into the oak galleries in their black horsehair wigs and beaver-lined gowns.
At the high bench beneath the gold-trimmed royal coat of arms sat Chief Magistrate Lord Julian Vane—cousin to Grand Master Vane of the Adventurers’ Guild—a man of sixty-five with hooded, sleepy eyes, a double chin resting upon a lace jabot. The unrushed peace of a judge who had spent forty years resolving commercial disputes in favor of the highest bidder.
“The court has reviewed the petition of the High Judge,” Lord Vane drawled. He waved a plump, jewel-ringed hand over a stack of documents. “The motion for an Emergency Injunction of Restraint against the Silver Weft Banking House is entirely irregular. The Silver Weft is a chartered corporate depository under the Royal Act of Settlement of Year 694. An audit of its underlying collateral can’t be demanded by itinerant carriers running under a country court trial warrant. The petition is dismissed for lack of town standing.”
