"Glad we could come to an understanding," she muttered before making her way over to Jacques. He lifted his head and asked her something, to which she replied with a cuff over the ear and a yelp of protest from the stallion. Crimson turned away and watched the mages do their work, occasionally eyeing the strange, iron-bound contraption that took up most of the space in the room. It was like a cart made with stone slates, like everything else in this city, held together by simple iron bindings, hiding the treasures beneath.