Alexander stood at the great oak table, keenly taken by the parchment in his hand. Beside him, Lord Michaelson was bent slightly forward, eyeing another parchment, while Lord Brimsbane stood to one side, a leather folio tucked beneath his arm.
The day had quickly hurried toward noon, but he had been cloistered in his study with his lords since the morning.
"…and I do not appreciate this reading as a supplication," he tapped off at a corner. "I do not request the lords' assent, I am informing them of what shall be done. Make that clear beyond dispute."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Michaelson replied, already making note on the parchment.
Alexander turned then, his gaze shifting to Brimsbane. "And the farmer?"
Brimsbane cleared his throat. "My lord, although the man wasted away a fair amount on wine and cards, he has somehow been able to pay back a grand amount of his debt. More than I thought possible."
