Darius's jaw tightened. He managed a bow from the chair.
"It will be done," he said, voice low.
"By when?"
"In a month's…"
"When?"
"In a week, my Lord."
"Good," Michael said. His smile returned, warm and bright, as if the last minutes had been a polite chat about the weather. "Then we are finished for today. Drink your tea before it thaws."
*
As Michael stepped out of the manor, the late morning air met him.
His boots clicked softly against the stone path.
Captain Rohan followed a few steps behind, still silent. Michael didn't speak either; there was no need. The message had already been carved into Darius's mind and he figured that by tomorrow morning, it would reach every noble within this region.
Michael soon reached his carriage.
As he settled into the carriage, Michael let his thoughts wander.
