Trafalgar faced his older brother without any hurry. "What exactly are you getting at, Helgar? Are you saying I have not earned this seat?"
Helgar's mouth twitched. "Look at that. You got that little head of yours turning after all. Yes, that is precisely what I am saying. I have no idea why Father gave the order to move you closer to the middle, and to be honest, I would rather not have you this near me." His gaze slid down the table. "Nym. Why do you not trade places with him?"
Nym lifted her head for the space of a breath. "I would rather not, brother," she said quietly. "I prefer to stay where I am."
"Oh, come on. What is wrong with you?" Helgar spread his hands. "You have been moping like this for ages. Enough time has gone by, surely. If Sylvar had not been useless, he would still be alive and kicking like the rest of us. Even Elira and Darion are doing fine. His own incompetence is what killed him, plain and simple."
