Soren opened his mouth to explain, Kaelor's training, his collapse, the time needed to wash, but something in Ayren's expression stopped him. Excuses would only make things worse.
"Yes, my lord," he said instead, his voice steadier than he'd expected. "I apologize."
Ayren's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes, not approval, exactly, but perhaps acknowledgment that Soren had chosen the correct response.
Without further comment, he reached for a parchment to his right and slid it across the desk's polished surface. "Come. Sit."
Soren approached the desk, each step requiring conscious effort as his abused body protested the continued demand for movement. He lowered himself into the chair opposite Ayren, careful to keep his back straight despite the screaming pain in his ribs.
