"My Madam just arrived home and she does not feel well."
Arkai said as he returned to the cheerful chaos in the great hall. The gathered beastlords, mid-bite, mid-drink, mid-argument about the relative merits of various vintages, paused in unison.
"Since I know you are all going to spend the night anyway, meet her at dinner when she feels better." Arkai's tone brooked no argument. Not that any of them would have dared. "Now I am leaving to attend to her."
The beastlords looked at each other. This was a first.
In all the decades they had been ambushing Arkai Dawnoro with birthday celebrations, he had never once used an excuse that was not duty.
Border skirmishes. Emergency councils. Urgent messages from vassals that definitely existed and were definitely real, please stop asking questions.
The Black Wolf King's standard retreat from celebration was always wrapped in the professional language of obligation.
But this?
My Madam just arrived home and she does not feel well.
