Lord Fashire chuckled and then broke into laughter. A bitter, joyless sound that filled the chamber.
Lady Dana glared at him, and her clasped hands tightened as if she was resisting an urge to reach across the table and smack him.
"I am not returning," he declared, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward. "You will have to find another puppet—"
Lady Dana's voice was firm and unwavering, "You have no choice. The boon century has been shifted to a closer date. I just returned from the Empire, and as it stands, you have only a few days before the next boon century begins."
The smile vanished from his face. He sat up, bothered.
The others looked disturbed, their full attention on the eldest.
Lord Fashire frowned. "Did something happen?"
