His intent was strong.
Mikael made his position clear. He would not be pressured into surrendering what belonged to House Wolfram. Fenric could accept the terms as they stood – or walk through the door he still held open.
And of course, he was protecting land that was not his to give away.
For several moments, the study fell completely silent, save for the quiet breathing of those gathered within.
Fenric remained silent; his fingers rested against the arm of his seat. He thought for a long moment.
He had met nobles who spoke firmly because they wished to appear firm. But this was different.
There was no strain in Mikael's voice. No hesitation hidden beneath his words. He had not raised his voice, nor had he attempted to intimidate him.
He had simply drawn a line.
A line much like the one the Lord of House Wolfram – the Marquess himself – would have drawn.
And Fenric understood lines.
'A merchant who fails to recognize one finds himself negotiating with an empty purse.'
