"Do we only have this much alcohol? Are you joking? Send someone to the market, now!"
Marielle was basically standing in the middle of the Great Hall like a hurricane in a silk corset, pointing dramatically at a group of terrified pages like she was about to declare war on them personally.
"And for the love of the Old Gods, not deer! We've had venison for three weeks. I want wild boar!"
Cherion leaned his shoulder against the cold stonework of a nearby archway, watching the chaos unfold with a detached sort of fascination. His head felt like it was stuffed with damp cotton, but he still managed a lazy, crooked half-smile at Marielle going full battlefield general over the party.
The castle had basically been cracked open like a bottle of something strong. The death anniversary of Zarius's parents had passed a few days ago, leaving behind this weird, heavy silence that everyone had been tiptoeing around like it might explode.
