Workers ripped moth-eaten drapes off the reception hall rails while Hajin scowled at the manor plans beside the ladders.
Marrick trailed after him with three proposals stacked on the renovation account, and the cavalry deadline ticked behind every page. Hajin stepped around a broom and stopped at the ballroom drawing, where the biggest number sat beneath the receiving area.
Marrick unrolled the proposal and held its lower edge clear of the swept dirt.
"Imported mantels, chandeliers and a private banquet pavilion," he explained, tapping the proposed guest tables, "twenty guests in the first suite, with the main ballroom restored separately."
Hajin jabbed a finger beneath the totals instead of the furniture drawn above them, "Right, and how much for all the fancy rooms where nobody's running from a horse?"
Marrick checked the account column before setting his quill between the two estimates.
