"Duke, I have delivered the gift."
The Knight previously seen now knelt before Dane, removing his helmet, flattering and ingratiatingly spoke to Dane.
In front of him, the vast hall, though daylight, was darkly lit, forcing candles to be kindled.
At the long table, only the Duke and Duchess were seated, with a dozen servants lined up, holding towels, water glasses, handkerchiefs, and wine pitchers.
Not far away, a songstress gently plucked a harp, serenading the two.
"How is Bishop Buerwelf?"
"Still confined there, well-guarded, unharmed, not even bruised, just mentally not well."
"Being confined all this time, anyone's mood would foul." Bamanda swallowed a piece of steak, rinsed his mouth with grape wine, then said, "Friscia, you did well on this trip, come, have a drink."
A servant immediately handed over a wine pitcher and poured a cup for Friscia, who drank it all in one go.
