The war room beneath the southern ducal manor smelled of burned tallow and stale wine as dawn filtered through the slit windows.
A brass battle marker clattered across the map table, sent spinning by the patriarch's furious fist.
"Forty wagons!"
The gathered officers flinched in the shadows, none of them daring to meet the old duke's bloodshot gaze.
"Forty wagons bearing the serpent crest rolled straight past our border bastions without losing a single iron rim!" the patriarch roared, glaring down the length of the table. "Our trade embargo looks like a children's game while southern coin flows directly into that bastard's pockets!"
"We could not fire on them, Father," the ducal heir replied cautiously, stepping forward with an ivory pointer in hand.
"Why not?!"
"She is Lady Seliza of House Redwyrm, Father."
The heir tapped the boundary parchment with his pointer, outlining the catastrophic financial bleed threatening their noble house.
