Eric returned to the hall, holding several glasses of amber liquid on a beautifully carved wooden tray.
“Thank you, Lord Croft. Please, have a seat.”
The man placed the tray on the table between them. Hans noticed that they’d poured a glass for Sepp as well. He was beginning to get an idea of just how this barony was run. Still, the shining Ace’s Mark at Lord Croft’s throat reminded him of why he was here.
Baroness Mooncreek and Lord Croft took their glasses from the tray, and he and Sepp took theirs in turn.
“To the Marshal,” Mooncreek raised her glass.
“The Marshal,” the men at the table echoed, clinking their glasses together before taking a sip of the fiery liquid.
Hans set his glass to the table, looking over at his hosts’ impassive faces. This pair was definitely not going to be winning prizes for charm anytime soon.
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