Narcissa had been able to read her husband like a book since the very day they met, and Lucius's uncharacteristic perspiration was not lost on her. Their conversation was far from intensive, and surely, while the upcoming battle brought stress, it was not enough to make her very capable husband sweat in his seat.
"Darling, is there more?" she asked, sitting up straight in her chair. Her instinct was to reach out and touch his apparently troubled brow, but she could not. "Something seems a spot wrong."
Her spine became so rigid with concern that it almost caused her pain. Always the logic-minded, she continued, "Do pardon my prying, but would it truly be beneficial to strike so when your own are ill? I understand it is strategically wise to leap upon injured prey, but in these situations, the predator is customarily not limping himself."