Gerbold could sense the change in the wind, and he was the one who took action. Over the protests of Ara, the general smoothly took her hand and wove it over his arm, as was proper of a gentleman. There were courtesies to be observed, of course, but clearly his father had enough of being in the prince's company and watching his wife fail awkwardly to address the prince as was proper. Ulbarich grinned openly while Gerbold bowed and made his apologies. It was only when the door closed behind the departing couple that he turned his attention back to Ithacles.
The prince might be recovered, but the wear showed around the edges of his eyes.
The village had been burned, part by part, until there was little left of it. Most of those who died did so in the fighting. Those who had retreated to the bitch house survived unscathed. And yet it had taken an army detachment to make things right again. It had taken more than that to bring the villagers out of there alive. All of those marvelous dwarven enhancements were still beneath the soil, waiting for a chance once again to be seen and used by proper hands.
Ulbarich thought he should be more upset about it than he was.
The grin faded to a smile, but the light in his eyes had not dimmed. Whatever was in the box, it was most likely a soldier's gift, and that meant it was not appropriate for mothers.