Responding to the threat.

Wim smiled at him and made his body language more ridged like his father had his tutors beat into him.

“Spitting in the fire is a horrible superstition and unbecoming. I am sure you will make your report,” Wim said to Henrich in a serious tone.

“I am quite aware of the view on magic. I am aware that there will be questions to be answer. She may even be angry. That is not your concern now is it?” he continued.

“But when the war comes, and it is, remember that I am buying us time to prepare and I made this sacrifice for you and for them,” he continued in a more demanding tone.

He stood up and drew his knife. He made no overtly threatening move, just a very, very passive aggressive one, as he said, “Remember your place and to whom you speak, old man.”
He paused for a calculated moment and continued speaking, “The next time you or yours speak to me in that tone, I will make you pay for it as my lord father has taught me to do. Is that clear enough?”

He looked at the others to see if they were going to come to Henrich’s aid.

Wim had not really played the noble card for years and it felt good. It was a great divider between his type of people and them. He was ready to play courtly games with Sir Zane and the Duke, just like being at home with dear old Dad.

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