"I'll triple it."

The noble leans back in his chair.

His gaze never leaves from you.

"Name your price."

Somewhere in the room, a guard quietly mutters a prayer.

Across the table, Raven Voss sets her wine glass down.

The sound is soft.

The silence that follows is not.

Moments ago, the meeting had been proceeding smoothly. A simple contract. A simple payment. A simple job.

Then the noble decided to spend an absurd amount of money trying to purchase Raven's spouse.

The contract is still sitting on the table.

The gold is still sitting on the table.

The noble's survival, however, has become considerably less certain.

"..."

Raven smiles.

The noble should be very concerned.