With a knock at the door, the guards announce the entrance of Marshal Slade to the Baron’s chambers, despite the late hour. The guards within the guest room escort the Marshal to the table Yorick is already seated at.
Slade pushed his read cloak aside, and takes a seat opposite, then proceeds to stare at the center of the table, avoiding Yorick’s direct gaze.
“Slade, it’s late. Is there something you wanted? If the table is more interesting, you can take it.”
“I’m not here about the damned table, I’m here about you. You have a duty that you are neglecting, and it hurts all of us”
“What? I am as committed to the Barony as anyone, and have better things to do…”
“Dammit, Yorick, you need a wife. It’s how these things are done. I don’t care which one you pick, but pick you must. An heir would give stability to the entire realm, and eliminate the succession question. Surely one of your new “friends” meets your high standards."
“if you stay unmarried, people will talk, and you raise the possibility of bastard children and a succession fight. You’re about to see how much fun that can be. Ask yourself if you want your children treated like Markoa.”
cannot just stomp in here and run my life. Things are far more complicated…”
“No. Things are simple Yorick, you just don’t like it. I’ve said my piece, so good night”