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Léof watched the debacle between Saeryn and Scyrr unfold in astonishment. Had Saeryn truly just physically and publicly assaulted Scyrr? And had Scyrr really just publicly denounced Eodwine? And now no one was getting punished, or even reprimanded, for it?
Well did Léof recall the early days of Athanar's reign and the harsh punishments meted out to the original members of the household who had spoken out. He had liked Erbrand and Lithor, far better than he liked these riders who had taken their places.
But then, Léof supposed that was the difference between Athanar and Eodwine. Eodwine was far quicker to let things pass, to give people chances. He had given Léof himself a chance, and so Léof could not find it in himself to inwardly judge the man he still thought of as his lord, no matter how much he would like to see Scyrr punished.
His eyes drifted from Eodwine to Saeryn, now seated beside her husband. Had she gone well and truly mad? He suddenly recalled her flight from the stable this morning, driven from his mind by all the events that had happened since. “It's the baby,” Léof said aloud to the table. “Saeryn has not been acting herself all day long. She really oughtn't be making decisions in her state.”
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