Alfie did not remind him that Gallienus was no longer in the position to invite anything.

Nor did he share Wilmer was no longer in the position to requisition staff to take anywhere.

But as True would likely not hesitate to demur, Alfie didn’t.

Thus, he asked, “Will you sail, or will you ride?”

“I see I will not be missed,” Wilmer sniffed.

“No, you won’t,” Alfie affirmed without hesitation.

“You will find, the longer this war lasts in Airen, and True is away fighting it, how onerous is the mantle of rule.”

The Airenzian war, if no ravens had gone astray that provided conflicting information, had now officially lasted all of four bloody days.

Alfie didn’t get into that either.

“On the contrary,” he replied blithely, “I find incarcerating those who caused harm and moving forward in bringing them to justice, righting a troubled treasury, and overseeing the expansion of the scope of our economy in an optimistic manner the likes of which this realm has not ever seen quite rewarding.”

“Yes, and you have the luxury of one day stepping down when all that goes to hell.”

“So did you,” Alfie reminded him, watching Wilmer’s body jerk. “Though, for my part, as my king’s counsellor, and after swearing an oath to protect my land that I intend to keep, regardless I am now crippled, I don’t intend to do that until I retire to a hearth and my books at a day when I am gray with age.”

“I tire of this conversation,” Wilmer decreed.

“This is good, for so do I.”

After giving Alfie a long, hard look, Wilmer whipped his head around before his body in a manner that made Alfie nearly burst with laughter, before he flounced out much like Bronagh had done.

The door again slammed.

And Alfie put Wilmer out of his mind, and doing so, Bronagh entered it.

A carriage ride.

What was that woman thinking?

Alfie then had to force Bronagh from his mind (a much more difficult endeavor), and he did so as he picked up his sticks, hefted himself out of his chair and moved to the fire.

Carefully, he balanced on one stick as he quickly fed fuel to the irons.

He then maneuvered himself to the chair by the fire and settled in, equally pleased with himself he got where he was without a tumble, just as he was frustrated that was something he considered a victory.

He picked up the reports True had commissioned on how the counties and groups of charmed folk were reacting to the idea of a parliament. Files he’d abandoned when Tor and Apollo had arrived after he’d called for them when Mikaelsson came to make his report.

He was in the depths of reading them when another knock came at the door.