Rolfe hurriedly sorted out the rest of the matters of the day so he could freshen up and make his way to the dining table. He was at the dining table several minutes early, but he didn't mind it. He had been given grace that he never expected, that he didn't quite think he deserved.
He had taken to praying to the Saint and Martyr Kalla after Silvan left for Vallyn; he didn't quite know what he was praying for, he just wanted his son to live well. Now it didn't matter if his prayers had been answered or not, he was content enough that Silvan looked well. He didn't just look well, he had adapted to Vampires and their relationship was no longer unsalvageable.
Rolfe sat patiently at the head of the dining table, a gentle smile on his face, one that soured slightly. Letters from Vallyn had arrived this evening, and they also included a response from King Vatore. The Vampire King had told him that it was no doubt a Wraith on the run from Vampires trying to kill it.
