Rolph laughed.

“I think that answers the question about your nephews or young nieces rather succinctly. Tor, what say you as to the rest?”

As the Count fought his way to his feet, looking angry and like he was going to try and attack someone, Tor grinned and spoke quickly.

“Well… I can offer two thousand units next month, or… given the delicate nature of the location, I may be able to sacrifice some sleep and get things done faster, but I can't promise anything right now. I have a trip to Afrak coming soon as one of my obligations… It predates the war, but is an important project to them. So important that I've been named the Ambassador even. That won't stop me from working totally, but will slow things down. Is that all right?”

The man stopped, fists clenched, glaring at the boy in brown who still aimed the force lance his way, looking more than a little scared. Tor got that. A sitting Count could have a commoner put to death for an attack like that, even if it was hilarious. Actually, the most likely occurrence for such a thing would be death. Counts could be touchy like that. It helped right now that everyone else was pretending that it didn't matter though. That it wasn’t a matter of honor or pride as much as happenstance. Suddenly, unexpectedly, the older man snorted a sound that wasn't amused but didn't seem overly angry either.

“I apologize if my offer gave offense sir, none was intended.” He bowed to the boy, just a bit, and smiled tightly, then turned to Tor slightly. “Of course sooner is better, but since no one in the world could be expected to deliver such devices in four times that, I guess I can't complain too much, can I? Thank you. Again, forgive me for any… disruption to your day. I've been a little stressed as you might imagine. The Wards aren't exactly friends of mine right now. It's a shame really, we've always gotten along well enough in the past. I really don't know what Marvin is thinking. Declaring war… Preposterous.”