"Still no word?"
Fiona Hawthorne asked impatiently, glaring at the soldier before her.
The soldier bowed lower, "No, General."
Hearing the same answer again, Fiona waved him off irritably. She had been here seven days already, waiting for the court's order to advance into Redwater Town. Yet nothing had come.
Finally, they had caught wind that Lucille Everard, that demoness of Ravenwell, might be in poor health. If Fiona struck now, her odds of victory were high.
Another person lifted the tent flap and entered. Seeing Fiona's furrowed brow, she approached and began massaging Fiona's shoulders. "With your prestige, General, why fret?"
Fiona sighed, "Delays breed changes. I feel uneasy."