The sovereign's judgement had been made and the idea frightened Manguino and choked the room with a silence that removed hope of the existence of any breath.
Manguino turned back to his desk. The silence created a term of indecision in him that he had not experienced since before Smith Blue died.
As if against his will, Manguino found himself leafing through some papers on the corner of his desk, desperately trying to formulate a plan in his mind to rebuke Brook. Instead, however, he found himself writing and signing a retraction to the trade embargo. He stretched out his hand, holding the document in offering, to Brook.
"How do you mean this return of trade to take place? By the week, month or year?" asked Manguino, his tone sounding significantly defeated.
"By month. I suppose that this would be reasonable!" An expression of shock came over the ArchBishop. He whined like a child, then took control of himself and finally showed his anger.
"Reasonable? Treating them like our masters and that, you say, is reasonable?" he stopped for a moment and wondered if Brook was indeed sane, then laughed a little in a half-hearted manner.
Brook proceeded.
"Yes, I believe that a monthly caravan should suffice. They would prove more profitable to us as our friends than as our enemies."
"Why don't we send them goods every day? mocked Manguino.
"Careful, Manguino! You tempt the wrong feelings in my heart. Anyway, if Phoride could survive the strain, I would consider daily caravans. And now onto another annoyance." He looked at Manguino with contemptible eyes, intended as prejudgment on his brother. "I shall not tolerate any further words between the Cardinal Allen and my wife. If I learn that he speaks with her, or another other woman of my household, just once more, I will have him arrested and whipped until death." he turned to Manguino and sneered a grin suggesting a pleasurable thought. "I might even do it myself!"