A knock sounds on the door.
“Enter,” Theon commands.
A guard pokes his head in. “My lord, there is a ruckus in the square.”
“Why am I being interrupted during this important private meeting for something that happens every market day?”
The guard wavers, suddenly unsure of his choice. Theon isn’t known to be this dismissive, but much weighs on his shoulders. “My lord, you wanted to know about any new claims of poisoning.”
Suddenly, Theon’s apathy is gone. “Is it valid?”
The guard scratches his chin. “That’s the thing. We’re not sure.”