A few days had passed, and the courier from Wessex arrived at the Titan Defense Perimeter just as Ragnar was overseeing the final calibration of the pressure plates for the "Welcome Mat." Ragnar instantly read the letter signed by Prince Aethelwold, and a cold, predatory grin spread across his face.
When Gyda, his heavily pregnant Prime Minister, saw the look on his face, she knew nothing good for the southern markets could come from it.
However, she would not be doing her job as his Chief Financial Officer if she did not inquire about the variables; as such, she quickly asked about what had made the Director express such amusement.
"What is the variance?"
Ragnar patted Gyda on the hand as he walked over to where he left his mug of imported coffee and took a large gulp of the bitter liquid.
"Nothing much, that fanatical middle-manager Aethelwold has just proclaimed that as Regent he is nullifying the trade agreement which his father, the CEO of Wessex, signed with us."
