Belgast went down on one knee to examine a chair. “Terrible work this. You would think the king could afford something better.”
“If I recall, you didn’t like the building last time we were here,” said Athgar.
“Well, it wasn’t up to the quality of a Dwarven stronghold.”
Stanislav shook his head. “You’re too particular, my friend. Not all of us are obsessed with the principles of architecture.”
“It’s not only the architecture. Work like this displays a general lack of interest in producing quality.”
“Sometimes, it’s more about the price than the quality.”
The Dwarf looked as though someone had slapped him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Greta jumped into a chair.
“They’re quite comfortable to me,” she announced.
“Says the girl who used to sleep on the floor.”
“Come, come,” said Katrin. “That’s hardly her fault.”
“Sorry,” grumbled Belgast. “I shall refrain from further comment.”