Lark slowed down the moment he flanked the stagecoach, rolling down the window before politely knocking on that of the Viscount.
"Lark, where did you get that thing?" Envy and surprise made Drath forget the basics of etiquette, but the Count didn't mind.
Seeing one of his most annoying political foes turn green was more than enough compensation. The stagecoach was just painted in gold whereas to DoLorean was made of silver, something that no dissipated noble would miss.
"Just a present from one of my old protégés. Do you remember Archmage Verhen?" Lark casually nodded at the passenger seat. He was keeping the two vehicles at the same height so that the Viscount could see inside.
Seeing the deep blue robe was already a huge blow to Drath's ego, but comparing his cramped stagecoach with the spacious interns of the car almost gave him a stroke.
