"Commercial crisis?"
Sherlock sat opposite Nicholas, his hand on his knees as he frowned and repeated what Nicholas had said.
"Yes, Lord Sherlock. We encountered the first commercial crisis!"
Nicholas crossed his arms on the table. His brows were tightly knit, and he looked haggard, as though he hadn't slept for many days. He wasn't even interested in the cup of bloody chrysanthemum tea placed before him.
That was abnormal. Nobody could possibly dislike bloody chrysanthemum tea, with the exception of Lilo. Sherlock had the impression that the Fallen Angel preferred green tea.
Beast preferred drowsy red tea? No, he wasn't a creature.
"I didn't believe that taking over Winterfell would be a simple affair, but I didn't expect it to be this complicated."
Nicholas took out a document from his drawer, then passed the document to Sherlock.
