"I seem to smell guilt—"
Voldemort flared his slit-like nostrils to their fullest and sniffed the air.
"Why is that?"
The Death Eaters seated along both sides of the long table lowered their heads one by one, as though attending a memorial service.
"Who can give Voldemort a reason?"
Voldemort asked softly, his scarlet gaze roaming over both sides of the table before finally settling on a gray-haired figure drenched in sweat.
A faintly mocking smile tugged at his lips.
"My dear Lucius, perhaps your wisdom can enlighten Voldemort?"
Lucius sprang to his feet. Avoiding Voldemort's gaze, his lips trembled.
His first attempt at speaking failed.
Lucius's voice was terribly hoarse. He suppressed a cough and cleared his throat.
"Master."
Lucius panted.
"I think... perhaps it is because of Breen—"
He stole a glance at the Dark Lord. Seeing no sign that he was about to fly into a rage, Lucius continued in a trembling voice.
"Bones is merely a puppet. The Ministry of Magic is opposing us under Breen's command. He isn't as weak as Dumbledore. We... we—"
"Are afraid to fight him, is that it?"
The amused smile on Voldemort's lips was not directed solely at Lucius, but at many around the table.
"Oh, perhaps I should put it another way. Voldemort's Death Eaters are afraid to oppose Breen. You fear that Breen will come up with new ways to strip you of your wealth."
Voldemort's airy words caused a commotion.
Quite a few people straightened their backs and loudly assured Voldemort that everything they possessed belonged to the supreme Dark Lord, and that they were willing to give everything for him at any time.
Of course, quite a few others shifted uneasily in their seats, their voices far less confident as they defended themselves.
"How disappointing—"
Voldemort's