“Of course it’s you, who did you think I should appoint? Surely that went without saying! The duty must be yours.” Cazaril sat down heavily in his late barber chair, still not releasing his clutch on Betriz’s hand. “Right now?” he said faintly. Her chin came up. “No, no, of course not! Tonight we feast. Tomorrow will do.”
Iesse appoints Caz as Chancellor
"Today?"
"You can start tomorrow"
