Today's OneWord: Wealth

I was still deciding whom to allocate my wealth to once I died when the butler, Timothy, staggered in. It was clear from the smell that he was rather drunk; he had probably dipped one or two many times into the leftover punch from the party the previous night. As he swayed, I could see his eyes practically sliding around in their sockets, like crystal balls rolling out a foreboding future.

"Ma'am," he slurred, before nearly pitching forward, but then righting himself, "your rel...your rela...your uncle and aunt is here."