Instead, he climbed to his feet, and he saw her tense. He’d made her jumpy around him again. Wasn’t that what he’d wanted?
He crossed the room to a dusty old cabinet in the corner, but her voice stopped him. “Are we done, then?”
He turned back. There was no sign of that softness in her eyes he’d seen only minutes ago. Instead, there was a burning indignation that was all too familiar. She was angry with him, but she wasn’t leaving either. Her desire for knowledge superseded her wounded pride.
Yet another thing he begrudgingly respected about her.
“No,” he replied. “Unless you want to be.”
She glared at him and said nothing. But she didn’t leave, which he supposed was answer enough.
Turning back to the cabinet, he opened the door and swept the cobwebs and dust aside, taking out a crystal decanter full of amber liquid. There were several cups too, but they were so covered in grime, it would take considerable scrubbing to make them usable.
He returned to Suyin and sat again beside her, holding out the bottle. A peace offering of sorts, though he would never admit it.
Her eyes narrowed, but she took it, grimacing at the filth on the outside. “What is this?”
“Alcohol.”
She frowned. “Why are you giving me alcohol?”
“To drink.” At her deepening look of confusion, he admitted, “You were frightened. And I suppose I feel somewhat … remorseful for being the cause of it. This will settle your nerves.”
She ground her teeth. “You feelsomewhatremorseful for using your creepy dead ghost army to scare the shit out of me. What a touching apology.”
He turned away. Admitting to remorse was as far as he was willing to go. Really, she was lucky he’d given her that much.
She sighed like she knew it too. “You’re an asshole. Why I’m even bothering with you is a goddamn mystery.”
It was Murmur’s turn to grind his teeth. It seemed she hadn’t learned her lesson after being frightened by his “ghost army,” after all. He was starting to think she never would. And he wasn’t sure he wanted her to.
“Why does this bottle look like it came from a mummy’s crypt?” she asked.
He glanced back. She was turning the grimy decanter over in her hands, studying it closely.
“That cabinet was here long before I arrived,” he explained. “I don’t think Paimon consumed alcohol often. It’s likely been here for a century or so.”
She uncorked the top and sniffed it. “Are you sure it’s not poison?”
“These were Paimon’s private chambers before they were mine. She wouldn’t have kept poison here. But I’ll take the first sip, if you’d rather.”
“I like to live dangerously,” Suyin said with a shrug, and then she took a swig.
And coughed.
“F-fuck,” she wheezed. “That’s strong as hell.” She took another sip and coughed again. And then she held the bottle out to him.
He shook his head.
“Come on. Live a little.”
“I prefer not to consume mind-altering substances. My mind is altered enough already.”
He’d never understood humanity’s fixation with alcohol. They voluntarily drank poison and enjoyed the way their brains slowly shut down. It was absurd.
“Just one sip,” Suyin pressed. “You scared the piss out of me for no reason. You owe me.”
He glared at her. And then he snatched the bottle out of her hand and took a sizable gulp. And coughed several times. “That’s awful.”
