“So it’s… a punishment?”
“More like a consequence.”
“That’s cruel and unnecessary.”
Alaric’s mouth tugged sideways, half amusement, half pity.
I press my fingers to my temples, “How long does it last?”
“Depends,” he said. “Hours. Maybe a day.”
“A day?” I gasped. “Why would anyone do this to themselves intentionally?”
“They don’t drink half a bottle,” he said dryly. “Most start with a sip.”
“I was thirsty!” I snapped defensively. “I was drying out—I was desperate.”
He crossed his arms, muscles shifting beneath his coat in a way that was rude, frankly, given my current condition.
“So you decided to hydrate with the strongest rum in my cabin. Mygoodrum.”
“You didn’t tell me human drinks were dangerous,” I said.
I grimaced, because he had technically warned me. Many times. About many things. Usually, things I ignored.
“You’re fluent in every spoken tongue on land and sea.” His tone dropped into that dangerously patient register he used when I’d done something particularly foolish. “And you didn’t read the label?”
Heat flushed my cheeks. “I read it.”
“And?”
“I thought it was a bit dramatic.”
“The label saysBlack Marrow Spiced Death.”
He moved closer. The kind of close that made my skin buzz with something that wasn’t entirely the consequence of the rum.
“You had no idea what would happen?” he asked, softer now.
“How could I? We don’t have anything likethatin Thalassia”
“Nerina, it said ‘Three swallows may cause temporary blindness.’”
I flinched. “…I thought that was a joke.”
The ship swayed. Or maybe I did. Hard to tell. Strong hands caught my waist, steadying me.
“Sit down before you fall,” he murmured.
The words weren’t gruff. They weren’t mocking. They wrapped around me like warm hands.
Which was its own problem, because his actual hands were still on my waist.
“I’m fine,” I lied, wobbling immediately.
His grip tightened just enough to steady me, fingers spreading as though bracing for impact.
“Right,” he said, voice brushing my skin.
