ABSALOM, Ascendent Court, Cayden’s Hall
Boots up on the table, Juliette d’Aubigniy regarded her cup with a mix of amusement and irritation. The amusement was due to having seen one member of the group she shared the table with try to take a drink from the cup, only to have the metheglin within push him over the edge from drunk to unconscious; the irritation was because he’d dropped it and spilled it over the table. It had been a bit expensive to get it, in both money and personal services, and she wasn’t looking forwards to the cost that Tauglithgin would ask for more.