“Would you care for an ale, Lady Lark?” “I’d love one. Thank you.” He sets the frosty mug in front of me, then hands one to Thorne as he sits and claims the last one for himself. Thorne nods his thanks, raising the glass to his lips and taking a measured drink. “Careful, it’s strong. Wouldn’t want you to find yourself in a compromising situation. Another one, anyway.”
