Ryke clears his throat like he’s trying to swallow an insult. “Excuse me,” he coughs into his hand. “I’m going to get something to drink. Dais, you can take my chair.” He rises, and Daisy walks towards his open seat. “Thanks,” she whispers. He nods stiffly, and she slumps down onto the chair. “Make it a double,” I call out to him.
