He obliged, filling the shiny stemware and giving it back to me. I took another long drink, although this one was more to avoid talking about what happened last night. That Tyrrik saw me as a screaming, blubbering, contorting mess deeply embarrassed me. I was inordinately grateful that he had been here. He’d said I’d need help, and as I thought of the hourly baths he’d given me in the pool of nectar and the words of encouragement through the night, I no longer doubted this fact.
