“What is this I hear of a gift?” he says when he reaches our group. He gently takes the delicate chalice from my hand. “Is this it?” he asks, pacing several feet away, his eyebrows raised. He brings the glass to his nose. “Lilac wine,” he says. Several people throughout the room gasp. He gives Mara an approving smile. “Cunning as ever, dear queen.” Ever so deliberately, he overturns the liquid, letting it spill onto the floor as he paces.
