It took at least five hours before the King was finally drunk.
And not just slightly drunk either. It was the kind that crept in slowly, cup after cup, until it stopped being something you could hide. His movements had gotten looser over time, his posture less controlled, and whatever restraint he had at the beginning had long since disappeared somewhere between the drinks.
"You know…" he started, his voice dragging just a bit as he spoke, "I kinda hate your guts."
He let that sit there for a second, like he wanted it to land properly.
"But I have to admit, you're a strong person," he continued, exhaling through his nose. "I've never seen a man like you before. Someone who can fight the way you do… it's ridiculous. Even I doubt I could land a hit on you."
He gave a small, bitter laugh after that, like he didn't enjoy admitting it.
