Jolthar found Milan on a low sofa at the edge of the courtyard, a half-empty jug of wine resting between his knees.
The young man drank steadily, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Though there was a look of sadness in his eyes, his posture was relaxed, as if he were trying to escape from his troubles through the bottom of the jug.
Jolthar approached quietly, not wanting to disturb Milan's moment of solitude.
A short distance away, Andrion lay sprawled across two mattresses, fully gone to the drink, one arm flung over a sleeping woman while another curled against his side, both ladies equally unconscious.
Jolthar dropped onto the sofa beside Milan and reached for the jug.
"You looked like you'd seen a ghost earlier," he said, pouring himself a cup.
"Or maybe just a duchess with her skirts around her waist."
Milan's face went red again. He muttered something into his wine.
Jolthar laughed under his breath.
