He stood with one hand resting on the stone rail, the other wrapped around a glass of dark liquor. Arin leaned against the pillar nearby, his own drink untouched for once.
"So," Arin said at last, breaking the stretch of silence, "you're really not going after her?"
Alaric didn't answer right away. He swirled the drink slowly, watching the liquid climb the glass and slide back down. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat.
"There's no need."
Arin frowned. "No need?"
"She's not a child," Alaric said. "I don't need to go fetch her because she decided to sleep at her parents' house."
Arin scoffed softly. "That's what this is to you? Fetching?"
Alaric took a slow drink, then set the glass down with more force than necessary. "How long do you want this conversation to last, Arin?"
"As long as it takes," Arin shot back. "Because I'm watching the most terrifying general in the empire slowly tear apart the only thing that ever softened him."
