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... nts ago.
He glanced at the offending goblet, then at Branna, who was adjusting a platter of honeyed figs. Clearing his throat, he spoke.
"Branna, could you find me something… softer to drink, to ease the sting of the liquor? Milk, perhaps?"
Branna paused, her wild orange hair bouncing as she turned, her amber eyes blinking in thought. She rubbed her chin, her freckled face scrunching slightly.
"Milk, my lord? Hmm, let me think… I reckon I could take a look around ...
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