"....She wanted to torture me to death, and I need to be man about it?" Heru asked, skeptical as he fell onto the couch with a slump. As for the food, he just nodded. There wasn't much point in saying anything one way or the other. Not at the moment.

"Thank you," he mumbled, though, as he took the scotch and lifted it to his lips. With luck, the alcohol would dull the pain. If he drank enough of it.

"I hope you don't plan to have guest."