Marcus wanted to forget Cora, who had just... He didn't know what happened. Grumbling into his empty tankard, he reached into his pocket for the last of his coin and then decided he would have to find a new line of work if he wanted to have a roof over his head. He waved a serving girl down and ordered another pint. Already three sheets to the wind, he was content in wallowing in his own self-pity for the moment. He should not have fallen for the whore, he should have left her be and never found love in the arms of a lady of the night. He felt extremely stupid for it, but she had been so sweet and pliant. Ahh well.

He quaffed more ale as it came to him, and then he heard the heavily accented voice asking about him with his formal title. "Yes, what of it?" he asked gruffly with slurred words, not looking up at the face of the one who interrupted his pity-party.