Malachi accepted the glass with a grateful smile, albeit one that did not quite reach his too-dark eyes. Following after her with a carefully hidden hesitance, he waited until the woman had seated herself before he moved to sit at the other end.

“What makes you say that?” he inquired, and then lifted the glass to his lips. It tasted – oh, it tasted awful, but if Malachi did not like it, it did not show on his face.

“If you haven’t even… done it before, did something happen to smear your name?”