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“No-”
“I just woke up in some guy’s yard and shamed myself in front of the whole town. I’m sure you’ll hear about that.”
Sira’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t drink anymore. I should have taken away the bottles to begin with.”
“If I want to fucking drink, I will.”
She stiffened. “No, you won’t. I won’t let you.”
“Who’s the fucking lord?”
“Oh, now you’re ready to be the lord. I’ll throw out the whiskey and the wine. I won’t let you drink yourself to death.”
He headed for the stairs. “Elira forbid I shame myself again, right?”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
He held onto the railing as he looked at her. “I know why you brought me here. You didn’t give a shit about saving some poor slave. Maybe you cared about Lord Mather a bit. I’m sure you did if he was a kind lord and you spent so long working for him, but overall, you just wanted to stay here, keep your wages, and not worry about leaving or finding new work.”
Her eyes widened. “How dare you!”
“Don’t be ashamed,” he said as he started making his way up the stairs again. “At least you’re not selling your asshole on the street like I used to.”
He ignored whatever else she said as he went to his room, locked the door, and grabbed a whiskey bottle from a cupboard over the sideboard.
He needed to not feel ever again. He’d never live down what he’d done. Everyone in Cardinal’s Brook would remember this for the next century. They’d always bring up “that time the lord woke up drunk in some guy’s yard and bawled his eyes out in the dirt.” He couldn’t be what Sira and Lan or anyone expected.
The whiskey blurred it as he drank, but he knew it would come back just like everything else did. If that was the case, he’d drink again and make it go away. If he couldn’t dream of the old Oriel, he didn’t want to dream or feel anything.
The last thing he remembered was the smell of puke.
“He’s not dead. I think he puked up most of it, so he’ll probably be fine, but the charcoal will help.”
Some sort of nasty fluid was forced into Aspen's mouth, and he panicked, but someone held him down as he choked. The sailors wouldn’t let him die like he’d wanted. They’d keep forcing water and broth into him so they could continue fucking him as they pleased.
“Just drink it,” came Lan’s voice as his mouth was forced open again.
The liquid made him choke. He couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t they just let him go? Maybe because Elira didn’t want him either. Even the forgiving Goddess was so disgusted with him, she wouldn’t take him. Where was Oriel? Why wouldn’t he save him?
The next time he became aware, he was in bed. The sheets were clean and so were his sleep clothes. Sira sat in a rocking chair with a face like stone.
“Welcome back to the living,” she snapped.
Oh, great.
“Lan had to bust in here because it had been hours, you weren’t responding, and I was terrified you’d done something to yourself. We found you in a puddle of your own puke. You kept drinking even with a hangover?”
He didn’t feel good now, but it wasn’t quite as bad as he’d expect after such a bender. Who knew how much time had passed?
Sira threw aside her knitting. “We had to call a physician, and she said you probably puked most of it up, but some charcoal and a couple of things would help. Lan had to hold you down because you panicked. I’ve spent hours dribbling water in your mouth to keep you hydrated. I also had to change the sheets because you spewed the charcoal water all over.”
The look she gave him made him feel smaller and shittier than ever while he tried to get a grip on his muddled thoughts. “I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice.
Even if they’d used him in some way, they didn’t deserve this. They shouldn’t be running around after some shell of a man who couldn’t take care of himself.
“We’re going,” she said. “I’m done, and so is Lan. He can tell you can’t stand to be around him, and he’s done nothing to you.”
It was only because he was so big. Hecouldhold Aspen down and hurt him. He opened his mouth while trying to think of how to articulate that.
