"Ha," Rath said. "Don't put any money on it. I'm sure you'll all be buying me conciliatory ales in a few more days."
"Well, you're still the winner for now so buy me an ale," Coor said with a grin.
Rath heaved a long, aggrieved sigh, but when a server came round, he gave her two pennies to keep the ale coming.
He'd just about finished his third ale when the table went quiet and half of them stared, then broke into smirks and goading grins. "Your suitor is back, Rath."
"I don't have a suitor," Rath said irritably. "What are you blathering?" he broke off as realization knocked him upside the head, and he twisted in his seat to see that, sure enough, Tress was walking toward them, that idiotic smile on his face. "What in the buggering Fates is he doing here?"
The others laughed, and Toph elbowed him in the ribs. "You're certainly the busy one these days. Winning the tournament and snaring a handsome lord to keep on the side."