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“Ambassador.”
“Councillor,” Mel responds in greeting, turning her attention away from the fireworks bursting over the Pilt. From her high balcony, she has one of the best views in the city.
This one is more interesting, though. Has been much more interesting for quite some time.
“I see you come bearing gifts,” Mel adds as she spots the bottle in Sevika’s hand.
Sevika raises it as she nods. “Zaun’s finest.”
Mel arches a brow. She knows better than to underestimate the ingenuity and ability of Zaunites, though she hadn’t thought of distilling as one of their great strengths.
Sevika smiles wryly. “Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it, Ambassador.”
“Glasses, then,” Mel announces, going to the sideboard to collect two small cups, beautifully worked in coloured glass and brass.
“Zaunite,” Sevika says approvingly, cracking the wax seal on the bottle.
“What else would we drink it out of?”
Sevika snorts. “The bottle, usually,” she says. “Before.”
Before Sevika had made leaps and bounds in getting all manner of things for Zaun, from education to trade agreements.
“This is nicer than anything I’ve ever seen before,” she adds, pouring a measure of clear liquid into each of the cups. The fireworks outside paint Sevika in all manner of colours as they burst in the midnight sky outside, throwing the handsome lines of her face into stark contrast.
She hands a glass to Mel, and they touch the rims together. “To nicer things.”
The first mouthful burns so brightly it brings tears to Mel’s eyes, scraping along her throat and making her cough, despite having braced herself.
To her relief, Sevika also coughs and wrinkles her nose.
“Yeah,” she says. “That’s what I remember. Second sip isn’t nearly as bad.”
Mel laughs as she braves it, letting just a few drops spill past her lips and over her tongue. It burns again, sharp and bright, but this time it also warms her from the inside until her skin tingles all over.
“Oh,” she says, peering into her glass. “That’s...”
“Told you,” Sevika says. “Traditional in the dead of winter. Warms you right up.”
A third sip makes Mel shiver pleasantly, driving the cold completely from her bare skin and leaving her warm and light.
“Zaunites are nothing if not ingenious.”
Sevika huffs, a smirk playing around her lips as she finishes her glass, setting it aside.
“Thought you’d be in the centre of the festivities. Isn’t that what ambassadors are meant to do?”
Mel raises an eyebrow, knocking back the rest of her glass in one swallow and setting it next to Sevika’s, barely a hair’s breadth between the rims. “Surely a councillor is even more obliged.”
Sevika shrugs. “Zaunites traditionally celebrate next week,” she says. “I’ll be at that one. Don’t need to give the Pilties the wrong idea.”
“Am I invited to that one?”
This catches Sevika off-guard, surprise making her look ten years younger for a heartbeat. “If… you like?”
“I do like,” Mel says, taking the bottle and pouring again. She takes up both glasses, stepping closer to Sevika as she holds out the councillor’s in offering.
Their fingers brush as Sevika takes it, the same tingling she’d felt from the liquor travelling from the point of contact all the way up Mel’s arm and down to her core. Sevika’s breath hitches. She must have felt it, too.
Mel had so hoped she would.
She leans in, standing on tiptoes to whisper in Sevika’s ear.
“Since I’m inviting you to stay the night,” she says, brushing her lips over Sevika’s cheek.