"What can I get you to drink?" Remo inquired, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.
Abby glanced at him, hesitating, "I actually don't consume alcohol."
A faint smile formed on Remo's lips, "Is it that you've never tried it, or you choose not to drink? There's a difference. Without tasting, it's hard to pass judgment."
His words puzzled Abby, who responded with a frown, "I suppose I've never given it a try."
Remo motioned to a servant, murmuring a few words.
Shortly, the servant reappeared with a tray, likely holding alcohol.
"Come on, take a sip. It's our wedding night, after all," he encouraged.
Abby stared at the drink for a moment, then cautiously took a sip through the straw. The alcohol's warmth eased her nerves as it settled in her belly.
