"Get lost!"
Leona Grant shoved him away forcefully, poured another drink, and downed it. He slammed the glass on the table, his face a mask of irritation. "Just go crawl into a corner and leave me alone, got it?"
Xylas Shepherd felt a headache coming on. He looked over at Nathaniel Locke. "Do you think he's lost his mind? He rarely drinks like this. What's gotten into him? He drank himself sick last time in Nordmark. If he keeps this up, something terrible is going to happen!"
"Who knows?" Nathaniel Locke leaned back on the sofa, gazing dispassionately into his glass with an air of utter indifference. "Just let him throw his fit."
Seeing that Nathaniel Locke had no intention of getting involved, Xylas Shepherd felt completely helpless.
'One's gone crazy, the other's an idiot. Am I really the only handsome, clever, and charming man left in the entire world?'
'No! The pressure is immense!'
