Antonin had been pleased to overhear the conversation. He admitted much later that he wished he'd spoken up right then about the truth of his feelings for her. Instead, he gave her space, hoping that would help him capture her heart in the long run. All it did was ensure that he had to listen to the sounds of her drunkenly bringing home another random wizard. She couldn't remember who it was. Much of that time was a blur of alcohol, blood, and sex. Maybe it was Rabastan? Or perhaps Felix? She didn't think it was Thorfinn. It didn't really matter who the wizard was.