She shook her head, unable to trust herself to speak in that moment. It had been an emotional night and she was exhausted. If she allowed herself to sit down for even a moment, she feared that she would fall asleep. Thorfinn picked up a bottle of fire whiskey to drink straight from the neck. When he offered it to her, she thought about refusing for only a half-second. What did it matter that it was only seven in the morning?