It’s called clear rum. It stands to reason that it is clear. Unless it’s another misleading fakeout like White Zinfandel.
Well, you are a little curious exactly how much alcohol she can take before she starts shagging the nearest solid, but it would be rather disrespectful to actually test this. You’ll just keep a careful watch to make sure she doesn’t accidentally chug your drink.
“Katia just immigrated to Cyrodiil a few days ago,” you explain to Millona. “She’s planning on training as a mage as soon as she can afford it. For the time being, she runs errands for me in exchange for lodging.”
Millona nods softly, her eyes still on Katia. “Fair enough. You certainly make the most… interesting friends, Quill-Weave. I do hope you’ve found my town to be accommodating, Miss Managan.”
“It.. it is very well-kept and I’ve already made some friends at the chapel and Mages Guild.” You can tell Katia is struggling to maintain eye contact. She seems to be coping okay though, and forcing herself to speak slower. “It’s a lot different from back home, b-but I’m adjusting okay so far I think.”
“I see. I’ve never been to Elsweyr myself, but I have heard it is much less civilized,” Millona replies.
“I’m from Hammerfell, actually.”
“Hey! Hammerfell represent! I haven’t been back there in years though. You from the coast?”
“Sort of I guess, maybe. My father was actually a steward for one of the nobles. But when I was pretty young, um…”
She hesitates, glancing around and fiddling with her silverware in an attempt to look natural. Millona is still watching her. “I guess I started having some night terrors that made it hard for me to live in the castle, I guess, so we bought a farm and moved inland.”
Katia seems to be getting a little tense on this topic. You think you hear her humming a song to herself? That is so stupid and also sad.
You’re pretty sure she just piqued everyone’s curiosity, though, and Millona is about to push this topic further. It might be time to intervene.