"Mm," she takes up her drink, another mouthful and deeper than the one before it - she should be watching herself, she does not have the full effects of the blackwater to clear her head, but she thinks they both might need this as she takes one mouthful and then another. But she was told that drinking was a country wide habit, so - "She is a good match for you. She knows her own mind well."

Her lips press together on the aftertaste of the mead on her mouth. "She has not told me, how did your arrangement come about?" She assumes it was arranged because that is how it was for her and no one said different to her about how it worked, so she carries on. "I cannot say most end up so well matched to their wives." Or many men that would be overjoyed with having such a headstrong wife, but she keeps that thought to herself. She had heard the English mutter to themselves that would never dream of allowing their wife half of what Gangadhar had allowed his new bride.