Andrei smiled vaguely, shaking his head.

"Da, okei. We'll go."

He pushed himself up, somewhat carefully, and Ilarion came with him, sliding a shoulder under his, helping him amble to the door.

Lasha always held his liquor well, up and until that point of no return.

He wasn't there yet, thought Andrei, as Ilarion still indulged him physically, steering him.

Then again, he'd been so rapt at their conversation, his drink must have seemed an afterthought.

Lasha fixed him with warm, firm eyes, patting his cheek.

"Now, you're going to be able to get back to your barrack, Andrusha, da?"

"Da," said Andrei, with a grin, head pitching forward, swiping a clumsy kiss across his brother's set mouth. "We'll manage."

"Khorosho, bratan. I'll see you tomorrow."

Andrei released him, hands sliding down his lapels as he backed away. He swaggered only slightly.

Ilarion glanced at Irinarhov, obliquely.

"Nice seeing you again," he clipped out, perfunctory.