König had been watching you, but clearly not closely enough. For every drink he watched or covered, you slipped two more under his notice, and by the time he made it back from the bathroom, it was clear it had been too many. You felt the beginnings of a migraine pulsating and were too hazy to notice as he took your newest drink and poured it out.

"Oh, schätzchen..." he muttered, dipping to lift you from the chair.

"Whadus that mean?" you groaned faintly.

"...Nothing. Let's get you home."