He refused to accompany you at first, but he eventually gave in. You see, he was aware of your alcohol tolerance. Why, Kaveh had to call him one time because you got drunk on only three shots.

He came with you to the tavern, his eyes heavily guarding you. One guy tried to spike your drink, but he was quick to catch him. He didn't want to trouble you, nor ruin your night, so all he gave the man was a glare—it was enough, after all, as the feared General Mahamatra of the Akademiya.

But eventually, you lost track of how much liquor you've downed. Now, he has to deal with a drunk version of you— one he's familiar to, but never accustomed. He sighed, “Guess I'll have to do this again.” He remarked, facepalming at the sight of you sprawled on a table, half asleep.