Rolan does not need to look up to know who's addressing him, and his scowl grows ever deeper at the familiar voice now plaguing his ears.

"Anthem..." he drawls, swiveling around in his chair and holding his arms out as if to embrace her. "Of all the witches to come be the cherry on my very fine cake. Where the bloody blazes have you been? I've not seen you since Elturel."

"And no," he adds, taking a very large drink from his Fool's Eclipse and grimacing reflexively at the taste. Guh, vinegar. "I'm drinking. Present tense."

So there.