"What happened?" Osvald asked.
"No, nothing like that..." Irma shook her head and calmed down.
"Tell me. In that case, maybe we'll change our minds." Wain spoke slowly.
"Irma, you shouldn't. They already helped us by killing the Queen."
"No, I have to." Irma left the table and headed for the center of the room.
Wain, Osvald, and Franzi looked at her puzzled.
Irma ducked down, pushed the rug aside, and removed a special board from the floor. From the stash, she pulled out a large bottle of rum. Irma blew lightly, and a thick layer of dust fell off the bottle.
"Ohohoho, looks like we're in for some serious talk. I like that." Osvald smiled contentedly.
"What?! Irma, how do you know about this place?" Franzi was shocked.
"It's my personal supply." Irma replied coldly and set the bottle on the table.
"Franzi, bring more meat. I'm hungry again."