Masina finished crushing the herbs before she responded to Mohini's outburst. When she did, her tone was mild. The stare she put into Mohini was not. Razor sharp edges gilded Mohini in the trap of Masina's gaze.<br/><br/>Like an item spoken from a list.<strong>"You rose your voice."</strong><br/><br/>Masina's wineskin is tipped to half-fill the mortar.<strong>"Now you will not speak, even a whisper, until the sun has set." </strong><br/><br/>The drugged wine is delivered to Mohini's lips. Masina's fingers grip her jaw like a vice.<strong>"Once the sun has set, you may speak in soft tones."</strong><br/><br/>The vice of Masina's grip tilts Mohini's head back slightly. The mortar is placed on her lower lip.<br/><br/><strong>"Never again will you raise your voice."</strong>The fingers squeeze, pushing Mohini's lips into plumpness.<br/><br/><strong>"Tell me you agree with your silence while you drink."</strong>The bowl is tilted up.<strong>"You drink until this bowl is empty."</strong><br/><br/>