"I'll save them for after the bath." He's still kneading the back of his neck, not quite meeting Cullen's eye. "Or the...dumping a barrel of rainwater on myself. Quicker that way. I won't fall asleep."

The broth doesn't look as appetizing as it did a moment ago. Alistair forces himself to take another swallow of it anyway. The warmth helps ease more of the constriction in his throat.