Tyrion lifts the glass up to inspect the contents a bit more, and he seems to be a little hesitant to take a sip. "I'm not sure if this so called drink will burn me from the inside out if I garner to take a sip." A drink that looks like wildfire should not be sold for human consumption.

He sighs and he puts the glass aside on the table besides him, and Tyrion fixes his red silks up. "Normally I would agree, but I'm up to my neck in trying to keep the fine people of Mareen from butchering not just themselves. And if setting Her Grace's fleet of ships afire was any indication, I can swear that they seek to butcher everyone who is currently running the city." The loss of the fleet in Slaver's Bay is still a sore point from the sound of his voice.

"If it was all just that simple, and I'm terribly sorry for asking question that is almost impossible to answer."