"Not bad, I guess," Julius muttered. Norton added, his voice low and suspicious, "We'll have to keep an eye on him."

Quentin staggered to his feet, a crooked grin on his face. "Alright, come on, you and me—let's spar a bit." Silas, eyes widening in surprise, stood up too. "Wait, you mean a fight?"

"I need to know you can protect Callie," Quentin said, his tone suddenly serious, considering how much he'd had to drink.

"Fine, bring it on," Silas replied, rolling his shoulders.

Before Calliope could intervene, the two tromped onto the lawn and were brawling like college football players after too many beers. Calliope and Dahlia rushed out to watch, joined by Julius and Norton, who immediately began cheering for Quentin as if it were the Super Bowl. Eventually, it became apparent that no one was rooting for Silas, leading to an argument between Julius and Norton about whose side they should support.

"Your brothers are a riot," Uriah said, standing beside Calliope.

"They're just drunk," Calliope replied with a frown.

"Still, Quentin's impressive. Even intoxicated, he's steady on his feet. And Silas is holding his own; I've never seen anyone match him before," Uriah mused.

Calliope watched, biting her lip, clearly worried. The fight intensified, punches landing harder, eyes narrowing. It was clear someone could get seriously hurt. Seeing the escalation, and realizing no one else would intervene, Calliope rushed toward them.

"Watch out!" Uriah tried to grab her arm, but she was too quick. "They're both wild right now; you'll get hurt!"

Calliope ignored him, diving into the fray. After a few wild moves, Silas and Quentin, caught in the adrenaline, turned their attention to this unexpected challenger. With a few slick moves, Calliope pinned both men, leaving them gasping for breath.

"That's it, fight's over. It's a tie!" she declared, glaring at them. "I'm Callie. You're not allowed to hit me!"

The fight ended abruptly. The two bruisers looked sheepish. Calliope called for Dahlia and others to help get the boys inside. Silas and Quentin, even more intoxicated, stumbled and slurred, barely able to keep their eyes open. Calliope managed to separate them into different rooms to prevent further brawling.

Finally, peace and quiet. Calliope let out a sigh of relief. Uriah stared at her in awe. "You're seriously impressive."

"You flatter me," Calliope replied, glancing at him. Noticing Mavis was absent, she asked, "Hey Uriah, you got a minute to talk?"

"About what?" Uriah replied warily.

"Mavis," Calliope said, fixing him with a look. "Don't try to dodge this. I'm not going to eat you alive, and I'm not forcing you into anything. Just a chat, okay?"

Uriah hesitated, then nodded. They stepped outside, leaving the noise behind.

"Do you really have zero feelings for Mavis?" Calliope asked quietly. "You know, giving someone hope and then taking it away—that's a cruel thing to do."

"I know," Uriah replied, his voice low. "That's why I didn't want to give her any hope in the first place. That's actually why I called off the Christmas dinner at the last minute."