Truth... be told, Soryk was a little more than surprised to even hear an apology. She didn't know he was behind her illness, but he did. She didn't know all kinds of things about him and while she was an engima wrapped in infinite mystery herself, he really had it coming. And if it hadn't been Zelda, chances were he would have been absolutely furious.

Livid, even. He could just picture his reaction to Atê doing something of the same. And he was the one to ask for her hand. And he still just vaguely tolerated her inappropriate behaviour. Such as... throwing up. (But never of anything save too much ale.) Hardly. Zelda was a lot easier for him to handle, in retrospect.

"It—" And he didn't know what to say. So once she righted herself somewhat, he carefully reached down to unlace his boots to the best of his ability without getting his hands caught in anything that he wanted to avoid. "Not that I have ever given much faith to Divine Providence, but it is entirely possible that I deserved that."

Fully possible, he corrected himself with an inner venom.

Removing his other boot, he immediately looked around her room, "...Wash room?" Soryk asked her. "I can clean this up and get you some more water." And at some later point in time, he could clean up his boots too.