Pohaku assembled the drinks almost as quickly as he'd responded to trouble and handed them over to us—Ho first, of course. I sipped and let the peaty liquor work its magic on my tangled synapses. The erstwhile King Kamehameha V was doing the same thing, and I could almost see some of the tension melt away from his face. What the frag had he been up to before coming here? Where does a king in exile—by definition, one of the most recognizable of all people—go to avoid notice?