"Miach," she repeated.
"Aye."
She looked at him. Once she managed to get her eyes uncrossed and could actually see him, she felt her jaw drop.
Nay, not another one!
He had to be Adhémar's brother. Indeed, he might have been Adhémar's twin, but he was obviously several years younger. And, she had to admit, he was handsome in a different way. He had the same dark hair, the same handsome features, but a leaner build. He was also not sitting there, puffing out his chest, demanding by his very presence that any and all in the area drop to their knees and shower him with accolades. Could it be that he was actually tolerable?
Well, the only way to know for sure was to listen to him talk.
"Are you his brother? Adhémar's?"
"So my mother claimed. "
Morgan lifted one eyebrow. "And how does that set with you?"
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and smiled a very small smile. "A bit like a rash that I cannot scratch but that burns like hellfire just the same and never goes away."
Morgan almost smiled. "That I can understand?"
"Morgan! You're awake!"
She whipped her head around to see Glines standing just inside the doorway. She had to put her hands over her eyes to make the chamber cease with its spinning as Glines leaped into the chamber. He put his hand on her forehead.
"You're not feverish," he said, sounding vastly relieved.
It was testimony enough of her weakness of form that she allowed it without thinking. It was obvious Glines had done the like before. Perhaps she had been out of her head with fever. She brushed Glines's hand away in annoyance. "I am well."
"We worried. You've slept for two days. "
Morgan scowled at Glines. "Did Adhémar give me more herbs? I daresay I feel as if he did."
"Nay," Glines said. He shot Miach an uncomfortable look. "At least I don't think so. "
Morgan frowned at Miach. So, he was not without his faults. "Youdidn't give me any of Adhémar's brew, did you?"
He shook his head slowly. "I didn't."
"Fortunately for you," Morgan said. She studied him for another moment or two. "You poor man. I vow you are the mirror of Adhémar."
"Morgan," Glines said, sounding slightly aghast. He looked at Miach. "I'm sure she meant no offense."
"Of course I meant offense," Morgan said. "Adhémar is a dolt and when he opens his mouth, he confirms it. I'll reserve judgment on this brother until I've seen him with a sword in his hands. A sword of hisown,"she said, casting a pointed look at the collection of: her weapons he was surrounded by.
"Oh, Morgan, please stop," Glines said miserably.
Morgan was on the verge of telling Glines to go soak his head until it became useful to him again, but she was interrupted in giving that instruction by the arrival of Paien, Camid, and Fletcher. Even Adhémar came to stand in the doorway. Her comrades seemed very interested in making certain that she was well, which was cheering, but it got in the way of her comparing Miach to his elder brother. Not that she didn't have better things to do, but she wasn't reeling fully herself. An excuse for a little extra time to get her feet under her was a welcome thing.
"She looks well, doesn't she?" Paien was saying. "Much better than last night."
"Or the night before that," Camid added. "There was an unwholesome pallor to her face then."
"A gel with a weaker constitution might still be senseless," Paien said, "but not this one. Glines, go fetch her something to eat. She could use it."
Morgan thought that while there might be many things she could use, food was likely not one of them.
Then again, perhaps she was being too hasty. She shifted on the bed. Her stomach remained quite steady. She frowned thoughtfully. She did not feel any overwhelming evidence of magic in her system, but she also did not feel completely herself. Perhaps a meal would serve her well.
