"I have not said it strongly enough. I loathe it. It is a weak, foolish, unmanly way to conduct a body's business. I prefer steel."
"I know," he said again.
She seemed to have more to say, but it was long in coming. She chewed on her words, sighed, cursed, then glared at him.
"This was not in my plans."
"I imagine it wasn't," he said dryly.
"It might just be a little magic, this business that troubles me," she said, sounding as if she didn't dare hope the same might be true.
"It might be."
"Indeed," she said, apparently warming to the idea, "it's possible that there is merely some village witch lurking amongst my ancestors. Perhaps her son passed this weakness down through the generations to me." She put her shoulders back. "An aberration. That's all it is."
"Very likely," he said, though he didn't exactly agree.
She shot him a sharp look. "Weger would be disgusted."
"Hmmm."
"He would likely take back his mark."
"Does he do that." Miach asked in surprise.
"There's always a first time," she said darkly.
"Well," he said, putting his hand briefly on her shoulder, "we'll try not to let him know. Perhaps the magic only comes when you've had too little sleep. "
"Think you?" she asked, without hope.
Miach patted her shoulder, then took his hand back before she cut it off. "Stranger things have happened."
"I suppose," she muttered, then she hesitated. "It looks as if your brother is looking for you."
"Or you," Miach said under his breath. For all he knew, that was true. After all, what man with eyes could not look at Morgan and not find her lovely?
Would it be unsporting to place a hex of thorough ugliness upon the king of the realm?
Miach thought not.
Adhémar glared at him as he approached. "Where have you been?"
"Out for a run," Miach said easily.
Adhémar grunted, then looked at Morgan. "And you? What is your excuse?"
"Do I need one?" she asked tartly.
"You'll fall off your very expensive horse if you do not sleep." He nodded toward camp. "Take my spot. I'll go watch the horses."
Miach watched as Morgan nodded a little unsteadily. She did pause, however, at the edge of camp and look at him.
"Thank you," she said simply.
"Thank you," Adhémar echoed. He looked after her as she walked away, then turned to Miach. "Thank you for what? What did you do for her?"
"Why do you care?"
