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Mikol lifted one eyebrow. “Think again. I’m not leaving you alone with a physician when you’re going to be disrobed.”
“But I don’t want you to see me disrobed either.”
“I’ve already seen you, as you well remember, and since the plan is supposed to be that we’ll be seeing much more of each other in the future, don’t be ridiculous. I’m staying. There is no need for false modesty at this point.”
“Maybe not for you, but I’d like to retain a little if I could! And it’s not false. Not exactly, anyway.”
Mikol gave a heavy sigh. Lorians were proving to be even more difficult to deal with than humans. He wouldn’t have thought that possible.
“All this is unnecessary but slide under the bedsheets if it will make you more comfortable. Get your clothes off so the doctor can examine you, and I’ll turn my back.”
Mikol turned toward the wall and waited while he heard rustling noises behind him. Finally, Kalen huffed out a breath. “You can turn back around now. I’m ready, I guess, though I don’t understand why I have to be naked in order to see a damn doctor.”
Ignoring him, Mikol went to the door to let the doctor back in. The physician, a Tygerian and a member of Florin’s staff, bowed to him and came over to the bed to pull back the sheet to Kalen’s waist.
The doctor used his scanner again to check Kalen’s heart and vital signs, and then used his hands to palpate his stomach.
“Does this hurt?” he asked, and Kalen impatiently shook his head.
“No, nothing hurts. I was just feeling nauseated. My first meal didn’t agree with me, and I-I had way too much to drink a couple of nights ago.”
“Have you been ill since then?”
“Just now. Didn’t he tell you?””
“I meant this morning. Were you ill earlier this morning?”
“No.”
“And what were you drinking a couple of nights ago that made you so ill?”
“Cygnarral. It’s a liquor made on Leeria. I drank rather a lot of it.”
“I’m familiar with it.” He glanced over at Mikol. “It contains a high percentage of alcohol by volume. Up to 96 percent.”
“That would definitely do the trick,” Mikol said, looking down at Kalen. “Not much body mass.”
“Yes.”
Kalen made another grab for the sheet, but the doctor pulled it back down again and pushed him down to his back to scan over his stomach again with his little handheld device. “No infection, and nothing to worry about. Everything’s perfectly normal. The nausea is undoubtedly due to the amount of liquor he consumed and whatever he ate.” He shook a finger in Kalen’s face, as Kalen blinked, drawing back slightly. Mikol tried to hide another smile. The finger shaking was a very human gesture, and Mikol had to wonder if this doctor had spent some time on Earth or perhaps had a human omak himself.
“You should feel better soon. If not, I can prescribe some pills.” He turned back to Mikol.
“Don’t let him drink so much in the future, Your Highness.”
“No, I won’t.”
Kalen bristled and shot them both a dirty look.
The doctor allowed Kalen to snatch the covers back up again and packed his scanner away in his small bag. “He should be fine, but no more drinking of Cygnarral or any alcoholic beverages for the next twenty hours or so. The nausea should go away soon. If it persists, call me again.”
He turned and left the room, and Mikol sat down beside Kalen. He regarded him closely, though Kalen wouldn’t meet Mikol’s eyes.
When the silence began to get uncomfortable, Mikol trailed a finger down his arm, making him shiver.
“I didn’t know if I’d see you again,” Mikol said. “I’m glad I did.”
Kalen clutched the sheet like a lifeline, unwilling, it seemed, to look directly at him. “I’d like to get dressed now, please.”
