69. A Long-Absent Friend*

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The headache awaiting Elery the next morning was hardly unexpected in hindsight of the previous night's drinking. She groaned loudly then cringed at the sound of her own voice. It was, perhaps, a foolish decision to allow the others and herself to indulge so deeply in alcohol. Yet with things as they were she hadn't the heart to deny them. Many would no doubt die for their cause. A night of indulgence, one last pleasant moment, was owed to them. Though the original intent was to leave that morning, it was an ambitious goal she knew wouldn't be met. Packing and preparation was needed, and recovery from a night of too much ale was in dire need as well.

Isandel was already awake when she rolled over to face him. He had one arm tucked behind his head, the other raised with a book in hand. When he took notice of her movement he set the book aside and said in a hushed voice, "You look as though sleep wasn't quite enough for you."

Hazy memories returned to her, granting her fleeting visions of the way she behaved just before falling asleep. Her face turned crimson. Despite the pain it caused, she sat up and turned to hang her legs over the side of the bed. "I...I behaved badly last night and I ask your forgiveness."

The bed shifted and he said nothing. Instead, his arms curled around her shoulders to hug her. "You have no reason to ask forgiveness."

"Then...I must thank you." She leaned back and closed her eyes. "You prevented me from doing something I might regret, and I cannot begin to show my appreciation for that."

Isandel laughed. "In any other situation I might take offense to that."

"I didn't...I mean, the regret would not—"

"You needn't explain. I understand. I must admit that...were I the same as I was when first we met, I might have taken that offer. It would not have crossed my mind to refuse."

His close proximity made his lowered voice just loud enough to be painful but she endured it. The warmth, both physically and emotionally, was a great comfort.

"The keepers have made rounds already. They left word that your armor is ready, as is a warm bath and slickroot to help combat the ale sickness." He pulled away and the bed shifted again as he reached toward the small bedside table. He picked up a glass of water and a small bundle, and rather than shift the bed more he stood and walked around to kneel before her. "It was delivered some time ago and is no doubt tepid. I could fetch another glass if you like."

"Water is water." She took the cloth bundle. Opening the twine holding it shut revealed the ground pink and green herbs within and released their pungent, musty scent. She dumped the batch in the water and, with a swift gulp, drank down the contents without allowing for time to dwell on the taste.

"Are you hungry?"

She grimaced and offered back the glass. "Once the taste of those herbs leaves my mouth I'm sure I will be."

"Come on then," he urged. "The bath won't be warm forever."

His energy irked her more than she wished to admit and she stood. He remained close at her side as she walked to the door and she grumbled, "How are you spared this misery?"

"Dragons metabolize alcohol far better than your kind. I slept my sickness away." He opened the door and they walked down the hall, passing keepers and groggy soldiers. "I know not yet how the lycar fared after their night of indulgence."

Elery shook her head and uttered a loud groan. The action felt as though she'd violently shaken the contents of her skull. The promise of a warm bath in which to relax and weather her ale sickness kept her moving forward. She stopped only when she saw one of the keepers folding clean tunics and bed sheets on a large table in the foyer. "Might you be free soon to show me to the bath?"

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