***
Awake.
Warmth bathed her face as Merlan opened her eyes. Her eyes focused and she found she was staring at an ornate fireplace, watching the flames flicker and crack. Her eyes followed a spark until it was gone and her fingers curled into the fabric of a soft, heavy blanket. Everything ached and her hands felt strange, as if they were buzzing and hissing. It took her a few tries to move them, but when she glanced down at them, she realized that she had really made it. Thick lines in blue and gold stood out, glimmering as they soaked up firelight, against her hands.
Merlan had never been so tired in her life.
“They weren’t sure you’d make it.” The voice came from her left and she shifted, grimacing slightly. She caught a glimpse of dark hair and a square jaw. “I said you would.” A black gloved hand went up. “Your sister is fine. She bore it better than you did as far as recovery is concerned.”
There was a slight pause and then Merlan found her aching hands full of a very medicinal smelling cup, which was steaming. She was also very much aware that the voice belonged to a sharp nosed man in his late twenties with eyes that were nearly colorless, save for the faintest trace of brown in an outer ring. They were definitely magnetic eyes and she forced herself to glance away. His thin lips were made thinner as he motioned for her to drink and he looked decidedly harassed, especially with the way his eyebrows winged upward like a startled crow.
“No talking,” he added, “just drink. Its taste is better than its smell, I assure you, Lady Merlan.”
With his bright eyes on her, Merlan took a sip and was pleasantly surprised. There was a heavy mint taste to it, but chocolate as well, and the aftertaste was refreshing, almost as if she’d downed a glass of water. His smile was smugly satisfied.
Awake.
Warmth bathed her face as Merlan opened her eyes. Her eyes focused and she found she was staring at an ornate fireplace, watching the flames flicker and crack. Her eyes followed a spark until it was gone and her fingers curled into the fabric of a soft, heavy blanket. Everything ached and her hands felt strange, as if they were buzzing and hissing. It took her a few tries to move them, but when she glanced down at them, she realized that she had really made it. Thick lines in blue and gold stood out, glimmering as they soaked up firelight, against her hands.
Merlan had never been so tired in her life.
“They weren’t sure you’d make it.” The voice came from her left and she shifted, grimacing slightly. She caught a glimpse of dark hair and a square jaw. “I said you would.” A black gloved hand went up. “Your sister is fine. She bore it better than you did as far as recovery is concerned.”
There was a slight pause and then Merlan found her aching hands full of a very medicinal smelling cup, which was steaming. She was also very much aware that the voice belonged to a sharp nosed man in his late twenties with eyes that were nearly colorless, save for the faintest trace of brown in an outer ring. They were definitely magnetic eyes and she forced herself to glance away. His thin lips were made thinner as he motioned for her to drink and he looked decidedly harassed, especially with the way his eyebrows winged upward like a startled crow.
“No talking,” he added, “just drink. Its taste is better than its smell, I assure you, Lady Merlan.”
With his bright eyes on her, Merlan took a sip and was pleasantly surprised. There was a heavy mint taste to it, but chocolate as well, and the aftertaste was refreshing, almost as if she’d downed a glass of water. His smile was smugly satisfied.
