Chapter: Green

Rating: K in this chapter.


"I, uh—Sir?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"I don't think—I'm not going to be able to—"

Jon stood from his desk, hastily scattering drying sand over a newly drafted proclamation. "Can it wait? We should be at the Council meeting now." He glanced up and caught sight of his squire swaying in the doorway. "Mithros, are you all right? You look rather green."

Zahir closed his eyes in a valiant attempt to stop the room from spinning. "Not—going to make it—meeting," he choked out.

Still gathering papers, the king cast him a vaguely worried look. "Go find the healers, get it cleared up. I need you this afternoon for the audience with the delegation from the Bazhir. Don't forget." He swept out of the room, the door closing far too loudly in his wake.

Clutching the nearest piece of furniture, Zahir took a step, then pitched forward, landing in a heap on the floor. "Find the healers," he muttered. "Not—that easy."