“Good morning,” a voice whispered, gently cracking Lerran’s eyes open. The room was bright, illuminated by a band of sunlight entering the curtained window. The light was blocked by the pillow Lerran’s arms were wrapped around. He lay in fetal position, under the blankets, clutching the pillow. He was damp with sweat, and his head immediately pounded with the light that blinded his eyes.
“Tass?” he asked, quietly.
She appeared, already dressed for the day in a white robe with a belt at her waist. She sat down on the side of the bed, and put her hand on his. “Are you feeling nauseas again?”
Lerran tried to shake his head, but it didn’t work. “Just my head, and dizziness…” Ever since escaping his father’s poison trap, Lerran had been ill. For the first four days, he’d hunched over a bucket, losing any food he ate. Now he just felt weak and achy. He was getting better, he knew, but not quickly. He forced himself up to a sitting position, no matter how his head complained. “Is there any business?”
“Nothing pressing,” Tass said. She wore her long brown hair bound on the right of her neck today. “I spoke with Eseveer already today. She’s running things well enough. If anything happens, I’ll bring it to your attention.”
“Good,” he said. He sighed, and closed his eyes. “Good.”
Tassina smiled. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
Lerran opened his eyes. She was sitting there smiling, with a cup of tea in each hand. She passed him one, and he held its warmth close. He probably stunk from his days of laying in bed. “Thank you,” he said, quietly.
“What’s your title?” Tass asked, with a laugh. “Just Lerran of Sheld, like your father? Or King Lerran, or Lord Employer Lerran? You’re in charge of the whole city now after all.”
“I don’t know,” Lerran said. He took a drink of his tea. “What would you like to call me?”
Tass grinned. “Prince sounds more cunning than King. And younger too. Prince Lerran of Sheld, I say.”
Lerran didn’t think many others would call him that, but he shrugged. “I’m a rather sick Prince then,” he said. He took another sip of his tea and wished it was rum.