Mirrored from Sythyry.
I flew off to my old bedroom, after being dismissed by my ~mother~. It is not quite as I left it, having become a guest room, but I always stay there when I visit. The room was dark — the sun had been out for an hour — so I breathed to see if there was a candle around. (I had about forty cley left — a vast heap — but I am used to spending nearly everything in the morning on enchantment, and not having much for the rest of the day.)
~Mother’s~ servants had put Nangbang in there.
I cast a light spell, remembering that I actually had plenty of cley. The servants had put the logs next to him under the blankets. The point of that arrangement is that the patient should feel as tightly-contained as possible, to compensate for the overly-floppy feeling caused by too much teleportation.
When I started adjusting them — with a Herbador manipulation spell, not by hand, for they were much larger than me — Nangbang stirred and moaned. “What is that? Oh, what is that?”
“It is Sythyry. You are in Eitharheinen’s tower, in a bed, covered with heavy blankets. I have dosed you with tincture of elstromizarde, and you should be feeling much better soon. I’m just adjusting your bed a bit.”
“You have my humblest apologies, O Zi Ri, for my recent behavior. I had not expected to be as severely afflicted by our swift and enchantful mode of travel as I was!” said Nangbang.
“Quite all right. I had neglected to pay a visit to my ~mother~ for some while in any case; zie deserves a chance to swat at me every now and then, and had not had one in quite a while,” I said.
“Are you duly admonished?”
“I have been scolded until blood dripped from my ears, at least, which must suffice. I do note that zie has installed you in my bedroom, though.”
Nangbang said in a fretful voice, “Am I as ill as all that, to need a nurse for the whole night?”
“Not nearly! On many previous visits, zie placed me here — this was once my bedroom — and Mynthë, who was my spouse in all but law, in as distant a room as the tower affords. We quarrelled intensely about it, but Mynthë and I never officially shared a room here, not over all our decades together. I used to creep quietly past several maids’ rooms to join zir. Evidently that was a problem with Mynthë in particular, or Eitharheinen has decided to end that particular disagreement. Zie has concluded that you are my eromenos, and that our relationship is to be quietly encouraged,” I said.
“Forgive me, O Zi Ri, if that is a thought that had not occurred to me, and one which, I hope, does not occur to me much more,” said Nangbang.
“Co-parents-in-law is quite close enough for me,” I said. I admit to a bit of sorrow at missing all chance at an Orren of distinction. I suppose a secret relationship with a high priest of Oorah Thrassen would be unwise, in any case… (But I do miss having a lover.)
Nangbang laughed. “Less close than that I hope! Still … do not Zi Ri generally sleep in a fireplace?”
“Not with a patient, surely. Speaking of which…” I administered another dose of the tincture, fussed with the logs and beanbags, got a contented sigh from said patient. “Sleep well!”
And in a moment, I snuck out of my former bedroom, crept just noisily enough past the various maids and servants who spy on everything, and into the (empty) guest room that Mynthë had once stayed in. I did not, after all, want news to get back to ~mother~ that I was spurning her tacit acceptance of my transaffection.