Читать книгу A Meddle of Wizards - Alexandra Rushe - Страница 20

Chapter 12

A Matter of Patients

The bowl hit the wall with a resounding crash, sending bits of crockery flying. Broth ran down the marble wall and pooled onto the floor.

“Stop trying to feed me dishwater,” Raven said, glowering at Glory. “A warrior needs meat to regain his strength, not this pap.”

Raven seethed with anger and frustration. Illness of any kind was foreign to him, and restoring Glory’s vision had left him weak as a babe, necessitating a delay in their departure. The delay chafed, but the unaccustomed weakness irked him a thousandfold more.

“My goodness, Raven, sometimes you can be stubborn as a troll.”

“I was raised by a troll. Dandled on her great hairy knee.”

Glory sniffed. “How could I forget? It’s obvious you inherited Gertie’s charming disposition.”

“Aye, and her appetite as well. And you know what they say about hungry trolls.”

“You’re welcome to eat an entire stag once you’ve recovered. In the meantime, it’s broth or nothing.”

“They’re one and the same.”

“I made this stock with my own hands from a secret recipe with healing properties,” Glory said. “Every day you brangle with me is another day you languish in bed.”

With that, she motioned to the serving girl hovering in the doorway. Giggling and simpering, the wench sidled into the room with another bowl of soup.

Glory pressed her lips together. “What is it about you that reduces the members of my sex to twittering idiots?” Tilting her head, she studied him. “Granted, you’re not bad looking, but that alone doesn’t account for it.”