Ill (openish)

[youngandhealthy]

Molly Seagrim is not in any of her usual haunts today. Whether it was the walk in the rain, or just poor coincidence, she woke today feeling awful, and didn't bother to get out of bed. And as the hours passed, the prospect didn't brighten any

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[le_desirous]

Sagramore, as it happens, has been wondering after her, and takes this particular day to poke his head into her room.

"My lady?"

[youngandhealthy]

She lifts her hand a little with a smile. "My good knight - tis well to see thee, true. I fear I'll make you poor company, though, this day."

[le_desirous]

A small laugh. "You're ill; we make allowances. Are you tended?"

[youngandhealthy]

"Mr. Jones did bring me some tea, a bit ago."

[le_desirous]

"That's all?"

[youngandhealthy]

"And did sit a bit." She waves a hand dismissively as she coughs. "Tis a small chill, no more."

[le_desirous]

"Are you fevered?"

[youngandhealthy]

"Mayhap. I know not for certain."

[le_desirous]

He comes inside then. "May I see?"

[youngandhealthy]

"If it'd ease ye. I'm just a little poorly, tis all."

[le_desirous]

"Ah, well, when you're with child that's a less simple question. Have you been awake all this time?"

[youngandhealthy]

"Nay, comes and goes."

[le_desirous]

He puts a hand on her forehead; his hands are big, and cooler than one expects. "I'm no doctor, you understand, but I think you should be kept cool."

[youngandhealthy]

"I know less; I'll trust ye. But I feel right cold as things stand." She's piled with blankets, but shivers a bit.

[le_desirous]

"That's the way of it. Horses are the same," as he stands again from her bedside. "I'll get a cloth."

[youngandhealthy]

"Alright," she says, trusting him.