“Come on, rise and shine! "Tis a belter of a day, and tomorrow"s the tourney. You can"t win by dreaming of victories, we must get out there and flex our muscles.” Valentine wielded an imaginary sword, relieved that his arm was healed. The paste of mandragora leaves the physician wrapped it in worked wonders.
“I do not give a feak if the sun ceases to rise and we plunge into eternal night,” Richard mumbled into the pillow.
Valentine bent over to hear him. “Are you ill? Shall I summon the physician?”
“Nay, fetch no one. I heard news last evening that fairly broke my heart.” His head no longer buried in the pillow, he pulled the coverlet up over it.
“Oh, I"m sorry you are downtrodden. But do rise and break your fast. You will feel better with a full stomach. I shall practice with sword in
