Hazel laughed softly. "It's no' my favorite either," she confessed. "A dear friend of
mine is always makin' the horrid stuff. I don't know how she stomachs it."
"I'm dying, Lady ."
"I know." Hazel studied his ancient face. Even the bit of color he had the day before
was gone, but his mind was still sharp, his tongue just as biting.
"And I'm not going to eat anything I don't want."
She could see his point. Hazel placed her hand on his. "I will na force the porridge
on ye then, my lord. Is there something you do want?
The Quess shook his head. "Just stay here. Talk to me. It's been forever since
anyone just talked to me."
Hazel nodded. "Of course, my lord. What shall we talk about?
Netherland" he suggested before coughs racked his body, shaking the bed beneath
him.
Netherland? H
