"Enough."
He said, and with a wave, he motioned for Adolf.
"Adolf, bring the border reports for yesterday. Leave them with Morena."
The steward moved at once without hesitation in his movement.
"And fetch Marta from the infirmary when you go. The poultice burns like bad wine."
"Immediately, my lord."
Adolf said and slipped out.
Alina reached for the cup on the bedside table and held it while her father drank. She set it down with care, fingers lingering on the wooden table.
"Father. We'll be careful."
She said in a soft tone, concerned that if he worried about their well-being, he would only get worse.
"I know you will, you're both smart. After all, you take after your old man."
He chuckled slightly, groaning from the pain as he did. His gaze tracked from her face to Morena's and back again.
"Be careful who you speak to, the words you say, and the things you do. The walls have ears, and there is no telling which one comes with a knife as well."
