Hoshor Plains gentlelady

"y-yes, quite," he half-lied, lids fluttering with the impact of his sidestep. "i have — i get ill, f-from time to time. it's been a y-year or so. arlette has been t-treating me," he declared, having never forgotten that he meant to bring her lavender.
"chamomile will put me r-right. we just need to f-find some." underneath her observational, worried gaze, lestan did not think he could continue fibbing for long. none of it was a lie! just the omission that he went stark raving mad at times.
"i'll l-let you choose our d-direction. if we're going to look for wake, we sh-should stay in the flatlands for a time."