“Oh, the poor thing!” Palmani cried. “He’s going to be very sorry in the morning.”

“Perhaps sooner. Really, I fear for the state of your carriage.”

“A wise concern,” said Reltheus. “Please, stay the night.”

Seregil sighed. “We’ve abused your hospitality enough already.”

“Nonsense!” said Palmani. She summoned a servant. “Have one of the bedrooms made up for them at once. And send some men to carry Lord Alec upstairs.”

“You’re far too kind,” said Seregil.

“He’s not our first guest to enjoy our wine too much, Lord Seregil. It’s no trouble at all.”

“Perhaps I should go,” said Atre, watching it all with counterfeit concern.

“Oh, do stay a little longer!” Palmani pleaded. “This will only take a few minutes.”

“Want to stay ’n’ watch Atre,” Alec mumbled, leaning unsteadily on Seregil.

“Some other time,” Seregil told him none too gently.

They were given a room overlooking the garden, and Palmani accompanied them upstairs. As Seregil followed the servants carrying Alec, he tried to take stock of the other rooms along the corridor, but most of the doors were closed.

Their bedchamber was large, with tall fretted summer doors that let onto a balcony beyond. The furnishings were richly carved, and the walls were decorated with murals of fantastical undersea scenes.

The servants placed Alec on the bed and pulled off his boots.

“If I might trouble you for one last thing, dear Duchess,” Seregil said. “I think a bucket may soon be in order.”

“I’ll have one sent up at once, and water.” She looked down at Alec, who was snoring softly. “I fear you’re in for a restless night. I can have one of the servants tend to him, if you’d like a room of your own.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. We’ve been through this before.”

“Good night, then. I’ll have breakfast sent up in the morning.”

“I think bread and tea will suffice.”

When she was gone, Seregil sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked Alec’s flushed cheek. “Talí?”

Alec moaned and looked up at him. Though not quite as drunk as he’d pretended, he was still glassy-eyed. “Did it work?” he mumbled.

“Perfectly.”

Alec gazed blearily around. “Is that octopus on the wall really moving?”

“No,” Seregil chuckled.

“The bed is moving!”

“No, it’s not, love.”

Two maidservants hurried in with the bucket, water, and several small flannels. Seregil folded one into a band, soaked it in water, and laid it across Alec’s forehead. “Does that help?”

“No,” Alec gasped, looking pale. “Bucket!”

Seregil supported him over the side of the bed as Alec brought up both wine and dinner. When he was finished, Seregil set the bucket outside, undressed Alec, and settled him more comfortably in bed with a fresh cloth on his brow.

“Better now?”

“A little,” Alec said, eyes fluttering shut. “You damn well better find something!”