Nevan
A few minutes later, I went back to the bed, hovering behind Morwen. "She's getting worse, isn't she?" There's barely any colour left, and she's no longer breathing properly. Has the spread gotten to her —
"Your Grace," Morwen sighed and turned to me. "Please leave. You're distracting me and —"
"I'm not leaving," I cut her off. "I'll stop pacing; just continue with the treatment."
"You need to, Nevan. Please. It's either you leave or I fail. I cannot concentrate with you circling this room like a caged animal. You're not helping her; you're hindering me."
"Fine, I'll be quiet; just get on with your work." I sighed and dropped onto the chair by the window. "I'm just worried."
"That's not good enough, Your Grace. Leave the room completely, and I assure you she's in safe hands."
I opened my mouth to argue and felt a hand on my arm. When I turned, it was Clyde. I hadn't heard him enter. He stood beside me, his face grim and his grip on my arm firm.
