"I had this dream once," Sumair was saying, half delirious with fever, "that I was a king and I married Empress Georgine, may the gods bless her soul."
Lydia was wringing her hands at Shaya, who was rummaging through the cabinets, while yelling at Lydia to go do something useful.
"You married Empress Georgine," said Rufus.
"Yes, and then she died, or she was killed," Sumair said, frowning. "And then I fucked your father."
Lydia was screaming, hysterically, at Shaya, to find the fucking salve goddammit he's going to get an infection—
"You fucked my—my da?" Rufus said, as if the idea of anyone fucking his da were preposterous.
"Course he was young and my age an' all, or else I wouldn't have fucked him," Sumair said, as if he were not currently bleeding to death.
"Which one of my fathers was this?"
"Lucas. Yeah, him. He was quite the looker, you know."
"Don't talk about my father like that," said Rufus. "Listen, buddy, I'm going to need you to stop talking."
"Okay," Sumair said. "Can you do me a favor, though?"
"What?"
Sumair struggled to keep his eyes open. "Turn into Peter."
A bowl clattered onto the floor, and Shaya sounded like she was about to cry, while Lydia was now going through bottles and bottles of medicines and salves, all the while cursing out all ninety three minor gods found in the old religion. She was going in alphabetical order.
"Why do you want that?" Rufus asked.
"So I can remember how much I hate Thesallians," Sumair said. Angrily, he continued, "Blood-eating, shit-eating, hay-breeding, piss-fucking—"
"Hey," Rufus said, gently pressing his hand onto Sumair's chest. "Easy there, buddy."
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
SIESTA!!
बेतरतीबsome stuff because i'm too shy to literally post anywhere else let me live
