The cup rattled against the tray in my quivering hands as I struggled to maintain control. The small cup felt heavy, but despite my shaky grip, I brought it to my lips and drank, letting the liquid wash down the remnants of the hearty meal I had furiously consumed. I gulped, emptying the cup, and then poured more until the jug ran dry, oblivious to the mess I was making. The urgency to regain my strength outweighed any concerns about cleanliness. Splatters of food and water adorned the tray, stool, and polished wooden floor, but I paid them no mind.
I had just eaten and my strength was beginning to return, but it was barely there yet. I put down the empty cup and sighed, wanting to lie down on my back when I found Lord Fashire still looking at me.
