"I agree. And tell the nurse to let him sleep until he wakes by himself. The Supreme has said he and the First Speaker will wait until Steve is ready to see them."
"They do him much honor."
Tarlac woke up once during the night, and was vaguely aware of being helped to someplace where he vomited and afterwards collapsed. Then he was carried back to bed, where dim light showed him a reassuring shark-toothed smile before a cool cloth covered his forehead and eyes and he went out again.
The next time he woke it was to lights that were too bright. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, wishing he were still unconscious.
There was a light touch on his arm, and a musical voice said something he couldn't understand but thought was sympathetic. He didn't want sympathy, he wanted to die. Well, maybe he just wanted anything that would end the misery. He recognized a hangover, though he'd never had one this bad before; while it would end in time, he wouldn't enjoy the next few hours.
Then an arm under his head and shoulders raised him and a different voice, Hovan's, said, "Drink." There was a glass at his lips; he obeyed without thought.
What he drank was almost too sour to swallow, but within a few minutes he was feeling better. A little bit. "What time is it?"
"Midday, twelve and a half hours by your timepiece."
Tarlac groaned again, forcing his eyes open. "You do this to everybody you adopt?"
"No, ruhar. You a bad reaction had, an allergy, Doctor Channath says. You should soon better feel."