[He knows better than to take any offense at the edge in her voice; and he doesn’t. Instead, his brows inch higher and his smile becomes a little cheeky, fishing into his pocket and unearthing a small leather pouch. He pulls the flap open to reveal a neat row of glass vials. Tinctures, potions, finely and freshly brewed.]

Not exactly. But I thought I’d bring you some medicine that you can trust more than what these mages are whipping up.

[Maybe something from a friend goes down better than the castle hands, flitting about here and there and trying to heal an agitated patient. He hands it to her for inspection.]

Something to help with the pain, and something to help you sleep. I’m not as good at tossing together potions as you, but I gave it the ol’ college try, and I think they came out well enough. I’ll take constructive criticism, though, from the expert.