Then vomit happened. All over her dress.
"Oh, Dekka," the skirt was ruined and she's known he was sick, her wet hands pushed through his hair and she rubbed his back, barely even noticing he still had a hand on her breast. "Let it all out," she said gently, still trying to sooth with her hands. What a reunion.
Clearly life had not been kind to Dekka.
Though Evarelia wondered if it was by his own doing. Probably, the Dekka she remembered was impulsive and foolhardy. "Are you going to be okay? Should I call for a doctor?" She leaned in, voice low, "you said you were good at making sons. You're not pregnant, are you?"