Tarquin glared at him. “Thank you for your counsel, Physician Mundir. But if you insult the queenling again, I will personally escort you to Minek and leave you there. I’m certain they could use a good healer in the far north.”
“My apologies, Mage of the Realm,” Mundir said quickly, beard quivering. “I meant no offence.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Tarquin stood, then gave him the short form of the mage’s fealty pledge out of politeness. Mundir was an arrogant curmudgeon, but Tarquin knew it wasn’t the old man he was angry at. “Good night, Physician Mundir.”
“Wait.” Mundir snatched up the small gold bear and pressed it into his hands. “It’s for you,” he said when Tarquin blinked at him. “Please.”