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He wakes in a haze, and Jingyan is there.
This is the natural way of things. Years of tension waking with him tell him enough that he must not show that that's what he's thinking, but his mind is too sluggish to be helpful and he can't catch hold of why. Is it safe for him to open his eyes the rest of the way, to let Jingyan know he's watching? Yes, his instincts say; not safe to frown at him and demand to know why a prince pours wine for his friends like a heavy-handed commoner. Nor safe to push himself up on his elbow, although he learns this when he tries, and his elbow won't hold him.
Jingyan is already moving in. He levers Lin Shu up to rest against the little pillow behind him. "Your doctors," he says, "tell me that you had another attack."
"My doctors are under orders not to tell you that kind of thing at all," Lin Shu says. No-- that's something Mei Changsu says, and Yan responds to it the way he usually responds to attempts to give him an order: by ignoring it. Changsu scowls and turns his attention back to his prince-- someone's prince-- usually this is easy, like slipping in and out of a cloak. Although that's not easy either. Jingyan is looking at him. "What?"
"Nothing of importance," Jingyan says. He hesitates, then adds: "I was worried. Advisers are not thick on the ground."
"That's the opposite of your problem," says Lin Shu.
This is obviously not the right answer. Jingyan draws back. What would Changsu have said? He can't find it, and that isn't right either-- Su Zhe, that's right, another layer, only sensible when he goes armored into his own court-- he thinks for a moment of Nihuang who peeled him like an onion and says in a burst of irritation: "You are staring at me."
Jingyan draws even further back, a prince and a turtle. "I apologize. I can go."
"You can," Su agrees. Serene and mysterious, isn't that the play? Would this be easier if he could feel his feet? "But perhaps you need your advisor today."
"I also will have need of you tomorrow," Jingyan says. "And in ten years' time, providing..."
"That our goals are not at odds."
Jingyan nods, like the direct individual that he is. "And that your sickness is treated properly, of course. Is there anything you're missing?"
"Nothing, your highness."
"That can't be right," Jingyan says, and Su braces as he ponderously swings around for a joke, "you always have something you want me to do."
"I would never ask Prince Jing to do anything he did not already wish to do," Su says, to see if he can make Jingyan laugh, and instead gets a look so appalled it's almost wounded. He means to follow this up before the coughing arrives, all in a herd from wherever it's been gone, and Jingyan trips over himself in his hurry to pull the brazier closer. Su turns himself into the warmth and eventually the coughing passes, and Physician Yan is tilting his chin back to inspect his eyes.
"He is still too weak, your highness," Yan says. "He will need to sleep. Not that he'll do so."
"I do what's necessary," Changsu mutters, and Jingyan says, "Physician Yan, if you need royal leave to restrain him--"
"No, no, your highness, thank you. We'd do it without."
"You are well served," Jingyan says.
The prince has already stood up to go. He's so square, and awkward, kind, trying not to impose on a man who's-- who's-- the lie slips away again and Lin Shu gives up. He says, "Not as well as you."
Now the briefest of smiles. Jingyan says, "I know."