She blinked, not at all registering the words in favor of lifting the back of her hand to his cheek gently, "mayhap you shouldst sit, lord," she noted, peering at his eyes. No, he didn't appear injured or ill, but the sudden vagueness was worrisome?

Don't mind her other hand going to his wrist to take his pulse alright? It was habit! "In your swearing and feeding unto the High Lord how much is often taken?" Enough to knock a strong and vital man on his ass apparently?