Delia reached to fetch a napkin from the tray and pressed it to his chin gently. She could only imagine what it had been like out there.

Nothing could have prepared her for his comment about the boots though.

In an effort to be sympathetic, she started with, "Oh, my poor darling," but could not much contain the laughter that followed. His boots! Of course Delia had heard of resorting to such measures when one had no other option, but to think that Hadrian had been forced to eat his boots, well, in time she wasn't sure she would ever let him live it down.

"That must have been terrible," she managed after a moment. "Slow down, Love, you're going to make yourself ill." He'd always had a healthy appetite, but after not eating anything of... substance for a few days, he would likely get sick and it would all come back up if he didn't take it easy.