"How is he?"
A nobleman asked a physician who had just sighed dejectedly after looking at the kid lying on the bed, unmoving.
The doctor in a grey suit with a monocle on his eye, lifted his head and met the worried and anxious face of the nobleman. He sighed again, before answering the man with a curt headshake.
"His body will slowly decline if he doesn't wake up. Water can only help him last for two weeks. Any longer and the young master might die of dehydration and hunger before even regaining his consciousness."
Those words stabbed painfully into the nobleman's chest. Hearing that his child might die anytime soon, he couldn't help but tear up and completely took off his brave and noble facade. He walked closer to the bed, where a seven-year-old boy was sleeping so peacefully, breathing finely yet looking so gaunt and malnourished. His face was devoid of any vitality, but his lips were curved into a content and happy smile.
