That day, the physician brought Eiravyne the medication, instructing Martha to administer a concoction of liquids tailored specifically for her condition.
Despite the unpleasant taste that made each dose a bitter ordeal, Eiravyne dutifully took the medicine.
She had grown accustomed to being obedient, conditioned by a lifetime where her family had never acknowledged the severity of her condition.
To find someone like Ilkar who did care—even if his concern felt double-edged—stirred a mixture of gratitude and apprehension within her.
Eiravyne slept fitfully throughout the day, her body betraying her with bouts of weakness and pain. As night descended, she stirred awake to find herself drenched in sweat, a sticky sensation that hinted at something worse. Disoriented, she moved cautiously, her senses heightened by a lingering dread. With trembling hands, she wiped her eyes, only to discover a figure beside her.
