Feverish

She awoke to the sensation of a cold finger brushing against her forehead. Groggily opening her eyes, she felt a parched sensation in her throat, making it difficult to swallow. Her head throbbed with pain, and even the simple act of blinking felt arduous.

Struggling to focus, she lifted her heavy eyelids and found Zyran sitting at the edge of the bed, his hand pressed against her forehead.

"You're burning up," he remarked, noticing the beads of sweat on her brow.

"But I feel cold," she croaked, her throat raw and her lips dry.

Zyran rose from his seat to replenish the dwindling fire. As he approached, he gently lifted her into his embrace, letting her head rest against his neck.

He could feel the soft warmth of her breath against his skin. Slowly, he carried her over to the bath, carefully placing her on a bench as he prepared the water.

Amira watched as he filled the tub with lukewarm water, adding something she couldn't quite identify. After finishing, he turned to her and said.

"Let's take your clothes off," he said. She was still in her attire.

Unable to resist, she watched as he assisted in removing her clothes, she couldn't even feel shy because of her pending condition.

Her eyes remained closed as Zyran took off her gown skillfully removing the corset and discarding it aside.

She was bared before him like a child vulnerable and sick.

He placed her in the tub she relaxed the water soothing.

"Are you feeling comfortable?" he softly asked Amira as she gently lifted her sleepy eyelid and nodded.

Zyran perched himself at the edge of the bathtub, silently observing her as she gradually drifted back to sleep.

After about twenty minutes, Zyran carried her back to the room. He carefully dressed her in her nightgown, intending to spend the night on the nearby couch.

However, he noticed Amira shivering despite the warm temperature.

"How cold are you?" he inquired, before deciding to join her in bed and draw her close to share his warmth.

Amira drifted in and out of sleep throughout the night. As daybreak finally arrived, she was deeply asleep.

When she awoke, the sun was shining brightly in the room. Amira sat up with a yawn, feeling drowsy and queasy. Although her fatigue had lessened, she still experienced lingering effects.

The door creaked open and Zyran stepped into the room. Amira was taken by surprise and swiftly clutched the duvet, pulling it up to her chest. She was wearing a nearly transparent satin nightgown, and she couldn't help but blush at the thought of being so exposed in front of him.

Zyran suppressed a chuckle, not wanting her to feel embarrassed when she discovered that he had bathed her the previous night.

"Good morning," she greeted, her voice hoarse.

Zyran responded by joining her on the bed, gently placing his palm on her forehead to check her temperature. After a moment, he nodded with a contented hum.

"Your fever has broken. You should take the day to rest," he advised.

"Did you take care of me through the night ?" she inquired.

"Do you not remember?" he responded, tilting his head slightly.

She shook her head, her mind still fuzzy from slipping in and out of consciousness last night. She struggled to make sense of what she had seen and heard.

"Nora will be here later," Zyran said. "You should let her know if you need anything. She will take care of it."

"I will be in the courtroom if you need me," he added before taking his leave.

Amira nodded in acknowledgment as Zyran left, and soon enough, Nora arrived.

One late afternoon, Amira found herself seated in a luxurious carriage with Zyran. He sat with a lean and serious posture, gazing out the window. Amira couldn't discern their destination, but she knew it was outside of town.

The knights of Zyran's squad always accompanied him, particularly when he left the palace.

They seemed to be constantly following him, as if preparing for battle as they trailed behind his carriage.

Despite her infrequent outings, she occasionally caught glimpses of them, but she was not fully aware of their activities.

Additionally, Zyran's most trusted men, Aaron and Ali, rode along on horseback, leading the others in formation.

After a lengthy journey, Amira began to feel the strain on her back from sitting for an extended period.

As a member of royalty, it wasn't considered proper for her to slouch or assume an awkward posture. Feeling her discomfort, she let out a deep sigh that interrupted Zyran's contemplation of the passing scenery.

Sensing her unease, Zyran signaled to the coachman.

"Stop at the nearest inn, we rest there for the night".

"Yes your Highness ", the coachman replied.