Lucian rested in bed, the soft rustle of papers filling the room when the doors creaked open. Sarang peeked in, his lips forming a cute pout.
“Master, can I come in? I made you food.” Sarang said, his voice tinged with concern.
Lucian glanced up and nodded.
Pushing the door open with his shoulder, Sarang waltzed into the room carrying a tray. He approached the bed and presented it to Lucian, who set the papers aside.
“It’s ginseng chicken noddle soup.” Sarang explained, rubbing his shoulder nervously. “I heard you weren’t feeling well. Did the doctor come?”
“Yes.”
Sarang fidgeted with his fingers, his brows knitting in worry. “It’s not serious, right? Are you going to get better? I’ve never seen you bedridden–not even from a fever.”
Lucian chuckled, placing a warm hand on Sarang’s hair with a reassuring smile. “You have nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine. The doctor said I overexerted myself and need some rest.”