Fifteen gave a dismissive smile. "It's not that bad. I'm just a bit tired. One good sleep and I'll be fine."
"Okay, then I'll go up first."
Phoebe was also worried about the milk in the incubator, so she turned and hurried upstairs.
Keeping her smile, Fifteen stood where she was, watching Phoebe go up the stairs until her figure disappeared from sight. Only then did Fifteen withdraw her gaze and let out a soft breath.
Turning, she walked toward the room on the second floor and lifted her hand to feel her own forehead.
Her palm was icy cold, but her forehead was burning hot.
Knowing the fever was coming from an inflamed wound, Fifteen wasn't particularly alarmed.
This wasn't the first time she'd been injured. A mild fever was nothing she would take too seriously, especially at a time like this.
She went into the restroom off the corridor, splashed her face with cold water to perk herself up a little, and immediately turned to head toward the Pharmacy Room in the Royal Palace.
