Eilika watched Damian as he observed her and Roman. His usual mask of coldness had slipped, his features softening as if he found a rare peace in seeing Roman so happy.
"Roman, why don't you go back to your room? I don't want the fever to spread to you," Eilika suggested gently. "Besides, it's almost lunch time, isn't it?"
"Yes, Mama. I was in the middle of art class when the servant told me you were awake. Father was taking care of you," Roman said, his innocent eyes fixed on hers.
"Really? Your father took care of me?" Eilika asked, her voice laced with disbelief. She glanced at Damian, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet.
"Yes, Mama. Father and I were so worried. Can we sleep together tonight? I don't want to leave your side," Roman pleaded.
"Of course. I'll tell you stories until you fall asleep," Eilika agreed, pulling him closer.
Damian stepped toward the bed. "Roman, let your mother rest now."
