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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎 : 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓
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"Are you sure that you don't need a break?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.
I didn't think it would be possible for Carla to look even paler than he already was, but when I came back from conversing with Menae, he was shallowly breathing with his head leaning on his palms, eyes tightly squeezed shut, his face resembling the color of the sugar cubes Yuma loved dearly.
"No, he's-" Shin paused to quickly glance over at Carla, "yeah, he's good." Shin nonchalantly leaned back against the bedpost as if his brother totally wasn't about to pass out next to him.
I bit my lip and stared down at the hem of my dress, finding the lace trimming to be an adequate distraction to the rising guilt filling me to the brim. This is kind of my fault, right? He's been doing this extraneous and complicated spell back-to-back for three times now all so that I could go and talk with people from the past.
And on top of also dealing with an excruciating disease that slowly eats away at his life force... He hasn't complained once.
You know, the women that I've talked with, Beatrix, Cordelia, Menae... Say what they want about where their morality lies, but they all do have one thing in common that I hope to learn from them.
They all refused to feel sorry for themselves.
None of them pulled the 'woe is me' card or allowed themselves to feel helpless. No matter what, in their own way, they took their situation and looked it head-on with a face of courage.
None of them seemed anxious, nor conflicted about anything that I asked them in their past. Maybe it's because they did what they thought they needed to do and refused to wallow in powerlessness. In a way, Karlheinz, as power-hungry as he was, never got the satisfaction of making them feel helpless.
I purse my lips and take a deep breath, walking up to Carla and ignoring his feeble attempts to push my hands away. I pull his head away from his palms and place my right hand on his forehead and the left one at his nape.
He stares at me with wide eyes as I bring my face in closer to inspect his symptoms. His forehead was hot, eyes were sunken in and hollow, and there was a slight shivering to him as well. This kind of looks like....
Wait- Is this a magical fever? Is there such a thing?
I should probably get him to lie down- if he would ever stop being so stubborn. And since Banmaden most likely doesn't have any Nyquil, a couple of swigs of alcohol would put him to sleep, right?
