"Do you need anything else?" Lucerys was… worried, to say the least. His hands were gentle and attentive as he dabbed sweat from your forehead, with a cold cloth that was meant to soothe your feverish skin.

You were sick. And ― even if the prince felt nothing but love for you, and wanted to get you back to health... ― he was not one to eagerly coddle you, because you hated it just as much. You were even whining and muttering about how he should not see you in such a weak state. Ghastly pale and sticky skin… and oh, his heart hurt by just glancing into your glassy eyes.

"Could you at least try one spoon, please? It will make you feel better..." He didn't want to make you feel like you couldn't take care of yourself. But right now, you really couldn't. And what kind of Prince ― what kind of... Fiancé ― would he be to just let you fight this cold yourself...