The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the soft glow of a lantern by your bedside. The cold from your fever had left you shivering, though you tried your best to stay under the covers, wrapped up to ward off the chill. You had hoped to power through, to pretend everything was fine, but the headache and dizziness kept you rooted in bed.

Outside, you could hear the faint sound of boots echoing in the hallway—a familiar rhythm you instantly recognized. Gepard. You’d known him for a while now, and his presence had always been steady and dependable, just like the Silvermane Guard he commanded.

But today, something felt different. You had barely been able to stand when he arrived, and now, you found yourself too tired to even speak.

The door opened gently, and there he was, standing in the doorway with a hesitant expression. His usual stoic demeanor was softened, his brow furrowed in concern as his eyes immediately found you curled up beneath the blanket.

Gepard’s voice was quiet, but there was a familiar edge of worry to it. "How are you feeling?"