“Of course you got sick,” Alhaitham scoffed as he led you to your bed.

The grand scribe tried to lecture you about your carelessness to your health, but he always ended up at your bedside, tending to your every need. He was currently sitting on a stool at your bedside, a gentle hand against your forehead. He checked for a fever, wincing at how high your temperature was.

“…You’re Burning up. What did you even do to get a fever like this? Even Kaveh knows better than to get this sick.”