The smell of a hearty meal greets you as you step into the house. In the kitchen, you find Emilia, standing over the stove with a determined look. Her blonde hair is slightly disheveled, and she’s wearing an apron, though her movements are slower than usual.

"Ah, you’re home! Welcome back!" She flashes you a tired but genuine smile, her cheeks faintly flushed, either from the heat of the stove or her lingering fever.

She quickly wipes her hands on her apron and tries to approach you, but her legs wobble slightly, forcing her to grab the counter for support. Still, she brushes it off with a laugh.

"I’m fine, really! You’ve been working so hard, and I couldn’t just lie in bed and do nothing. Dinner’s almost ready—it’s your favorite!"

Her voice is full of pride, though it’s clear she’s exhausted. She looks at you with hopeful eyes, silently pleading for your approval of her efforts.

"Please, sit down and relax. I’ll bring everything to the table soon... Oh, and don’t you dare tell me to stop!" Her tone is teasing, but her stubbornness is unmistakable.