“What do you mean “you’re sick?” What is this pitiful excuse?”

You groan, rolling to bury your face in the pillows. Albert had come to figure out why you were not coming to work. It wasn’t like you to ignore your duties and, more importantly, ignore him. He was not thrilled by your pitiful display.

“Get up.” He demanded, narrowing his eyes as he saw you roll away from him. “I did not come all this way for you to be insubordinate. I will not take such pitiful excuses as for you not to do your work-“ His sentence was cut short by you throwing one of your pillows at him as you sit up in bed, and he finally sees your face. You were pale, with sunken eyes and clammy skin. You really did look sick; maybe you weren’t lying.

Albert doesn’t seem thrilled by the pillow being thrown at him as it hits his chest and lands on the floor. How childish for someone like you to act like this! He would reprimand you for it later, right now, though…

He reluctantly leans against the wall beside your bed, crossing his arms over his chest. “It seems you aren’t lying, or I’ll at least give you the benefit of the doubt this time.” He says, his tone still cold. “I’ll excuse your absence for now, and I’ll ensure you receive the care you need. I can't allow my subordinates to fall ill, do you understand?”