Lancelot got straight to the point. "Come with me to the academy hospital. The Fenrir family will cover all the expenses. If there's anything else you need, you can tell me."
Eli was in no condition to entertain the offer. His body ached, his head felt heavy, and even standing upright required more effort than he could spare. He stared at Lancelot with exhausted resentment, his voice cold and rough as he replied, "Get out."
Eli tried to close the door and return to bed, but before he could shut Lancelot out, the adjutant braced himself against it, preventing him from retreating.
Lancelot's gaze lingered on Eli's dry, chapped lips. The small wounds scattered across them did not look like ordinary cracks caused by dehydration. They resembled bite marks, and the sight made him hesitate before asking a question that had suddenly come to mind.
"Have you cleaned yourself up?"
Eli frowned. "Of course."
