"R—Right away, Your Majesty!" She scrambled to her feet, hurrying back toward the kitchen without another word.
Ada instinctively gripped the edge of the mattress, struggling to sit up once more. "I must go and assist her—"
"There is no need for that," Lumiel's exasperated voice halted her in her tracks. "I presume Regina has been the one preparing your meals since you fell ill?"
Ada offered a slight, weak nod.
"We would usually prepare our meals together, but this past month has proven... complicated for me," she said, guilt creeping in her hoarse voice.
"I can easily see that," Lumiel replied, his gaze sweeping over her pallid complexion and frail physique.
He narrowed his eyes, examining her with a stare. "When exactly did this sickness begin?"
