That night, a fever gripped me like a silent thief, slipping into my bones without warning. My body burned, sweat sticking to my skin despite the thin sheets draped over me. the room felt stifling, yet every breeze from the open window sent a chill down my spine. My head throbbed dully, like someone had stuffed cotton behind my eyes and lit it aflame.
"Amy…" I murmured weakly, barely able to keep my eyes open.
"I am here, your highness," she said, seated on the edge of my bed with worry etched deeply into her feature. Her brows were furrowed, her lips tight with panic. She reached forward and replaced the warm cloth on my forehead with a fresh, cold one. The moment it touched my skin, I sighed with relief.
She turned sharply to the other maids in the room. "More towels. A bowl of cool water. Now."
The maids scurried like startled birds, each of them responding instantly to Amy's unspoken urgency. She was usually so composed, but tonight, her calm had frayed.
