For a little bit, everything seemed like it would be alright, Solomon talking softly and allowing her to gently wipe his face and start at his neck and shoulders. Zephyra felt as he tensed, but at least he was staying. “Perhaps I am m’lord, but I have found that it is nice to have hope, even if it is only for a short while. Besides, you have had the fever for a while, it only makes sense that with the help of the medicine, it should break soon.” There was obviously a good chance that it wouldn’t, but there was an equally good chance that it would.

It was as she had reached his chest that his near panicked command came. It was expected really and she had been amazed she had been allowed to do as much as she had. But she was also grateful that some had managed to get done. Heart strings were tugged though, seeing the way that he drew away from her, his sentence slightly stuttered out. And for the first time, she wondered if it wasn’t so much that the man didn’t care for touch, as he was afraid of it. No doubt from his capture? The others savored it, except Heinrey who couldn’t make up his mind if he did or didn’t.

“As you wish,” she softly responded, placing the cloth down and watching him as he struggled to gain his composure. The woman desperately wanted to be able to make it so he was completely comfortable and clean, but it was obvious now that even attempting to do it anymore in this moment would be unwise. Her solution was to give him a small amount of space and she stood slowly. “If you wouldn't mind, stay here for just a moment.” She highly doubted he had collected enough energy to get up without needing another minute or so.

Taking the basin, she made her way to the now very familiar bathroom and emptied it, refilling it with fresh cool water. But this time she grabbed an entire towel and pressed it in, leaving it there to soak while she grabbed a glass of water. Zephyra made the trek across the room to place the glass down on the table for him before moving away again. This time, she grabbed two extra candles and lit them, bringing those over as well so there would be more light in the area. The hope was if things were brighter, perhaps whatever shadows haunted him in his sleep would seem farther away.

“When I was a girl, I remember getting sick a few times,” Zeph began as she made her way back to the bathroom and returned with the basin and soaked towel. She eased down to sit in front of him, though she made sure he was able to have a personal space bubble. “It was never fun, but my parents always gave me something to enjoy and look forward to. They would spend hours reading stories to me, and I was allowed the privilege of curling up in the living room. My mother would bring me some cookies and tea, things I wasn’t allowed very often. And every day I was sick, my father would bring me a small present to give me something to look forward to after a long day of not feeling well.”

She spoke to distract him, telling him the first thing that came to mind. He would never hear about what went on behind the walls of her room and his brother’s rooms... those were things she tried to forget and that held no value to her to be stories. But she had many wonderful stories to share about when things were... different. And those were things she was willing to tell, small glimpses into where she came from and who she was, though not the intention of why she did talk.

Her story stopped as she reached for the towel and rung it out. “Why don’t we try this before you lay back down again?” she offered, leaning a little closer to him with the cool damp towel. Her eyes were soft as she gingerly draped the edges over his shoulder so his whole torso was covered. It dripped slightly on the couch, getting it wet, but she paid that no mind. “If you find the strength, all you have to do is place your hand on top of the towel where you wish and rub. It won’t be as effective but it should help some.” She offered a soft smile and moved back out of his space again.

Solomon took a breath as she pulled away and gave him some space, happy that she hadn’t pushed at that moment. He knew he wouldn’t have taken it well and he wasn’t looking to yell at her because of something so ridiculous. He was aware that he was mentally unsound and wasn’t thinking straight, as every emotion he had seemed to have magnified tenfold. Solomon was overly sensitive and hated that he was, but he also knew he just needed some time to rest and get over it. Because at the end of the day, he was still human and could break, even if he usually seemed like an unstoppable force.

He was about to brave the trip back to bed when she asked him to wait. Seeing as walking seemed like a daunting task, Solomon reluctantly obliged. He sipped hesitantly at the water she brought for him, not because he was suspicious, but because it was all incredibly awkward and he didn’t feel well. Previously, Solomon hadn’t minded any of the awkwardness between them, but now that he was in such an embarrassing position it was hard not to fidget. But Solomon held himself together the best he could, taking drinks of the water to help calm his nerves.

He tilted his head in her direction as she began to talk, but his curiosity stemmed as she came back with a basin. Was she going to try and push him? He wasn’t sure he could take it. But for a while, she didn’t move, instead giving him a snippet of what her life used to be. Such stories had always intrigued the young prince, yet for some reason, they also gave him a rather… dark feeling. It was always ignored, as it was now, but they were never exactly pleasant. So, Solomon pushed it to the back of his mind per usual, focusing on her words as a distraction.

The man blinked, somewhat stunned as she offered a much larger towel this time, placing it over his torso. Solomon simply allowed it to rest on his body. It was cold and he was certainly feeling cold, but it relieved much of the tension in his muscles, so he permitted it to stay. He would allow himself these few moments before returning to his bed, where hopefully better sleep awaited him. All he could do was hope that nightmares didn’t plague him. “I was never sick very often, but I guess that when I was, my experience was often what someone would consider “pleasant”...”

Solomon didn’t disclose much about his life very often, but the distraction in the form of conversation was readily accepted at that moment. “My mother would care for us whenever we were sickly. And when she needed to leave briefly for her duties, Luther would take her place. I suppose the company of family was nice.” His storytelling certainly wasn’t extraordinary and was bland if anything, but he did have a tendency to be socially inept. “The one time I fell ill at one of our camps he was quite like a mother hen. He was quite father-like.”

Solomon had seemed rather indifferent, but he missed his brother deeply. Because Luther had been his role-model, sibling, and parent, all in one. Not to mention their family unit had been so tight-knit back then. Now, all that remained was a faint echo of what used to be. The time when they had been close, and trusted each other immensely, instead of arguing at every turn. “I assume that Josef tries to do the same to our younger siblings, but he has proved to be a much more… abrasive nurse.” There was the faintest upturn of his mouth’s corners at the end of his statement, but far too little to be considered a smile.

He did not find humor in things often, but Solomon was highly amused, secretly of course, by him and his brother scuffle a few days ago, in which the older sibling had stormed off covered in medication. “I should get back to bed. It is clearly an ungodly hour.” Solomon told her softly, reaching up to peel the towel off his body. Surprisingly enough, he somewhat folded it, even though it would have to be hung to dry, and leaned over to set it on the table. “You should rest as well, Zephyra. I’ll be fine.” With that, the man started the ever-slow process of standing so he could return to his own area.

She was pleased that he allowed the towel and settled back to keep an eye on him. As he began to speak, she listened intently, pushing a few strands that had fallen from her ponytail back. And what he had to say did interest her, hearing a little about his past. He spoke little about it, but when he did, she discovered it always had to do with Luther. And it wasn’t that Solomon necessarily showed emotion regarding the deceased brother either, but she got the picture by how often he came into their few conversations. He had meant a great deal to the young prince.

She knew what it felt like. She would always know the painfully raw sensation of losing a loved one. The loss and never being able to grieve. But it seemed the prince was never really given a chance to grieve either, something they had in common, if it really counted for anything considering. But she did not comment, allowing Luther to be a safe place of speech that would not be commented on.

At the mention of Josef as a nurse, Zeph too couldn’t resist smiling softly. His own lips shifted in the slightest, perhaps the closest she believed she would ever get to seeing him smile. “He was a mess when he came to me,” she noted, head tilting as she let out a small breath, the closest to a laugh she had gotten since her capture. The woman paused to oversee that he was alright as he took the towel off and slowly lifted himself. She stood as well, though simply moved to the side to allow him to pass and make his own way, every ready to assist him if necessary.

Reaching out, she collected the towel as he made his way, returning to what she had been going to tell him. “Your brother came barging into my room in quite the flurry.” Zeph never mentioned Cyrus or what she had been doing... that was not important to the story. “You coated the front of his shirt quite well in medicine and there he was standing in my door way, flustered as I’ve never seen him before,” she released the softest of amused huffs, head shaking. “He was desperate enough to ask me if I would help you.” Another shake of her head as she walked over to the bathroom and laid the towel out to dry. “I would border it on imploring.” It never dawned on her that she had admitted that Josef had not ordered her to come... that this really was all by her own choice. Though it could easily be assumed that this was just an escape for her, which ended up just being an appreciated privilege of showing the prince some kindness.

Filling another glass, she brought it over to his nightstand and placed it down, easing herself onto the edge one more time to very gingerly place her palm to his forehead. But she did not linger, not looking to make him too uncomfortable. Her hopes were high and she lifted her gaze to his. “I do believe you are correct m’lord and will be fine.” Her soft smile stayed as the gorgeous hazel eyes met amber ones that glowed rather stunningly in the dark.

“Rest well m’lord,” she offered as she stood, her look genuine as she dipped her head with grace, a piece of her shining through. Zephyra returned to the sofa, the side Solomon had been on damp from his sweat and the middle slightly wet from the towel. Not that she minded too much, curling up in her corner, still not having grabbed the comforter. This time it had simply slipped her mind, having grown accustomed of being without the last few days.

“If your fever has broken by morning, I will gladly draw you a bath and even allow you your robe. Perhaps incentive for you to get well.” The phrase was simply thrown in his gentle direction, teasing in a way to try and help finish breaking the tension of the panic he had been in. Clearly he could not get better simply because he willed and wanted it, but it was meant to amuse, not logically sound. Though after that, she made no more attempts to speak, bending over to blow out the two candles by her and closing her eyes.

The stomach cramps were what woke Solomon, the man releasing a soft moan in protest as he rolled over in his bed. A pillow was grabbed from the head and tucked into his torso. He buried his nose into the dark pillowcase, eyes squeezing shut as he wished he had just slept through the pain. He was hungry and nauseous all at once. He planned on just waiting it out and maybe fall back asleep since he had long-since learned food wasn’t his friend. Solomon had adjusted to his sickness, but it didn’t make it any easier. It merely helped him tolerate it.

The medicine had thoroughly knocked him unconscious the night previous, so he supposed that was a plus side of that disgusting, bile-like liquid. Solomon’s sleep had thankfully been dreamless and the nightmare was nothing more than a bad memory that had only become fainter. He hadn’t forgotten his terror, but the gruesome details had already faded, leaving him relatively fine considering his former panic-stricken state. But he was groggy and his mind was slow, as he was sure that was one of its effects and he hadn’t completely slept it off.

On the bright side, his headache was pretty much gone. How long that would last, Solomon was unsure, but all he could currently feel was a very, very dull throbbing, borderline unnoticeable. So for once, when he opened his eyes, he didn’t feel as if it stressed his aching cranium. He assumed it would come back when the medication wore off. Solomon was surprised it had lasted that long, but then again, it had been both a string and large dose. So perhaps it wasn’t so surprising at all and he supposed he should be grateful for the temporary relief.

But would he take the medicine again? That was certainly up for debate, but after the nightmare, Solomon was obviously open to some change. Because if sleep meant nightmares and the medicine would prevent those, there was a chance he would start taking it. He may have been the type that would face any threat that came his way, but an attack on his mind was an entirely different story. That Solomon didn’t think he could handle, not in a million years. Memories weren’t meant to attack you. Not after you had spent so much time burying them meticulously.

Solomon unfurled and leaned on an unsteady elbow to grab the glass of water Zephyra had left for him. The liquid felt amazing on his dry throat and it was gone in no time, the glass clinking against his nightstand as he set it down. And that was all the action he took at the moment, curling back into a fetal position beneath his sheet, face buried back into his pillow. The water had been nice, but it didn’t do enough to satisfy his hunger. Such things were bound to happen when you vomited up what little you ate for over a week. He had begun to notice the deterioration in his own physique.

But it was when he started to cough that Solomon was forced to rise, the sheet falling into his lap as he sat up against the headboard to try and put a stop to it. A hand came up to his mouth to stifle his hacking, which had begun to hurt his chest. He cursed softly as fingers came up to run through his hair, which had never been messier, as he tried to catch his breath. Solomon’s stomach clenched and growled in protest as if to add insult to injury. An arm came down to tighten around his torso as the other reached for the glass, only to find it empty with a sigh

It was in those moments a rather foolish plan formed, but it was better than his current state. With his head feeling better, Solomon felt better, so he decided a bath would be in order. Of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to make it a hot one, but filling the tub with room-temperature water? He was willing to do that. So, determined and wanting the hell out of his covers, Solomon slipped from his covers to begin what was going to be an extremely long journey to his bathroom in search of his coveted cleanliness.

He visited the bathroom a couple times a day to use the bathroom and of course, Zephyra was there to tail him until he was safely in there. Solomon had no doubt she wouldn’t approve of his plan, but he didn’t care. He would draw the bath himself. At first, he had the bedposts for support, but soon enough he was left on his own, which included stumbling and using things that certainly didn't support his weight to get himself there. But, somehow he managed, stumbling across his room and causing several things to sway or slide across the floor.

Once he was in the bathroom it was easier, as the man was able to use his vanity for support. Solomon reached for the faucet and did his best to estimate for it, as his sense of heat was warped due to his fever. The bath wasn’t going to be a great one, but it would be better than continuing to lay unbathed for any longer. Granted, there would probably be a lack of soap since he couldn’t exactly wash himself, but it was better than nothing. The man sat on his toilet while he waited, as his balance was rather warped.

Zephyra was finally getting some sleep herself, having drifted in and out for quite a while to make sure he was alright and that the medicine was working. How long she was caught in the unfortunate pattern of sleep, she did not know, but eventually she found herself content enough with his condition to fully fall asleep. It was arguably the best sleep she had gotten the whole time he had been in her care, which made it the best sleep she had gotten in a very long time. And while from the outside all the circumstances were not ideal, she was grateful for them nonetheless.

His moan had pulled her some from her sleep, but it wasn’t until he actually started his coughing fit that hazel eyes blinked open. Sitting up slowly she ran a hand over her eyes, glancing towards Solomon to see what was going on. Had the fever broken? A slender hand reached up to push the stray strands from her face while she watched him, all seeming still for a moment. Though she did quickly hone in on the empty glass, swinging her legs so her feet touched the cool floor.

It was then that Solomon decided to struggle to his feet, managing it and starting his stumbling path towards the bathroom. She assumed it was the usual and quietly grabbed the glass and followed behind, though allowing him to manage it himself. He was precarious, but she wanted to offer him the chance to keep some of his pride. The two had managed to kind of figure it out really. She was allowed to hover and he was allowed to do things for himself. In turn, she would get him his water and occasionally wipe his face.

It worked. And she expected this time to be no different. Except it was in that as she waited outside the door, looking over the glass, she heard the tell-tale sound of the tub running. “M’lord?” The woman eased towards the door, rapping lightly on it. She had nothing against him taking a bath, the idea that he could finally get clean like she knew he wanted a nice one. But he was also weak and he ran many risks if he tried to take one without supervision.

“Are you decent, m’lord?” She waited a moment before gingerly opening the door, gaze to the ground and finding his feet, relieved to see the ends of his pants. Lifting her eyes up, she offered a gentle smile and walked to fill up the glass. She placed it on the counter beside him before moving towards the filling tub, reaching a hand to feel the water as it filled. Quietly she reached up and adjusted the faucet only slightly, cooling it down slightly. “I am glad to see you have the energy for a bath. I know you have been wanting one.” It was then that she took the opportunity to gently touch his forehead, disappointed to find that he still had the fever.

Walking a bit away, she opened one of the cabinets and pulled out two towels and brought them over, placing them on the counter. “I’m afraid I am going to have to stay with you m’lord,” Zeph finally spoke, fingers playing with one of the large pieces of cloth. “It is unwise for you to stay here alone.” She truthfully felt bad for it, wishing she could offer him a chance to relax in privacy but the risk was too great not to be there. If he slipped or fell unconscious, not to mention the very probable chance that he would need help getting out.

Lifting one of the towels she offered it to him. “If it will help m’lord, I can leave and you can use this to cover yourself.” It was a genuine offer to try and make it so he could fully relax and still feel somewhat decent, though she had a feeling that it still would not make him happy. But she would try. “They will also be bringing more medicine for you later and probably a plate of food if you would care to try when you are done.”

Solomon didn’t answer as she knocked on the door, his gaze only sweeping over in her direction before he went back to watching the bathtub. Unfortunately, she invited herself in. Eyes watched as she touched the faucet, but didn’t move to stop her. She was the only one out of the two of them that could make sure he wasn’t roasting himself so he allowed it. His brow furrowed as she reached out towards his head and he continued to stare at the tub, paying her little heed. Hopefully, she would be satisfied and decide to leave him alone. He’d had no privacy since she’d arrived and he loathed every bit of it.

And to be fair, Solomon didn’t have the energy for a bath. It was a desperate act to feel as if he was in control of something about himself since everything felt as if it were crumbling. He knew he looked like a mess, scruffy, sweaty, and disgusting by all means. He was well overdue for a shave and his hair, although still semi-short, looked like hell. He just wanted to feel some semblance of cleanness again. The prince could not wait until he was able to just take a quick shower again and shave his face clean of what was now a heavy stubble. He just wanted to feel like his usual self again.

Not to mention he just wanted to be left alone. Granted, Zephyra was the type to keep to herself, but she had been hovering, just like she was now. It took a lot of his patience not to snap at her half the time, but Solomon had noticed how she tended to flinch away whenever he did so and avoided it. He wasn’t trying to scare her, just get her the hell out of his space. He was extremely private and someone who cherished his alone time. Giving it up to spend time with a prostitute who was proving to be worse than a mother hen when it came to his health had not been on his bucket list.

But when she said she would be staying with him, his resolve to keep his cool with her almost snapped like a twig. Dangerous eyes flickered in her direction and glittered with barely harnessed fury. He was aware it wasn’t wise to take a bath at all, but she was intending to watch him? Like he was a child? Solomon gritted his teeth, about to abandon the whole prospect and just go back to bed so he could spend the day ignoring her. He felt so dirty though… if he went any longer like this, he was convinced he would go mad.

A strangled noise nearly escaped him as she held up the towel. His eyes would have burnt holes through it if they could. There was absolutely no way he was going to lay in that tub, naked, with a towel scarcely covering him, while she sat mere feet away. That was not an option. Not in a thousand years. “Unfortunately, while you may find yourself able to handle being on display, I do not.” Solomon’s voice was venomous, though he kept a low tone, “So apparently, next time I’ll need to lock the door to even have some semblance of privacy.”

“And this is my room, in case you’ve forgotten, since you seem to believe you have the right to impede on my space.” Due to his long arms, the man was thankfully able to reach over and shut the faucet off once the tub was full. Now, all he needed to do was get in it, even though he already knew it was going to be extremely uncomfortable and possibly not even worth it, but he was too stubborn to back down. Her statement about food and medicine was all but disregarded, as his mood had quickly grown foul and it was no doubt about to get worse.

The man got to his feet and was surprisingly steadier, which was rather nice. Now all he needed to do was get into the tub. The towel she offered him got no more than a disdainful glance, or perhaps it had been aimed at her, who knew at that point. It was incredibly risky, getting into the tub, as he had to lift his legs higher than they should have been going and balancing on top of that. On top of that, he would have refused any help offered, so by the time he was standing in the tub, he was already exhausted and he had only awoken mere minutes ago.

Yes, he left his pants on, with the waist sash and all. As said before, he wasn’t stripping down. Not in front of her, not in front of anybody. Solomon’s descent into the tub wasn’t graceful either. The man nearly fell and although he made it safely into a sitting position, water sloshed up and over the sides of the tub, splashing all over the tile and rug. The man didn’t even care at that point. Silently, he stretched his legs out and crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, and sunk into the water. For as casual as he looked in that moment, no one could have guessed that he loathed every minute of it.

She could tell almost immediately that her presence was not welcomed, and she understood that he did not want her hovering over him as much as she did. But Zephyra was torn, as she had been from the beginning. She could leave him to his own devices as he wished, but she knew he did need the attention that he hated. The occasional wipe of his face, bringing him fresh water, and other such small things were what mainly constituted the hovering, and in general, making sure he didn’t face plant to the ground. And Solomon had been taking it well, and she had respected that enough to keep it to the minimum.

But it was clear this was the breaking point of his tolerance as she tried to offer him privacy for his bath, and yet he did not see it that way. His venomous words hit her rather full force and she could not hide the surprise and pain that flashed through her eyes before her gaze fell to her wrists. Handle it... there were far worse alternatives if she didn’t handle it. Things he would probably never know or care to know. She handled it because she had to. She had learned that the hard way. But she hated it as much, if not more than the man who claimed his cared for it more.

“Forgive me m’lord, I meant no harm towards you or your space...” her gaze had moved towards the ground as she took a step back as if that would actually help the situation. Hazel eyes only peeked slightly from under her lashes as he moved, making sure he would be okay, feeling somewhat guilty as he went into the tub with his pants on. She flinched only slightly when he more of dropped in that slid, water splashing as he did and it was her pitiful attempt to avoid getting wet.

Quietly she re-folded the towel and placed it up on the counter with the other, fingers brushing against the cool marble that it was made of. She still knew it was important that she be there and keep an eye on him but... “I am unaccustomed to this, I am sorry m’lord. It has been a long time since propriety was required of me.” Absently her hand fell to rub at her wrist as she turned her back to his to try and offer him more privacy, as if he would really feel better.

Her head was down as she tried to figure out what to do... he would need help out of the tub, surely. Or at least someone near so he didn’t slip. But how could she help when he didn’t allow it? She couldn’t leave and she couldn’t stay. The softest of defeated sighs escaped her as her eyes closed, one hand reaching up to push the annoying strands of hair from her face. If she could just cut it... she shut the thoughts out as soon as them came, trying to refocus on helping Solomon and not the pain he had pulled from her hidden wounds with his simple words.

Without a word, she left the bathroom long enough to pull the rope for assistance, glancing constantly into the bathroom to keep an eye on him. When someone arrived, she met them at the door, quietly asking for some easy dishes for the stomach and another dose of medication. With that done, she returned back to the bathroom, standing in the doorway with her eyes downcast. “I have ordered you a simple meal in case you care to try eating... and more medicine to help keep the dreams away.”

Solomon watched through narrowed eyes as she turned her back to him, resisting a huff of indignance. It wasn’t as if it improved the situation, though he didn’t comment. The man could give her that for trying, but it didn’t mean his mood lightened whatsoever. No, he was still bitter, so he sat there in silence. There was a lack of their usual awkward conversation, which always consisted of long, silent pauses and contradictory statements, as they never seemed to agree on anything. But in all honesty, those conversations were the most he ever talked to someone and it suddenly felt odd not to have them.

Not that he missed it, but it just left them with a different atmosphere that allowed him to focus on how awful the bath was. Yes, awful. His pants and silky sash clung to his body in a way that felt uncomfortable. The water was cold, no doubt to help with the fever, but it made him feel even more frigid and he shivered the whole time, possibly even more than he did regularly. But Solomon couldn’t deny that he would probably feel better once he was dry, even if right now he was arguably the most miserable he had been during the whole sick affair, even if his headache had yet to return.

The one thing he did take advantage of was the opportunity to scrub the sweat out of his hair. Solomon was able to bend over enough to both get water in and scrub the short, inky strands. It felt rather blissful and for those couple minutes, he was able to forget about everything. When he flipped his hair back and his eyes caught sight of her exiting, Solomon grimaced and again said nothing, instead enjoying his brief sliver of privacy. Of course, as expected, it didn’t last long, as she re-entered soon enough and stared at the floor as if the rug’s fibers were exquisite.

Solomon stiffened at the mention of the nightmare, as he wasn’t exactly looking to remember how he’d had a complete and utter breakdown. “The medication isn’t some magic substance that sends the “dreams” away. That was simply a result of the fever. I doubt it will happen again, with or without the help of medicine.” The prince finally spoke, draping one of his arms over the side of the tub. Although the water was still cold, he was getting used to the temperature, which made it more bearable. He ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the beginnings of a beard with disdain.

“You can sit down if you’d prefer since you’ve made it clear you won’t be leaving unless I carry you out myself.” It was Solomon’s way of conceding defeat, even if he was bitter about it, “I’m still clothed, so that means there isn’t anything for me to hide or a reason for you to have to stand there with your back turned.” The man reached for the sash that was tied at his side and reluctantly undid the knot, not wanting to ruin the silvery fabric, but also not wanting to reveal more skin. As it was removed the bottom half of his dark torso was exposed, leaving him in only the darker pants.

The sash was deposited on the floor beside the tub and he had to admit that it did feel better with that article removed, but there was no way in hell he’d go so far as to remove his pants. Not with her in there. “You should be ordering food for yourself as well, Zephyra.” Solomon spoke, staring at the ceiling, which was a rather boring beige in color compared to the rest of the room's extravagance, “Since I cannot exactly do that for you at the moment.” At last, there seemed to be no malice in his tone, as he had given up for the time being. There was no use snapping over her presence at the moment. As he had said, she wasn’t going to leave.

Solomon sighed and let his head fall back, dark strangs dripping from when he’d soaked them. “Or you can always eat my meal when it arrives if you don’t want to order for yourself. I’m sure my stomach won’t be able to handle it and I’m not looking to vomit.” He admitted, eyes closing, “It would probably be wise to remain only drinking water for a little while longer. Perhaps once this fever breaks the nausea will fade as well.” It was rather positive thinking from him for once, as the man was getting to the point where his hunger pains were more prominent and his stomach had an incessant habit of growling.

At his mention of the medicine in relation to dreams she nodded softly, “My apologies m’lord. I only worded it in such a way since it helps with sleep.” Her hand moved to rest against her waist, fingers running over the simple fabric that she was going to later be upset over having to give up, though no one would ever know. But at least it seemed that Solomon was relaxing a little bit and he had had enough strength to wash his hair. She had made sure the water was cool and hoped by submerging his head, it would help with the fever.

When he spoke again, her eyes lifted gingerly, glancing over at the toilet. It was clear he was calling his own defeat but the woman still hesitated, unsure. She knew he was clothed enough, and she had seen his torso already but after his vehement reminder that he did not want her in his space, she didn’t want to test him. He had reminded her just how dirty and vile she was, her hand tightening around the shirt she wore before she quietly nodded and moved to sit at his bidding.

The mention of food made her tilt her head some, but less so for content of speech as he seemed to have calmed himself down. “I have eaten some m’lord,” she told him, though knew that could be considered an overstatement. The woman had had very little besides a roll or two in the whole time she was there. Not that it had affected her too much, her body used to the odd food schedule, even though most of the time she was with Solomon before, he made sure she had plenty to eat, the only reason her form had filled back into its healthy and more natural curves.

At the offer to eat his food, she shook her head, “That will not be necessary. I will save it in case you feel better sooner and if not, I can always order something smaller and fresh.” Would she probably order something for herself? No, chances were not. “But since you are feeling better, for the moment I agree it would be best to let your stomach rest. Once the fever does break, eating will be much easier for you.” Her lips lifted in the slightest, “And I think that will be soon.”

Again she was on her feet, collecting the towels as she grabbed a small table and pulled it over for him, though never once did she look at him. Instead, she moved it into his reach and laid the towels down on top. Without speaking she also struggled to move one of the rugs closer so when he did decide to get out, there would be a surface he could steady himself on. It was her way of attempting to makes as many things as possible easier for him so he could be more independent of her.

“When you are ready to get out, you can steady yourself on the table and there are some towels to help you dry off.” Coming up with an idea, she left the bathroom for a moment to go to his clothes, pulling out a fresh pair of pants and bringing them back, laying them on the table as well. Taking one of the towels, she laid it across the toilet and finally took a step back to see if the set-up would work. Hopefully... hopefully this time she could actually do something that could help the man and that he would accept.

“If this works for you m’lord, once you are out, I can leave the bathroom so you can change.” Her gaze was once again pinned down as she spoke, as if trying to prove she really did not want to infringe on his privacy. She was ready to leave as soon as he was out, or just stay nearby until he was ready.

Solomon’s brow furrowed slightly as their brief conversation about food continued, lips pressing into a flat line for a moment as he thought. “Unfortunately Zephyra, I don’t quite believe your claim that you’ve eaten. For someone who seems so concerned about my health, you seem to be disregarding yours.” It wasn’t as if he was truly worried about her, because he didn’t worry about anyone, including himself, it was just a speculation. The man had nothing but time on his hands due to his sickness and although he wasn’t staring at the woman all day, his ears were certainly listening to whatever was happening in his room.

Which meant he knew she hadn’t really been eating. “I would take advantage of this alone time because I’m aware you don’t have it often. You have access to whatever dishes you desire as long as you are here. Perhaps it would be wise to utilize such tools.” Solomon suggested, but knew she was the type to just smile and nod. Perhaps say yes to him. Though he knew she probably wouldn’t do anything on her own. The man may not have known a lot about her personally, but there were some behaviors he understood at that point in time.

“Although, if you don’t eat, I will order something for you myself. I don’t want Josef to scold me for not making sure you were fed and caused you to drop in weight.” Solomon told her, gaze drifting over the final product of her setup, which he probably would have given some words of approval if he wasn’t grasping at the shards of his pride… and arrogance. He wanted nothing more than for her to give up and leave, but it seemed her determination to stay was a rather stubborn one and he was going to be stuck with her until he was well, but that still didn’t mean he had fully accepted that fate yet.

For a while longer the man soaked, but the water was just getting colder. Deciding it was time to get out, the man heaved himself to his feet. Not without a struggle, of course, but it was clear movement was growing easier again, even if he was still unsteady. It didn’t mean the fever was broken yet, but it was a hopeful sign that he was on the mend. Even if it was a slow recovery process, Solomon would accept a recovery. The man let out a small sigh of relief once he was steady and stepped out of the tug. The water dripped off of him almost immediately soaked the carpet below him.

“I’ll change, so some privacy would be appreciated” Solomon spoke gruffly and waited for her to leave. Once the door was shut, the man sat atop the towel that had been spread over the toilet seat and began what was going to be a difficult and embarrassing process. Removing his pants didn’t come easy, as they were wet and he was having trouble bending over. But eventually, he got them peeled off and they were a soaked pile on the floor with the sash, leaving him to pull on the others. Because his legs were wet, the process wasn’t fun either, but in the end, he got them on, even if the rest of his body was still more than damp.

Solomon didn’t waste his energy drying the rest of himself, as he was already tired and ready to return to his bed. The man was still shivering, perhaps even worse due to the cold bath, but he was cleaner than he’d been since the start of his ill fiasco, so the man was somewhat satisfied with the outcome. He would’ve much preferred to wear his sash again, as it covered more of his torso, but it was soaked and he didn’t have the energy to grab another. So, he exited the bathroom still dripping and with wet spots on his new pants, well somewhat pants. They cut off a little higher than midways at his calf. They were more like a longer pair of shorts than anything.

Soon enough, he exited the bathroom. “Don’t worry about cleaning up, it's not a big deal. I already managed to pull the drain.” The journey back to his bed was not a fun one, to say the least. It went from uncomfortable to worse. He shuffled along the tile in efforts not to trip over his own wetness, but at some point, the man slipped. Solomon did catch himself on a display case, but as he did so, its decorative edge sliced into his palm, causing the man to wince and curse. It wasn’t deep, but it still hurt. The man groaned in frustration as he dripped crimson onto the floor, his other hand moving to clutch it. This was just perfect, wasn’t it?

At that moment, there was a knock at the door, causing him to flinch again, as he hadn’t expected it. For a moment, he glared in its direction as if considering answering it, but instead he only snarled and finished walking, or stumbling rather, to his bed. Solomon snagged a rag that Zephyra had left on his nightstand, no doubt from when he had been trying to wet him down, and roughly wiped off his hand before again seeking solace in his sheet simply because he was humiliated by his fragility, despite the fact he would only soak through the silky fabric that covered him.