In the opulent William Estate, a heavy silence shrouded the master bedroom. William sprawled on the bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, his face deathly pale with fatigue. The burden of unspoken worries clung to him like a second skin.
Bertum, the devoted butler, stood by the door, his hands respectfully folded in front of him. "Lord William," he said softly, "your breakfast is served."
"I'm not hungry," William grumbled without raising his arm.
Bertum's face clouded with worry. He advanced, voice stern but gentle. "My lord, you are exhausting yourself. Forgetting meals like this will only make your condition worse. Please… eat something."
William slowly sat up with a tired sigh, rubbing one hand against his temples. He moved slowly, as if even a sitting position took what little strength he had remaining. Bertum observed him warily, concern etched upon his brow.
As William tried to stand up, his body failed him. He fell back against the freezing floor, hacking violently.
