Mirelah;
I stare at his face. He looks so gentle in sleep. Quiet… almost at peace. Except I know the wars he's fighting underneath.
This peaceful appearance is just a facade. He's in pain, and it's frustrating not to know how to help him.
I move the damp towel over his arms, and Meadow shifts nervously behind me.
I know she's itching to say something, but I've deliberately ignored it all this while, or rather, I've feared what she might say.
It's been three days now. I can't stand to see Kealith like this for much longer. Vealor is enjoying this. Constantly throwing jabs about how I'm a bad wife, and King Damarion and Liriel have taken it upon themselves to crown me as the one responsible for this situation.
I'm scared… Kealith doesn't seem to be getting better. His health seems to be deteriorating, and all the physicians we have called have no idea what is wrong with him.
