Everyone around Irene tried their best to hide their expressions each time they spoke to her but she could tell when someone was pitying her. She was growing tired of feeling weak. Even her father could barely mask his worry each time he entered the room she was forced to stay in.
That evening, a mage soon arrived and his presence was announced before she could see him.
Stanley, they said his name was, would arrive shortly. She did her best to prop herself up higher on the pillows and not seem so useless.
It seemed that showing the mage that she was alright was the key to getting back to her normal duties. It was miserable being dead weight. She vowed to practice more caution in the future.
There was a knock on Irene's door.
"Please, come in," she called, though the last part of the sentence was punctuated by a couple of coughs—something that had been happening the longer she lay around.
