Lenore's cold grows severe by the time evening arrives. The weather hasn't let up—instead it becomes worse, leading to worries that the nearby villages will flood from the heavy rain. At least it seems like the area is prepared for the excess water flow. It must be a common enough occurrence if that's the case. Still, she hopes that the people living in those areas stay safe.
However, the thoughts leave Lenore's mind as quickly as they appear. Everything hurts, and she can't remember the last time her limbs felt this heavy. She wants a glass of cold water, but every swallow makes her throat hurt more. Next time, she'll listen to Mary and Dame Brina when they tell her to go inside. She just... She wants so badly to show Alaric that she's useful.
The physician has come and gone, prescribing her a bitter blend of herbs for her medicine. While she's already had to drink the concoction once, she thinks that it'll be time to take another dose soon. Her sense of time has struggled since her arrival in Barrowmere with its often cloudy skies, and now her high fever isn't helping her have an easier time figuring out how long has passed.
Viola has taken over caring for her, a rotation that the maids have decided on earlier so that she's not alone while sick. Instead of replacing the now-warm cloth on Lenore's head, Viola helps her sit up. "My lady, it's time to take your medicine."
As much as she doesn't want to, Lenore nods. "Water."
Viola rearranges Lenore's pillows so she can sit comfortably without using the small amount of energy she has. "I'll give you some water after to help wash out the taste of the medicine."
She's young and hasn't been attending to Lenore for long, but Viola already understands what she means without her needing to explain it. Truly, Lily and Viola are gems, and she looks forward to learning about them as they become increasingly comfortable in their roles as junior maids.
With a great degree of unwillingness, Lenore takes the mug filled with her medicine from Viola. Even with the congestion dulling her sense of smell, its pungent scent refuses to be ignored. She brings the mug to her lips and chugs the medicine as quickly as possible, doing her best to ignore the taste. Perhaps not receiving medicine in Rowanhart was a hidden blessing if this is what it tastes like.
Viola is swift to remove the mug when Lenore is finished and replace it with a cool glass of water. It's refreshing, but doesn't feel like enough to quench the thirst of her feverish body.
"Do you think you could eat anything, my lady?" Viola asks. "Even if you have no appetite, your body needs food to fight off your sickness."
"Something soft," Lenore says. The broth from that morning would be okay, but she's not sure if it counts as enough food to help her sickness, as Viola said. "Maybe something with honey?"
Viola's face lights up with a smile. "Yes, my lady! I'll inform the kitchen at once."
After she leaves, it doesn't take long for her to return with a tray from the kitchen, standing it neatly over Lenore's legs. "The chef made a savory rice porridge with vegetables and a sweet porridge with honey for you. He said that his own daughter loves the sweet porridge when she's sick, but his son likes the savory one, so he decided to just make both! Oh, and this mug has some thin broth in case you feel like the porridge is too heavy, while this mug has some milk sweetened with honey for your throat. It should help you sleep, too."
Even though Lenore doesn't have an appetite, the thoughtfulness of the people around her warms her heart. She eats a few mouthfuls of each porridge, then drinks the milk. To her relief, the milk helps soothe her swollen throat. She hasn't eaten much, but it's more than she planned to eat in the first place—which was nothing. Plus, Viola seems pleased.
"Shall I take the tray away?"
Lenore nods, and Viola helps Lenore lie back down before leaving again. True to her words, Lenore feels sleepy. It could be the illness draining her energy, but it could also be the comfort of the warm milk with honey from the chef, along with his consideration and the care he placed in making her meal.
As her eyes slip shut, she wonders if there's a way for her to properly show her gratitude to the people around her in Barrowmere.
The gardens are in full bloom. There's not just roses, but every kind of flower in so many colors that Lenore is sure that she must be looking at a painting. However, this location feels familiar in a way she can't quite describe.
Arms wrap around her waist from behind, and she turns to find Alaric there, a warmth in his eyes that she's never seen before and a smile on his face. "I knew you'd be out here—"
He says a name, but her ears start ringing and she can't hear it. She suspects he didn't say 'Lenore'—but she doesn't know the names of any of his past wives. "What?"
"I said, I knew you'd be out here—"
The ringing in her ears grows louder, accompanied by a sharp pain in her head that makes her clutch it with both hands. "Ugh, my head."
Alaric's happiness turns to concern, and he's speaking again, but she can't hear the words at all. Instead, her world is narrowing as the relentless ringing turns into a screech, the intensity causing her vision to darken at the edges. The strength in her legs vanishes, and she feels herself falling.
Alaric reaches out to her and—
Lenore's eyes snap open with a gasp, and Viola is immediately hovering in her field of vision, panicked.
"My lady! Are you okay?"
Taking a moment to grasp her surroundings, Lenore realizes that she's in her bed chambers in Barrowmere. She doesn't feel quite as awful as she did earlier, but her dreams leave her unsettled in a way that's tough to discern.
"I'm okay," Lenore says. "It's just a dream."