Viserys, as usual, lazed in his room until noon, making sure Illyrio wasn't planning to meet him today. Only then did he get up, wash, and go out.
The hallway had only maids cleaning today.
Viserys went straight to one of them and asked, "Where's the steward?"
"Just a moment, honored guest." The maid put down her work and went to a corner of the stairs, ringing a small bell.
Soon, the steward appeared before Viserys. "Will you be having lunch, honored guest?"
Since the steward brought it up, Viserys didn't hesitate. "Yes."
"Will you be going to the dining hall, or shall it be sent to your room?" The steward posed the same question.
"The dining room," Viserys replied.
The steward nodded. "Please wait in the dining room." He turned and left.
Viserys waited in the hallway for a while, but Daenerys didn't appear.
Ignoring the maid who was silently going back to work, he went straight to Daenerys's door, knocked, and called out, "Daenerys?"
There was no response.
He raised his voice a little. "Daenerys!"
Still no response.
He quickly turned the doorknob.
The door wasn't locked.
Viserys pushed it open.
He wasn't stopped.
"Daenerys, can't you hear me calling you?" His voice was cold, and his eyes quickly scanned the bed.
Fortunately, she was still there.
Daenerys was still lying in bed, looking as if she hadn't woken up.
Viserys leaned closer and saw that Daenerys' face was flushed, her breathing heavy, and she was frowning in a deep sleep.
He reached out and touched her forehead. Daenerys was burning up, as if she had a fever.
She was actually sick?
Perhaps it wasn't a sickness.
Viserys quickly connected Daenerys's current state with the dream from last night, suspecting it was caused by his consumption of the Dragon Soul within the dream. After all, what he devoured might have been a wisp of the Dragon Soul that entered Daenerys's body yesterday.
Viserys retracted his hand, feigning hesitation by the bedside.
He lingered there for a long time, but the maid outside remained unresponsive.
Only then did Viserys get up, walk to the door he'd casually closed upon entering, and open it. He then called out loudly, "Someone, come here!"
The maid who was cleaning the corridor against the wall put down her work and hurried forward. "Ah, esteemed guest, what's wrong?"
Viserys commanded with authority, "Quickly fetch a basin of warm water. My sister is ill!"
The maid hesitated, then replied, "Ah, what are the symptoms? Should I call a healer?"
"Wait a moment," Viserys said, pausing.The medical profession in Westeros belonged to the Maesters of the Citadel. As advisors to the Westerosi nobility, Maesters underwent systematic training at the Citadel, learning about medicine. They were trained to treat common illnesses, and their medical knowledge was likely a bit more advanced than that of the Middle Ages on Earth.In the Free Cities, however, the job of a physician usually fell to empiricists who combined bloodletting, supposed sorcery, and herbal concoctions. Their common treatment for fevers involved bloodletting, using poppy milk to alleviate pain, and letting the patient sleep it off. If that didn't work, there was always enemas, sorcery, and amputation.Now that Daenerys was 'sick,' Viserys wanted to postpone finding a doctor as much as possible. He'd experienced bloodletting on his first day after transmigrating and didn't trust the physician Illyrio might find.The maid didn't say anything more, and said, "Alright."As soon as the maid left, the steward arrived.nThe steward asked, "Annie said something happened here, esteemed guest. Is there anything I can help with?""Help me get some..." Viserys originally wanted to suggest willow bark tea, but stopped himself. He just said, "Hot water, for drinking."Viserys's memory didn't allow him to suggest such a home remedy. The original host knew nothing about treating illnesses. Even when they were sick with a cold, the siblings relied on their youthful bodies to tough it out.
So, he could only try to cool her down physically.
After watching the steward leave, Viserys didn't waste any time. He immediately returned to Daenerys's room and, following the same procedure, took a drop of blood from her finger. Viserys was always careful, only piercing the skin, and the skin on the fingertip healed quickly, leaving no scar.
He did this because, although he already had a guess in mind, he still needed to test and confirm that the Dragon Soul could not be reused.
Before long, a maid brought in a basin of hot water. "What do you need me to do, esteemed guest?"
"Nothing," Viserys tested. "I'll do it myself."
The maid hesitated. "Are you sure, guest?"
Viserys insisted, "I'll do it myself."
The maid didn't press the matter further.
Viserys realized keenly that the maid's attitude seemed to have changed slightly, no longer as proactive.
Whether this was due to the courtyard master's subtle display of coldness, or some other reason, Viserys didn't have time to think about it.
But in any case, this was a good thing.
Secret observation and direct intervention were very different.
This meant his range of operation was greater.
Viserys took the water basin, and casually closed the door. He tried the water temperature, finding it still a bit hot, so he simply poured the lemonade from Daenerys's room's kettle into the basin, and then began to wipe Daenerys's body with a towel.
First was her forehead.
Then came the arm he had touched yesterday.
Then came the other hand.
Finally, the feet.
Viserys couldn't see the source of the anomaly, only that Daenerys wasn't suffering from a normal "fever." Her lips weren't cracked, her heartbeat wasn't particularly fast, and although her breathing was heavy and her brow was furrowed, she didn't seem to be in great pain.
She was just burning up, unconscious, perhaps dreaming.
Of course, it couldn't be ruled out that she had simply passed out from the fever.
Before long, the housekeeper brought in hot water.
Viserys likewise refused the housekeeper's help.
He poured a cup of hot water, blew on it to cool it down to a drinkable temperature, and then tried to give Daenerys some water.
Even though she was unconscious, when water was brought to her lips, she instinctively took small sips, just like swallowing saliva.
When Viserys lifted her up, he found that there wasn't even much sweat on her back.
Daenerys was definitely not sick.
Viserys finally just placed the towel on Daenerys' forehead and then sat quietly by the bed, waiting.
During this time, the steward came to ask about lunch. Viserys had him send it to Daenerys' room. Regarding their doubts about Daenerys' "illness," Viserys only made excuses and told them to go about their business.
Then, without any disturbance – at least on the surface – Viserys began to try to wake Daenerys every so often, while also monitoring her temperature.
After six attempts, Viserys estimated that two hours after he began recording, Daenerys' temperature began to drop noticeably, showing signs of regaining consciousness.
Before he could check for the seventh time, Daenerys had already woken up, her eyes opening softly.
Daenerys opened her eyes and saw Viserys sitting by the bed, his expression concerned. She sat up, the towel on her forehead slipping down. Lowering her eyes, she asked in a small, confused voice, "What's wrong with me?"
"You're sick, Daenerys," Viserys replied. "Don't you feel anything?"
"I don't know." Daenerys was still a little listless. She gathered her thoughts and said softly, "My head hurts a little."
She didn't display the same abnormal fear as yesterday, only a dazed look and a pale face, but she seemed much the same as usual. A headache? Was it from sleeping too much, or was it something else?
Viserys observed her, trying to figure out what was happening to her. "Tell me, Daenerys, did you dream about anything?"
"I don't know." Daenerys answered instinctively. She tried to recall, but the dream was hazy, only fragments remained, difficult to piece together. "I don't remember." Viserys's unusual behavior made her feel uneasy, and she dared to look up and ask, ".Why do you ask?"
Viserys's scrutinizing gaze swept over her, and Daenerys immediately lowered her head, not daring to meet his eyes.
Viserys's thoughts turned, but he didn't pursue the question, instead changing the subject: "You've been asleep all day, are you hungry, Daenerys?"
"..." Daenerys looked up, puzzled.
Viserys explained, "It's afternoon, Daenerys. You've been asleep all day."
Daenerys was incredulous. "How could that be?"
"As I said," Viserys told her, "you're ill." Viserys then asked, "So, are you hungry?"
Daenerys realized her brother seemed concerned about this. She felt her stomach and nodded.
"Good." Viserys seemed satisfied with her answer. He stepped out of the room, calling for the housekeeper to prepare hot food.
Daenerys was puzzled, realizing she had slept all day, and Viserys was acting unusually. Just as she was full of doubts, Viserys returned to the room. Under Daenerys's surprised gaze, he took a piece of dessert and tea from the table and brought them to her bedside. "Have something to tide you over."
This unprecedented display of care left Daenerys bewildered. She wanted to see Viserys's expression but didn't dare look up. She hesitantly reached out, took the food, and didn't dare suggest getting out of bed. She ate small bites, not saying a word.
The room fell silent.
Viserys noticed Daenerys's face flush as she ate, so he reached out to feel her forehead.
Daenerys stopped eating, her neck drawn in, as if she wanted to say something but hesitated.
After confirming that she was just flushed, Viserys asked, "What's wrong?"
Daenerys spoke haltingly, as if asking for permission: "I want... to get up... and wash."
"... " Viserys realized something, his face tightening. He said, "I'll go see how the steward is doing." Then he straightened his clothes and strolled out of Daenerys's room.
Viserys, of course, was not going to see the steward.
Unexpectedly, there was no one in the hallway at this moment.
Viserys began to examine the hallway. The maid's reaction that day had been very quick, and he suspected the place of observation was probably somewhere in the vicinity.
He took the opportunity to wander back and forth in the hallway outside the door, tapping the wall with his fingers as if aimlessly, but unfortunately, he didn't find anything unusual until the butler appeared, pushing the food cart.
Seeing each other in the hallway, the butler was the first to ask, puzzled, "Esteemed guest?"
"I'm waiting for you, butler." Viserys directed the butler to push the small food cart to Daenerys's door.
He knocked casually and simply said, "I'm coming in," before opening the door himself, allowing the butler to deliver the food.
After the butler had finished setting the plates on the table in the room, Viserys naturally sent the butler away and stayed behind.
It was at this moment that Daenerys, her face flushed, walked out of the washroom.
Judging by the look of it, Viserys wasn't planning to leave anytime soon.
....
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