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It wasn’t often that Neuvillette found himself unwell. The Chief Justice of Fontaine was as steadfast as the tides themselves, his calm and composed demeanor rarely wavering. Yet, even the strongest storms could falter, and today, it seemed, was Neuvillette’s turn to succumb.
The signs had been subtle at first—a barely noticeable pallor, a faint hesitation in his usually fluid movements—but Wriothesley had a keen eye. The Duke of Meropide prided himself on observing the smallest shifts in behavior, a skill honed by years of managing Fontaine’s most notorious prison. And today, as Neuvillette stood at the edge of the Fountain of Lucine, gazing at the waters with a faraway look, Wriothesley decided enough was enough.
"You look like you’re about to fall in," Wriothesley called, his deep voice cutting through the tranquil sounds of the fountain. He approached, his black coat billowing slightly in the wind.
Neuvillette turned, his usual serene expression faltering for a moment. "Wriothesley," he greeted, his voice softer than usual, a slight rasp betraying his condition. "What brings you here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Wriothesley countered, crossing his arms. "But judging by how you’re swaying on your feet, I’m guessing it’s not for a stroll."
Neuvillette opened his mouth to protest, but a sudden cough betrayed him. He turned his head away, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.
"Thought so." Wriothesley closed the distance between them in a few strides, placing a steadying hand on Neuvillette’s shoulder. "You’re burning up. Have you been working yourself to death again?"
"It’s nothing serious," Neuvillette replied, his tone as measured as always, though it was clear he was struggling to maintain it.
"Right, because the Chief Justice collapsing in public would definitely inspire confidence in Fontaine’s legal system." Wriothesley’s tone was dry, but there was a hint of genuine concern beneath it. "Come on, let’s get you somewhere warm."
Neuvillette didn’t resist as Wriothesley guided him toward a nearby carriage. The ride back to the Duke’s quarters in the Fortress of Meropide was quiet, save for the occasional murmur from Wriothesley as he checked on Neuvillette.
Once they arrived, Wriothesley wasted no time settling Neuvillette on a plush couch in his office. The normally austere space had been made unexpectedly cozy, with a roaring fire casting flickering shadows on the stone walls.
"You really didn’t need to go to all this trouble," Neuvillette said, though his protest was weak. He leaned back against the cushions, his usual poise giving way to exhaustion.
"Yeah, yeah. Let me guess—you’d rather suffer in silence in your fancy office?" Wriothesley shot back, heading to a small cabinet. He returned with a steaming mug of tea, placing it in Neuvillette’s hands.
Neuvillette regarded the tea with mild surprise. "I didn’t take you for a tea connoisseur."
"I’m full of surprises," Wriothesley replied, sitting across from him. "Now drink. You can lecture me about legal statutes later."
A faint smile tugged at Neuvillette’s lips as he sipped the tea. The warmth spread through him, easing the chill that had settled in his bones.
For a while, they sat in companionable silence. Wriothesley busied himself with paperwork, occasionally glancing up to ensure Neuvillette wasn’t attempting to slip away.
"You’re quite diligent," Neuvillette observed, his voice quieter now, but lacking the rasp from earlier.
"And you’re bad at taking care of yourself," Wriothesley retorted without looking up.
Neuvillette chuckled softly, the sound almost startling in its rarity. "Perhaps I owe you my thanks, then."
"You can thank me by resting," Wriothesley said, finally meeting Neuvillette’s gaze. His expression softened. "Fontaine can survive a day or two without you, you know."
Neuvillette didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he allowed himself to relax further, his usually rigid posture easing. "Perhaps you’re right," he admitted. "Just this once."
Wriothesley smirked. "Good. Because if you pass out again, I’m dragging you straight to Sigewinne next time."
As the fire crackled and the storm within Neuvillette began to settle, the two men shared a moment of quiet understanding.