Chapter Text
Cale didn’t mean to fall asleep at the dining table.
Honestly, it wasn’t his fault that he'd only gotten three hours of sleep last night trying to read through a stack of nobility reports. Or that he skipped breakfast. Or that he might have forgotten to take off his muddy cloak after inspecting the outer estate walls in the rain.
Minor details.
What was important was that when he blinked awake with his face stuck to the table and a cold sheen of sweat on his forehead… he knew something was wrong.
His body felt like lead. His head was pounding. His throat was a desert.
He blinked again.
Raon was hovering inches from his face, eyes wide and glowing with unspeakable horror.
“HUMAN. YOU’RE DYING.”
“...No I’m not,” Cale croaked.
“YOU HAVE A FEVER! A RAGING, FLAMING, VOLCANIC FEVER!”
“I’m just tired.”
“You’re 38.9°C! THAT’S BASICALLY LAVA!”
Cale tried to sit up. Mistake. The room spun like a cursed carousel.
Raon let out the tiniest squeak, then disappeared with a POOF, yelling,
“EMERGENCY FAMILY SUMMON — THE HUMAN IS IN DANGER!!”
Four Minutes Later
The bedroom door flew open with the force of a small explosion.
“Cale-nim!” Choi Han burst in, already crouched low like he expected enemies.
“Where does it hurt?”
“Nowhere. Go away.”
Rosalyn followed with a glowing potion bottle and two enchanted towels.
“Your fever spiked, your mana’s a mess, and your immune system is acting like it’s on vacation.”
“I’m fine.” Cale tried to sit up again.
Rosalyn flicked her hand. Boom. Bed-rest spell.
Cale dropped like a rock back onto the pillows.
“You casted a spell on me?!”
Raon landed dramatically on the bedside table with a thermometer and three different kinds of tea.
“You’re LUCKY we didn’t quarantine the entire manor.”
Lock peeked in behind them. “Do you want porridge? Herbal soup? A full cow?”
“I want silence.”
Too late.
Eruhaben strolled in last, looking far too elegant for a man walking into a sick room full of chaos. “Is this what passes for a normal illness response in this household?”
“YES,” Raon and Rosalyn snapped in sync.
Operation: Save the Human (from Himself)
What followed could only be described as complete overkill.
Raon tried to spoon-feed him medicine shaped like tiny dragon gummies.
Choi Han fluffed his pillows every five minutes with painfully intense focus.
Rosalyn rotated cooling spells on his forehead while taking notes on his symptoms like she was publishing a thesis.
Cale groaned. “It’s just a fever. Why is everyone acting like I’ve been
poisoned?”
Silence.
Raon sniffled. “Because you never get sick. And when you do, you lie about it and work through it. You’re bad at this.”
Cale blinked.
“Oh no,” Rosalyn muttered. “He looks emotionally destabilized.”
Lock stepped closer and handed Cale a blanket, carefully tucked into the shape of a bear. “It’s okay to let people help, hyung.”
Choi Han nodded. “You look exhausted. Let us worry about you for once.”
Cale stared up at the ceiling and grumbled, “I liked it better when no one cared.”
“You’re lying,” Raon whispered as he tucked the blanket under his chin.
And Cale… didn’t have the energy to argue.
Later That Night
Wrapped in three layers of blankets, a sleepy Cale glanced around the room.
Raon had curled up on top of his stomach like a fuzzy heater. Choi Han stood in the corner like a knight on night shift. Rosalyn had fallen asleep at the desk with her potion notes. Lock was snoring softly in a chair, hugging a bowl of untouched soup.
Cale sighed.
“...You’re all ridiculous,” he muttered softly.
No one stirred. But he swore he felt Raon’s tail thump once against his leg.
And in that moment — warm, safe, unbearably smothered — Cale Henituse let himself drift back to sleep.