The weak cries of a child follow me into awareness, almost ringing in my ears when I cracked my eyes open. Thin shreds of light no longer filtered in from under the curtains, indicating to me that it is night time. Who was crying? Why were they crying? I cough weakly, my chest feeling uncomfortable as the last vestiges of my dream slip through my fingers like water.
"W-Water..." I call out, my voice sounding croaky like I've got a cold.
Out of concern, I place a hand on my forehead, ignoring the dull sting of my fingertips as an excessive heat meets my palm. I roll my eyes in irritation. In addition to making Princess Winter a weak-willed, irrelevant character in the webnovel, it seems she also had a weak physical constitution.
I hear someone shift in the room and look anxiously to my left, only to see Emma walk over.
"Your highness, you're sick," she says matter-of-factly as she tips a cool glass of water down my throat since my hands are still out of commission.
