When Ivan returned to his Chamber some minutes later, he found his little lamb all curled up like a ball in his bed. She had buried herself in his duvet, and her small frame was outlined by the blanket. When he approached his bedside, he no longer perceived the tempting scent of her blood but instead, a sweet floral scent that was pleasantly familiar to his nostrils.
Dropping the cup of warm tea on the bedside table, Ivan gently pulled the blanket to reveal his little lamb's face, but she gave no reaction to his presence. Her eyes were squeezed shut, eyebrows creased in agony, and she was still curled in that position, it made him want to take her in his arms again. He hated the idea of bothering her, but if bothering her presently would make her get better, then he was more than willing to take that option.
