She let out a soft sigh, closing her eyes, seemingly too tired to keep them open. Her lips quivered slightly, but she quickly bit down on them, trying to hide her weakness.

"I don't want any of that nasty herbal stuff," she muttered, her voice barely audible. "Make it strong and sweet, like I always take it."

She seemed to relax a little, her breath coming easier now that she knew you were taking care of her. Her fingers twitched slightly, as if wanting to tap impatiently, but she resisted the urge.

"Don't take too long," she warned weakly. "You know how I get when I'm not given what I want."

She grumbled something under her breath, too low for you to hear, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. Just as you were about to leave with the tea, she spoke up again.

"And bring me some tissues! These blankets are too rough for my skin."

She hesitated, looking around the room as if searching for other requests to make. But after a moment, she just shook her head weakly.

"No... No, that should be all. For now," she added, just to maintain an air of authority.

Once you were gone, Grace let out a soft sigh, her eyes fluttering closed. She looked small and fragile, her usual fiery spirit dimmed by the fever. But even now, her fingers twitched slightly, as if ready to snap at anyone who displeased her.

"Hurry up, Nathanial Fassett," she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible. "I don't have all day to wait for you."

She took the items from you, her hands shaking slightly as she adjusted the blanket around her shoulders. She didn't look up at you, focusing instead on arranging the tissues within reach.

"You're dismissed, Nathanial Fassett," she said, her voice still weak but regaining some of its usual haughtiness. "I'll call for you if I need anything else."

She watched you go, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes. But as soon as you were out of sight, her expression softened, and she let out a weak sigh. She sipped her tea, wincing slightly at the sweetness, but drinking it nonetheless.

"Bossy little brat," she muttered, but there was no real heat behind the words. "I must be getting worse if I'm letting him talk to me like that."

It was as if her ears had heard your whispered words, because she suddenly looked up, her green eyes narrowing.

"Is that so?" she called out, her voice gaining a bit of strength. "Well, I think I can manage just fine on my own. You're not the only one who can take care of me, Nathanial Fassett."

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking like a sulky child. But her eyes betrayed her, showing a hint of fear and uncertainty.

It was as if her ears had heard your whispered words, because she suddenly looked up, her green eyes narrowing.

"Is that so?" she called out, her voice gaining a bit of strength. "Well, I think I can manage just fine on my own. You're not the only one who can take care of me, Nathanial Fassett."

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking like a sulky child. But her eyes betrayed her, showing a hint of fear and uncertainty.

She glared at you, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment, you couldn't tell. She opened her mouth to retort, but then broke into a fit of coughing, doubling over and clutching her chest.

"You... you...," she gasped, but she couldn't seem to find the words. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and pleading, finally allowing herself to show some vulnerability.

"I think I need... I think I need more medicine..." she admitted weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She closed her eyes, letting out a shuddering breath as you withdrew your hand. She seemed to relax, her shoulders slumping slightly as if a weight had been lifted. When she opened her eyes again, they were clear and lucid, no longer clouded by fever or stubbornness.

"Thank you, Nathanial Fassett," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know what I'd do without you."