She begins to strike 2

Aegis reclined against the ornate headboard of his massive bed, his brow furrowed in discomfort. The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the candles that lined the walls, casting flickering shadows across the dark wood paneling. The doctor, an elderly man with thin gray hair and a steady hand, was methodically packing away his tools into a leather case. His expression was one of quiet concern as he looked over Aegis.

"You will need to rest, Your Majesty," the doctor said in a low, calm voice. "The treatment should alleviate the symptoms, but you must not exert yourself."

Aegis waved a hand dismissively, his face twisted in irritation. "I am not an invalid, doctor. I do not need to be coddled."