Lance
As she woke up, it was late in the morning when the sun was high. The winter sun was mild, and yet the intensity did not lessen compared to its usual days. Only, the inclination angle was slightly different and the wind was frosty, so Chiaki felt the morning was extraordinarily cold.
She didn't feel that much under the thick blanket, though. And in someone's warm embrace. Hot, even.
Wait, was Lance Hua in fever?
She stirred gently to prevent him from waking him up in surprise, afraid that it might trigger a trauma response from him that would cause him to launch a reflex attack.
"My lord," she whispered
She touched a hand over his forehead and two fingers on his wrist at the pulse point. Generally, in a fever, his heartbeat would rise, too.
It did.
Thinking quickly, Chiaki closed her eyes and focused the energy on Lance Hua's chest, the crystal power streaming out of her in a steady flow like water sluicing from a half-open faucet.