CHAPTER 106: 106 - TO ADMIT

106

~Damon’s POV

I carried Lisa into the small, dimly lit room and gently placed her on the bed. Her body felt so light in my arms that it made my chest ache. She was breathing, but too weak. I brushed a strand of hair away from her face and sat on the edge of the bed, my eyes never leaving her.

The sound of footsteps came from the corridor. A moment later, the door opened and the royal doctor stepped in with guard and a nurse trailing behind.

The doctor’s eyes widened slightly when he saw me, and he immediately bowed low.

"Your Highness," he greeted.

"Check on her," I ordered, my tone sharp, though inside I was just... worried.

"Yes, Your Highness."

He moved quickly to Lisa’s side. The nurse followed, placing a small medical bag on the bedside table. The doctor began examining her,checking her pulse, lifting her eyelids, listening to her heartbeat with his stethoscope. I watched every movement, my fists clenching unconsciously.

"Well?" I asked after a while. My patience was wearing thin.

The doctor’s eyes flicked to me briefly before returning to his work. His hands moved with precision as he checked her pulse again and adjusted the cuff around her arm.

"She’s stable, Your Highness," he said finally, his voice calm but edged with something heavier. "She fainted due to stress. And..." His words slowed, and I caught the subtle crease forming on his forehead. His gaze swept down her body, lingering for a moment too long before he continued. "She appears malnourished. Very much so."

A sharp, almost physical pang hit me in the chest. My brows drew together. "Malnourished? You mean she hasn’t been eating?" I asked, my voice lower than I intended.

The doctor sighed quietly, as though weighing his words. "It’s possible she’s been skipping meals, yes. Or.." he hesitated, his tone turning more cautious, "she hasn’t had access to proper nutrition for an extended period. This isn’t the kind of thing that happens overnight. Her body shows signs of prolonged deficiency... dryness in her skin, brittle hair, slight muscle loss."

His explanation felt like a punch to the gut. I looked at her, lying pale and still against the bed, her breathing shallow but steady. The thought of her going hungry, whether by choice or circumstance, lit an unfamiliar heat behind my ribs.

"There’s no serious organ damage," the doctor continued, his voice steady but clinical, as though reading from a textbook. "Her condition isn’t irreversible. But the combination of stress and malnutrition is dangerous. Her body is already weakened, so it’s more susceptible to illness or collapse." He glanced back at me. "She just needs time to recover, rest, balanced meals, and proper hydration. No strenuous activity for at least a week, preferably longer."

I didn’t realize I’d been clenching my fists until my nails bit into my palms. "And if she doesn’t?" I asked, my voice almost a growl.

The doctor gave me a measured look. "If she continues under the same strain, her body will start breaking down muscle for energy. That can lead to severe weakness, fainting spells, and, if prolonged, more serious complications." He didn’t have to finish the sentence for me to understand what he meant.

He turned toward the nurse, who was standing quietly with a clipboard in hand. "Prepare the IV drip," he instructed, his tone brisk now. "Normal saline for hydration, then we’ll follow up with a multivitamin infusion. Also, bring the medication I prescribed earlier, something mild to stabilize her blood pressure and ease the dizziness."

The nurse gave a small nod and moved quickly, her steps soft but urgent, the faint squeak of her shoes against the polished floor echoing in the quiet room. I stood back at first, watching her pull out a fresh IV set from a sterile package. The crinkling of the plastic sounded loud in the stillness. She prepped Lisa’s arm with a swab, the sharp scent of antiseptic filling the air.

When the needle slid into her vein, Lisa flinched slightly in her sleep, her brow creasing for the briefest moment. It was such a small reaction, but it hit me harder than I expected. Without thinking, I stepped forward and reached for her hand. Her skin felt cold, too cold, and my thumb brushed over her knuckles as if that could somehow warm her.

The nurse secured the line with tape and hung the fluid bag from the metal stand. The slow, rhythmic drip began, each drop sounding like a quiet promise that she would be okay. I kept my eyes on her face, willing her to open her eyes, to give me some sign that she could hear me.

The doctor, who had been standing slightly behind, straightened up once the nurse stepped away. His voice was calm, measured. "Once she finishes this drip and takes the medication, she should regain consciousness within a few hours. She’ll be weak, but she will recover."

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, nodding slowly. "Good." My voice came out low, almost rough. I glanced at Lisa again, the pale color of her lips, the rise and fall of her chest.

"Leave the rest to me," I said finally, my grip tightening slightly on her hand. Whatever had brought her to this point, I was going to make sure it never happened again.

The doctor hesitated. "Should I remain here, Your Highness?"

"No," I said firmly. "Go back to the palace. You too," I told the nurse. "I’ll take care of her."

The doctor bowed again. "As you wish." He packed up his things, signaled to the nurse, and they left with the guard.

The room was quiet again, except for the soft beeping of the monitor and the slow drip of the IV. I stayed seated, still holding her hand.

I don’t know how long I sat there just watching her breathe. Every now and then, I’d adjust the blanket around her shoulders or brush my fingers over her hair. She looked too pale... too fragile.

"You stubborn woman," I muttered softly. "Why do you keep pushing yourself until you collapse?"

She didn’t answer, of course. Just kept sleeping, her chest rising and falling. I leaned back in the chair beside the bed, my eyes fixed on her face.

Some time later, a knock came at the door.

"Come in," I said.

The guard stepped in, bowing. "Your Highness, should we arrange food for you?"

I shook my head. "No. Just bring some warm water and fruit for her when she wakes up."

"Yes, Your Highness." He left immediately.

I turned back to Lisa. "You hear that? You’re getting fruit. And you’re going to eat it, whether you like it or not." My voice was low but firm, as if she could hear me.

The truth was... I wasn’t used to feeling like this. Worry wasn’t an emotion I allowed myself often. But seeing her like this... it cut deeper than I wanted to admit.