The man let out a quiet sigh when he sat on the rich armchair. He caressed its velvet upholstery with distracted hands and took a deep breath. It was the third time that week that he was woken up by the hurried handmaiden, babbling something about his son being sick again. He looked down to his hands and started to play with a silver ring which rested in his left index. No, he should not show his worries in front of others, but he was beyond worried. He wasn't a pessimistic man at all, but his son had been sick since he was born and had inherited some of his mother's illnesses. One thing was to endure such pains when someone was a young woman, and another one to be just a child. He pressed his fingertips against his temples and tried to find a comfortable position. It looked like he had a very long night ahead.

"How is he?"

A blonde woman entered the room with haste, her blonde hair messy and half tied in a bun over his nape. She went to the bed and looked down to her son, a pale boy with bluish black hair who was having trouble breathing. He tried to sat on the bed, but fell back to the pillows placed behind his back struck by a heavy cough. The boy tried to stop the cough with his little hands, but it kept coming out muffled.

"He's been like this all the night, my Lady. I didn't know what to do exactly, so I called you."

"Does Vincent know?"

"Yes my Lady, the Earl is waiting in the next room for the doctor. Is there anything I can do?"

The woman sat in a chair next to the bed and looked at the handmaiden, a dark haired girl with a long braid down her back. She was clutching the white apron of her uniform and looking nervously at the sick child.

"Bring me a basin with fresh water and some clean towels."

"Mother?"

She held the little hand between hers and tried to compose a smile for her son.

"Yes, my dear?"

"I'm sorry to wa-" The boy was struck by another heavy cough, but that time he spat a little drop of blood on the handkerchief he was holding to cover his mouth. He sucked all the air he could, but it didn't reach the bottom of his lungs. "-Wake you up."

"Don't say that. It's my duty as your mother to take care of you."

The boy looked up at her with worry, his blue orbs seeming dull and half closed. He drew his knees to his stomach and managed to sit against the headboard of the bed. Maybe in that position he wouldn't cough so badly.

Vincent stood up when the door opened and a redheaded woman came in carrying a heavy black medical bag. She left it on top of a wooden table and placed her hands over her hips.

"Why didn't you call me earlier, Vincent? Is Rachel fine?"

"She's with him now, in the next room. I wanted to talk with you before you see him," said the nobleman with a warm smile. "Do you think he is going to be healthy someday? Or is this going to be like Rachel's case?"

The redheaded woman swallowed before she replied.

"It seems to be like her illness, probably he will be affected by it all his life. But we can look for the better remedy for him, worry not about that."

"I understand… Thanks, Angelina. You know how I despise to talk such themes with Rachel present. Now go check him, he's been in silence for ten good minutes."

Vincent opened the wooden panel and guided the woman to the next room. She picked up her medical bag and waited for him to open the door. The man let her in, searching for his wife in the room. Rachel was sitting next to the bed with a little basin full of cool water at her side. On the bed, covered in a noticeable amount of blankets and surrounded by soft pillows was his son, resting with a wheezing sound coming from his half parted lips.

"How are you feeling, sister?"

Rachel looked up from her lap to her sister and forced a smile.

"I've seen better nights. Can I stay with you this time?"

"I'm afraid you shouldn't… If he panics and you start to worry, it would only worsen the situation. You should rest for tonight, I can take care of it."

Angelina left her medical bag next to the bed and sat on its border, smiling at the half asleep child.

"Can you hear me? I'm going to need you to open up…"

The next morning, the Earl was woken by the hinges of the bedroom door. He opened his eyes slowly and closed them back letting out a quiet yawn. He turned to his left and faced the window. Even covered by the heavy curtains, the clear panels let the sunlight in, bathing the room in a cozy dim light. From the corner of his eyes he caught a little figure rushing to the curtains, but he ignored it for some seconds. Of course, the curtains always had had little feet. At his side, his wife was starting to move with a soft sound of blankets.

"Is everything fine dear?"

Vincent smiled and brushed some bluish locks from his forehead, stretching his arms in the process.

"Our curtains have feet now, that's all", answered the man with a whispering tone. A little smile curved his lips when his wife let out a quiet chuckle.

"How is it? Maybe you should check them."

The earl smiled mischievously and rolled over his side, then he sat on the bed and got up all in a fluid motion. He took a couple of steps towards the window and grabbed the curtains, one in each hand, to open them. A little boy with bluish locks giggled while running to the bed, which he climbed in no time. He crawled under the covers and snuggled them as close as he could to Rachel.

"Ciel, what are you doing awake this earlier?"

"I couldn't sleep more. And he was sleeping again," the boy said with a pout on his lips. He sat on the mattress and rested his head against his mother's side. "Why is he sick all the time? I can't play with him like that and Sebastian is chasing cats…"

Vincent sat on the bed next to his son and his wife and patted the boy's head.

"You have to be patient, he is going to be fine, but he needs to rest."

"He's always resting, and sleeping, and all those things. Is he going to die, father?"

The man looked at his wife in the eye and hugged the little boy.

"Of course he is not, Ciel. Don't say such somber things. What do you think about going to check him and having some breakfast instead, hm?"

Ciel looked down to his lap and slipped under his father's arm, looking for comfort.

"Sounds fine to me, father."