Chapter 540 Fever
In the depths of night, silence reigned supreme, broken only by the steady ticking of the bedside clock marking time's passage through the darkness.
Yvette and Albert lay entwined in peaceful slumber, their bodies naturally gravitating toward each other's warmth.
Albert's familiar scent enveloped Yvette like a protective cocoon, granting her the deep sense of security she'd been craving. For the first time in what felt like ages, she slept without dreams, her mind finally at rest.
The tranquility shattered with urgent, muffled knocking that jolted them both from their dreams.
A servant's voice filtered through the door, tinged with worry: "Mr. Valdemar, Mrs. Valdemar—BoBo and CiCi are running fevers. Their temperatures are quite concerning."
Albert's eyes snapped open, instantly alert. He sprang from the bed, throwing on his robe as he moved toward the door, hoping to silence the knocking before it fully roused Yvette. Too late—when he turned back, he met her confused gaze as she struggled to process what was happening.
"We'll be right there," Albert called out firmly.
The knocking ceased immediately, restoring silence to their room.
Yvette reached for the bedside lamp, flooding the space with soft light. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.
Albert pressed his lips together, unwilling to lie. "BoBo and CiCi have fevers. I need to check on them."
Yvette's face went pale with worry. "How high?"
"We'll find out soon enough. Try not to panic—we have everything we need here, medical equipment, medications. They'll be fine."
Albert buttoned his shirt with practiced efficiency while gently tucking the covers around her. "Let me assess the situation first. Get dressed properly before you come out—I don't want you catching cold. Take your time, alright?"
Yvette nodded, understanding his protective instincts while knowing he wouldn't prevent her from seeing the children. She was still recovering herself, and the house's medical equipment would provide more accurate readings than her weakened state could manage. The family physician was more qualified than she was right now.
"Alright," she agreed, though her maternal fears gnawed at her. Even knowing childhood fevers were common, her recent trauma made her terrified of losing anyone else. "I'll take care of myself too."
"Good." Albert smoothed the blanket over her before heading for the door. Just as his hand touched the handle, Yvette's trembling voice stopped him.
"Thank you for handling this."
"It's what fathers do," Albert replied simply before disappearing into the hallway.
When Albert entered the children's room, both little ones were bundled under their covers, cheeks flushed crimson with fever, lying quietly but alert. Their eyelids drooped with fatigue until they spotted him, then brightened considerably.
"Daddy!" CiCi's face lit up despite her obvious discomfort, her already rosy cheeks now blazing with fever. "You're still awake?"
Albert settled on the edge of their bed, pressing his palm against each child's forehead—definitely too warm. "Of course I'm awake when my children are sick."
Despite their fevers, both BoBo and CiCi seemed remarkably spirited, their usual personalities shining through the illness. This observation eased some of Albert's tension.
"How are you feeling? Any pain or discomfort?" Albert asked gently, stroking their hair.
BoBo shook his head. "Not really. CiCi and I just feel thirsty."
The attending servant quickly interjected, "Yes, Mr. Valdemar, we were sleeping in the adjacent room when BoBo knocked, asking for water. That's when I noticed his flushed face. I apologize, sir—we should have been more vigilant."
Before Albert could respond, CiCi waved her small hand dismissively. "Don't say that! Ms. Everly always says kids get sick all the time. BoBo, what's that word she uses?"
Despite his fever, BoBo's mind remained sharp. "Unavoidable."
CiCi nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, that's it—unavoidable!"
The door opened again as Yvette appeared, wrapped in her robe. Her face still held that pallid, exhausted quality, but determination drove her forward.
She approached the children's bed and felt their foreheads herself, her maternal instincts overriding medical objectivity.
Feeling their elevated temperatures, worry creased her features. "How are you both feeling?"
"We're okay, Mommy!" CiCi beamed despite her condition.
Albert's hand found Yvette's shoulder, offering gentle reassurance. "They're in good spirits—that's always a positive sign."
"Right." Yvette knew rationally that childhood fevers were routine, but her recent trauma had left her emotionally raw, prone to catastrophic thinking.
Albert's warm palm against her shoulder, even through the fabric, seemed to transfer some of his steady strength to her.
She exhaled slowly, centering herself.
Noticing Yvette's pale complexion, CiCi reached for her hand. "Mommy, you're sick too and need rest. We're big kids now—we can take care of ourselves. Don't worry about us."
BoBo nodded sagely. "That's right, Mommy. You should sleep. We're fine, and Daddy's here with us."
Their words touched Yvette deeply. These children, barely four years old and burning with fever, were more concerned about her wellbeing than their own discomfort. The irony wasn't lost on her—she should be protecting them, yet here they were, worrying about their mother.
"If you want Mommy to feel better, then you need to get well quickly," Albert said, his voice warm but firm. "Let her spend a little time with you, then she can rest easy."
"Okay!" CiCi scooted over in her bed. "Mommy, do you want to sleep with me?"
"No, CiCi," BoBo frowned with concern. "The doctor said since we went to the hospital, this might be flu, and that's contagious!"
CiCi immediately covered her nose and mouth. "Oh no! Mommy, maybe you should stay farther away so we don't make you sick!"
After Yvette spent time reading them stories, both children drifted off to sleep with cooling patches on their foreheads. She intended to remain in their room for the night, but Albert gently intervened.
Yvette recognized her vulnerability—catching their illness in her current state would only complicate her recovery. Reluctantly, she allowed Albert to guide her back toward their bedroom.
Just outside the children's room, Albert suddenly stopped and dropped his arm from her shoulders.
Yvette turned back, puzzled. "What's wrong?"
"You go ahead and sleep. I'll stay here with them."
Yvette blinked in confusion. "But you just said they'd be fine with the staff watching them, that I should rest easy?"
A flicker of something crossed Albert's features. "I changed my mind. I need to be here."
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