Elian sat behind his desk, a cup of coffee in hand, but he wasn't enjoying it. He was shivering.
A dull, throbbing ache pulsed behind his eyes, and his limbs felt like they were filled with wet sand. It was a familiar, terrifying sensation that he hadn't felt since the early days of his transmigration.
He pulled up his interface.
[Status: Out of Pheromone Range.][Time Until Death: 38 Hours, 15 Minutes.][Drain Rate: -1 Minute per Minute.]
"Thirty-eight hours," Elian muttered.
Being the Royal Steward meant he was officially running the castle's preparations for the Victory Banquet. It also meant he had spent the last seven hours away from Cassian, who was currently at the training grounds drilling the infantry.
"I need a recharge," Elian whispered, standing up on shaky legs. "I need to go hold his cape or bring him water. Something."
