After dealing with Lily's matter, Iver did not go to school with her.
Since he had already taken the day off, he might as well stay home and keep Yulia company while she rested.
Back when Iver was at home, Yulia would occasionally hug her stuffed animal and run over to sleep with him.
Her body had always been hot then. She did not even need to hug him; simply lying beside him was like having a blazing furnace radiating heat. That was fine in winter, but it made Iver miserable in summer. Sometimes, the heat even left his mouth dry and his lips cracked.
But he had never refused Yulia.
Because Iver knew full well that whatever pain he had endured was nothing compared to Yulia's. The two of them had supported each other since their orphanage days, and by now, they had developed a deep bond.
Yet Iver could not share Yulia's suffering. She had been running fevers ever since she was six or seven, leaving her in an almost constant state of weakness.
If it had been someone else, their soul might have withered like a flower. Depression, anxiety, and rage would have been the least of it. Losing control and lashing out at one's family, smashing things, or even wanting to commit suicide would all have been perfectly normal.
But Yulia had never been like that.
The more she suffered, the more melancholy she became, and the more radiant her soul grew.
Yulia endured all the pain she suffered, transforming every bit of it into a thirst for knowledge.
Mathematics, physics, architecture, geology, history, alchemy...
She liked things that left room for thought—fields of knowledge that allowed her to sense the world's profound richness without ever leaving the house.
Whenever Iver visited Yulia in her bedroom,