"Cough, cough, cough—cough, cough—"
Faint coughs came intermittently from a side room in the rear courtyard. The woman sleeping in the outer room heard them, threw on her robe, and got up. A candle quickly lit inside, driving away the heavy, bone-chilling darkness. As she drew closer, she could hear the patient murmuring faintly.
"Water, water... water..."
The woman said gently, "Here's some water."
She carefully helped the patient sit up in bed, supporting her so she could turn her head and sip the warm water in tiny mouthfuls. As the liquid trickled down her throat, it briefly eased the dryness, like a blazing fire scorching her from within. Her lips moved; the tiny sips became great gulps.
Before long, she had drained the bowl of warm water.
The patient also gradually regained consciousness.
"May I ask the name of my benefactor..."
She clearly remembered being rescued during the day.
By the very person caring for her now.
"I hardly deserve to be called your benefactor. If anything, I'm repaying the kindness you showed me years ago with just a few words, when you helped me out of a bind." She carefully laid the patient back down, tucked the blanket around her, and said softly, "You were gravely ill during the day, so I didn't have a chance to tell you—I've already reported your background to the Patriarch here. He's kind and generous, and he told me to assure you that you can rest and recover here without worry."
Hearing that her background had been reported made the patient's heart tighten. Only after she heard the rest did she feel somewhat reassured.
She was sensible enough to understand the problem her identity posed.
"Once I've recovered, I'll take my leave of the household. The household has treated me with kindness,