He smiled a little at the compliment. "My thanks, you are not so bad looking yourself." he replied lightly, standing from the bed. "Pasta primavera sounds delicious. Would you like anything to eat?" he asked, already on his way to the door to try and ask someone for some food.
Arquis blushed, retreating a little into the cocoon of blankets. He uncapped the thermos, sipped it again, and put the lid on. As warm as he was, he still found himself craving something else; he wasn’t sure what he was missing.
“Oh, no, I am not hungry. Thank you, though, for asking. And for, ah, the compliment.” He set the thermos on his bedside table and cast a glance about the room, attempting to look busy. That was when he saw the jar of vapor rub and his medicines poking out from in between the blankets. He took them and lined them up in a row.
He stuck his head out of the room, looking around for a servant he could stop and request food from. It took a minute or two, and then a maid walked through the hallway. He waved her down and asked if she could please bring him some food. She said yes, and then she left again. He closed the door, turning back to Arquis. "Well. I should be getting food sooner or later."
“I hope you enjoy it. You did not ask for the cot with it, however,” Arquis said, not daring to meet the musician’s eyes. “Would you prefer to take the bed? I could certainly arrange a place to sleep on the floor. Whatever is most co- comforta-“
A sudden coughing attack wracked his body, and he hunched over until it was finished. His vision was blurred with tears that he instantly blinked away. He brought a hand down to check his pulse, realized his gloves were still on, and instead settled for taking a few stuttering breaths.
"Yeah, I'll ask for the cot when she brings the food, I didn't want to overload her with requests all at once. It's fine." he replied, taking a step forward when he heard how badly Arquis was coughing. "Are you alright? You don't sound too good."
“I am alright,” he croaked, red in the face from the effort. He wiped more sweat from his neck and groaned. “Whatever this is, it is an absolute menace. I have not been this sick since I was young. It is good that the doctor did not seem worried about contagion; at least it is mine to suffer.”
That gave him a thought. He peeled off the blankets and leaned forward, still a little dazed. “I loathe asking, but can I have you check my temperature? Just with the back of your hand. I would, but I do not think I could feel it through the gloves. I fear that not monitoring it could be dangerous.”
He nodded a little, leaning forward to press the back of his hand lightly to Arquis's forehead. "Out of curiousity, why not just take off the gloves to monitor your temperature?" he asked, not understanding why Arquis seemed to committed to wearing his gloves all of the time.
Arquis melted into the touch, his eyelids drifting shut. It was embarrassing how such a small gesture could feel so nice. He wondered for a moment when the last time he’d had real contact was before the last few days. Typically, he didn’t let anybody close enough.
He cleared his throat and pulled away, realizing that he hadn’t answered the question. “I only remove my gloves in specific circumstances, and only when I am alone.”
Rin pulled his hand back, tipping their head faintly. "Why? Er– obviously you do not have to tell me if you do not want to, I know it might be a bit of an invasive question." he cleared his throat faintly, rubbing a hand along their jaw.
“I lied when you asked the other night. It is not because they match my clothes. I just… the reason is too personal. I cannot discuss it.”
Even though he had been the one to move away, he looked longingly over at Rinlos. He watched as he rubbed at their jaw and felt the strange desire to take that hand and wrap it in his. The fever really was doing odd things to him; he was glad at the very least that it wasn’t worse.
“Your food should be here soon,” he said, too distracted to truly care about the food.
"I see." Rin did not press for any further information; he would have been uncomfortable discussing the scar on his throat, after all, so it was no issue extending the same courtesy to Arquis. "And yes, it should." it was just a little later that there was a knock on the door, and the maid opened it. She was holding a tray with some food on it, which Rin took from her with a grateful smile. "My thanks. Could you arrange for a cot to be brought up as well, please?" she nodded and said she would, then left. Rin sat down on the foot of the bed, setting the tray in front of themself.
The smell and sight of the food made Arquis nauseous. It hit him that he hadn’t eaten before taking medicine, and he cursed his stubbornness. He placed a hand over the lower half of his face and got up as slowly as possible as to not dizzy himself.
“Washroom,” he said for clarification, stumbling off on trembling legs. Once there, he swung the door shut and lowered himself onto the freezing tile floor. The lack of any strong scent soothed both his stomach and his lungs. He pressed his cheek against the sink cabinet, battling back his still rising sickness, and called to Rinlos, “Please do eat. I will be out later.”
Rin watched the young nobleman go, a bit concerned. "Alright. Let me know if you need any help." he called back, before beginning to eat. He was quiet while he did so, mulling over whether or not to ask if someone could bring him his instrument, and perhaps some of his own clothes as well? He did not want to have to borrow Arquis's.
Arquis placed his palms on the edge of the counter and heaved himself up. The mirror began to fog after he turned the warm water on. While the steam made the room a bit stuffy, it also did wonders on his chest. He stood there in bliss for about five uninterrupted minutes, just letting the faucet run, before having the sudden idea to submerge his face in the sink bowl. He did so without considering the repercussions. The water relieved some of the pressure in his throat and actually helped his nausea, but it also soaked much of his hair. He scrubbed it with a towel for a bit before giving up, turning the tap off, and joining Rinlos again in the main room.
He was so pleased by the lack of nausea that he nearly tripped over a glovebox on the ground. He managed to right himself using the edge of his harp. As soon as he recognized what he had been touching, he yanked his hand away.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked the musician, desperate for a distraction.
Rin watched him come back in, nearly finished with his food, and blinked in uncertainty when presented with the question. "Nothing in particular, really." he replied, taking another bite of their food and keeping an eye on Arquis. "You should sit down, though. You need to rest, not move around your room and fall."
“I already did rest,” Arquis pointed out, but he didn’t put up much of a fight. He slid back into the same place as before. Tiny droplets of water dripped from his hair as he adjusted the sheets around him.
Half to himself, half to Rinlos, he said, “I wish I had something to do. I would paint, but there is not any scenery around to paint. I would read, but my eyes are too sore. I cannot go to class today, cannot go outside to ice skate or walk, and cannot cook. If this is how it is to be for a couple of days, then I am afraid I will go mad. I do not like to keep idle.”
Rin studied the young man for a long moment. "I can read to you, if you would like me too." he said. They also debated volunteering to be painted, if Arquis desired a subject, but from what he knew, the nobleman preferred scenery, not people, and they did not want to make it awkward. "I'm afraid I cannot help you with the other things, though."
“Would you really?” He studied their face in an attempt to tell whether they were serious. “I do not wish to be a bother—you have done so much already—but if you would not mind then I would enjoy that immensely. I have plenty of books that you could choose from.”
The prospect gave him mixed emotions. Rinlos had a lovely voice, even when not singing, and Arquis could listen to it forever. On the other hand, the last person who had read to him was his father. He had been five or six and very ill, and his father had pulled up a chair next to his bed to read him a children’s book. The nostalgia of it made stomach hurt.
"I can, yes." he set his tray aside and headed over to Arquis's bookshelf. "Do you have a preferred book or subject for me to read?" he asked, looking through them and hoping that they could remember enough of how this language was written. He was used to reading in Kevran, not this language, so he hoped he would not stumble over the words too much.
“There are some books of poetry I have not read in a while,” Arquis said.
He watched the musician’s back as they searched his shelves, recalling their strength as they had carried him to the Palace. He had lied a bit earlier; quite attractive was an understatement. It was strange that they hadn’t mentioned a current lover. Perhaps he wasn’t into that sort of life. Bards did have a certain reputation regarding amorous pursuits, after all.
Thinking about it had surely made his face cherry red. He bit his bottom lip and toyed with his gloves, frustrated with his mind. He usually had control over himself; he usually managed to keep his distance from people like Rin.
Rin closed his eyes for a moment, then went back to going through the books on the shelves. He eventually picked out a poetry book, bringing it back to the bed and sitting down. "Alright. Ready?" He asked, opening up the book and holding it carefully in their hands. They did not currently have a lover, no. It was a…bit of a complicated subject for him.
Arquis took one look at the book and nearly choked on air. He gently placed his hand on Rin’s to close the book. The thin green cover had a series of delicately painted pink flowers that were wrapped with two dimensional silk.
“This is a collection of romantic poetry,” he murmured, “taken from poets around the world. There are some poems from Anvillea and others from your home country. From Kevra.”
He traced his thumb along the spine of the book for a moment before realizing that his hand was still on top of Rin’s. He pulled it back, nervous, and clutched it to his chest.
Rin blinked at him. "Ah. Would you, ah, prefer I chose something else, then?" they asked slowly, setting the book down on their lap as they studied Arquis quietly. He was not quite sure what to do now, what the proper thing to say was. Romantic poetry was…an odd thing, but he had not quite relaized what it was when he pulled it down.
His mouth opened and closed for several seconds before he carefully shook his head. “No, that will be fine. Romantic poetry it is.” As if it would help, he added, “It really is quite a nice collection. The edges are gilded, and there are illustrations in between sections.”
The illustrations weren’t why he wanted Rin to read the book, but he wouldn’t admit it even to himself. He settled back against his blankets and raked a hand through his hair. Some self-conscious part of himself fretted over his appearance; he shoved it down.
They nodded, clearing their throat quietly, then began to read. He kept his gaze fixed on the book in his lap. Occasionally, he would take longer, having to puzzle their way through antiquated words in Anvillean. As Anvillean was not his native tongue, some of the words were a little difficult for him to figure out.