nd in bed?" Fiona murmured softly, sensing that something was amiss but unable to pinpoint why.

The maid, Mother Susan, approached and gently changed the cloth on Fiona''s forehead.

The little girl felt hot, instinctively wanting to throw off the heavy-scented silk coverlet d□□d over her.

"You need to sweat, dear Miss Fiona," Mother Susan said, pressing down on her hand, smiling and shaking her head.

"But I feel so hot," Fiona sighed irritably.

"Let me blow on you, soon you won''t feel hot anymore," the Marquis, sitting by the bedside, bent down and earnestly breathed onto her petite forehead, causing a few stray strands of hair to flutter, tickling her face.

"Am I some kind of hot sweet cookie?" Fiona laughed at this playful side of her usually dignified father.

"You are my little sweetheart, exclusively mine, Fiona." The Marquis''s expression was serious, yet his gaze upon her eyes was filled with a smile.

She reached out and touched his large hand. "Stay and talk with me, Father," the girl cooed with her melting voice.

"Of course, little princess. I''ll be here for as long as you want. As for the school, I''ve already arranged a month-long leave for you. During this time, you''ll just stay home until you''ve fully recovered," he assured her.

"Really?" Fiona exclaimed with delight. "I thought I wouldn''t be able to return to your side until I turned seventeen."

"I couldn''t bear that," the Marquis chuckled. "I would be lonely too, my dear Fiona. The yearning for you would overwhelm me.