PREVIEW

... ill, drinking warm soup while enjoying cold yogurt was a weird sensation, to say the least. Both of them were good, by the way, nothing to complain about.

Taking a final scoop of the soup, I cleaned out Feyt's tray.

“Aaah~” I let out a satisfied sigh.

Mom picked up the flimsy table tray with the empty bowl and glass. As she stood up, the wooden table balanced on her right hand, she held her hand onto my forehead.

“Does it still hurt, Feyt?” She rubbed a part of my ...

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