Thin Ice (M/M Transmigration)

Chapter 14

The New Year was uneventful.

Cale spent most of the days leading up to it stuck in bed. Turned out the ball was a bit too exciting for him and though he was an ice mage, he wasn't immune to colds. While his nose was running and he was nursing a fever, the snow continued to pile up outside. By the time that he was finally well enough to leave bed, it was the day before the New Year.

He stumbled down the stairs and into the living room with a hand on the wall. Spending so much time stuck in bed again, when he had only just recovered from the Fire Spirit incident, had made his legs weak. They trembled as they bore his weight, and he worried that he'd fall.

Luckily, he managed to get to the couch facing the fire place without any trouble. Cale fell down on the couch face first and sighed deeply. For a couple of seconds, he didn't move. Then he pushed himself up on his hands and painfully positioned himself so that he was sitting up properly, leaning heavily against the backrest. Exhaling, he blearily looked around at the room. A fire was crackling in the fire place. The curtains flowed gently along the tall windows, the lamps on the walls lighting up the area around them.

At the moment, he was alone. After spending a couple of minutes resting his sore body, Cale stretched out and picked up one of the books on the coffee table. He dragged his finger along the book's spine covered in brown leather and examined it. There was no title on the cover or the spine, the leather undamaged though slightly worn.

Opening it to the first page, Cale pulled his legs up underneath him and nestled into the couch's corner, reading in silence. The only sound in the dark room with flickering lights from the fire was Cale turning the pages intermittently, his eyes drifting quickly over the words. After a while he changed his position when his back was starting to hurt, shoving a soft pillow behind him against the armrest and stretching out his legs across the length of the couch.

When he looked up again, the sunlight streaming in through the windows was almost gone. Cale rubbed his eyes and yawned, stretching his arms over his head and frowning at how stiff his back felt. He was only about half-way through the book, but he could no longer ignore the growling of his stomach.

Just as he was about to stand up, Isaac walked through the entryway into the living room (he thought he remembered them calling it the parlor, but he wasn't sure) carrying a tray. Isaac frowned when he saw Cale half-standing, one of his feet on the floor and the other knee supported by the couch. "You should rest some more," said Isaac and walked over, effortlessly carrying the tray full to the brim.

Cale sank back on the couch. "For me?" he croaked out.

"Yes," Isaac said. He put the tray down on the coffee table in front of Cale and stepped back. His eyebrows furrowed and he narrowed his eyes as he stared at Cale, looking him over from head to toe. "Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"Ah, yeah," Cale dutifully nodded.

He had. It took a while for it to come—he found himself tossing and turning on the bed for hours before he fell asleep—but once it did, he slept deeply. And it wasn't like he had anywhere to be, there were no classes or anything like that, so he could carelessly sleep until two in the afternoon without any consequences. So he was getting enough sleep—though his sleeping schedule was thoroughly shot.

"Good." Isaac had a satisfied look on his face as he down on one of the armchairs facing the fire place. Even when sitting, he was still just as unreadable.

Cale waited a moment but the man didn't say anything else. Taking it as his cue, he picked up the tray and carefully sat it on his lap. There was a large bowl of steaming soup on it, cutlery for eating with, a glass full of milk and a small bottle of familiar medicine. Picking up the spoon, Cale blew on the soup to cool it.