Molitia Clemence was born with a fragile body, prone to illness. One night, she carelessly forgot to cover herself with a blanket and caught a cold. After ten days of being bedridden, she finally woke up next to her husband. But something seemed off about him. "Have you eaten, Husband?" Molitia asked weakly. "Yes, my dear," he replied. "This is the belly of someone who has eaten," he said, frowning as he gently touched her flat lower abdomen. Then, he carefully held her wrist, as if it were made of glass. "Why is your wrist so thin? Are you even human, Husband?" Molitia asked, her voice barely audible. "That's...," her husband started to say, but was interrupted by their butler rushing in. "What is it, Husband?" the butler asked, fidgeting with his own wrists. "Get me food for my wife to eat. Something that will help her regain her strength. Anything will do," her husband said, his voice rising in frustration. Molitia's mouth opened in surprise at her husband's words, but no sound came out. She had just finished a meal, yet her husband was still worried about her health.
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