**3rd Person POV**
Irene had good days and bad days. There were days when she was so tired that she was unconscious the entire day. There were days in which she felt well enough to take a walk. The illness was indeed a strange one. It covered her from head to toe with plaques that oozed mucus on the bad days. On the good days, the plaques were dry but slightly itchy. She had become very thin as a result of the illness and overall she was a shadow of her former self.
When the illness had begun at first, she had been separated from the rest of everyone because the physicians had feared that it was contagious. Several tests had proved them wrong and so Alison was allowed within proximal distance of her sister. As the sickness worsened, Alison watched the sickness take over her sister completely. One day, Irene happened to look at her reflection and she had made Alison promise that Harlin would never see her this way. As a result, Alison had lied to Harlin that his aunt had travelled to some distant pack for treatment. After all, it was a big palace and she believed he would never have to see her again.
“Irene,” Alison responded with a warm smile as she stroked the little that was left of Irene’s hair. The physicians had suggested that it was an allergy. This had confused Alison who had argued that Irene had lived in the same place and had eaten the same food and water all her life. What reason did she have to suddenly develop an allergy now? The physicians had explained that allergies could develop at any point in time even after repeated use without any harm. So they had controlled the environment and her meals trying to see what it was that made her worse; they had come up with nothing. Her condition did not improve at all.
Her physicians abandoned the theory of the allergies and pronounced that she had a strange illness for which they had no name. They were the most experienced and best not just in the pack but in the entire werewolf kingdom yet they had never seen a case like Irene's.
A breakthrough had come when a particular physician had claimed that his grandfather who had studied in the Kingdom of Dome had seen this sort of illness before. According to him, his grandfather had described this sickness to him when he was very little and apparently it was something that affected vampires a lot. His grandfather had studied in the Kingdom of Dome before the vampires and werewolves became sworn enemies. He remembered the story vaguely but he knew the name of the flower that his grandfather had said worked wonders in firing the strange disease.
It had given Alison hope at least even though the flower was inaccessible to them.
“Harlin?” quipped Irene. After Irvette's disappearance, they had dedicated their lives to taking care of Harlin and they had had no time for anything else. Harlin had become the centre of their lives and they had in turn neglected their social lives. Things like marriage and love had become trivial matters to them. They only wanted to see their sister's son grow up to become extraordinary.
“He's doing very well, Irene,” she assured her sister with a smile. She considered telling her sister about Harlin's impending trip to the kingdom of Dome but thought better of it. It would be unfair to burden Irene with news of Harlin's temporary departure; it was best to wait things out.
“He's such a sweetheart. I hope he doesn't miss me too much?” quipped Irene with a weak smile. When Irene had started showing signs of her sickness, Harlin had visited her everyday. He had refused to leave her side except it was urgent. In fact, it was Harlin who had made them know that Irene's disease was not contagious because he had forced his way into her room so that she would not be alone. It was hard for Irene to be parted away from Harlin but she knew it was necessary. The young prince deserved a life and he would not get that by hanging around a sick woman all day. She had been sorry to insist Alison lie to him but it had been necessary.
“He asks about you everyday and I think he suspects you are in the palace. He is especially suspicious of the flock of physicians I keep in the palace,” returned Alison.
“He's smart. He takes after Irvette that way,” Irene managed a chuckle that left her spitting up blood. Alison took a clean towel and dabbed around the edges of her sister's mouth so she could dry the blood up.
“He does. He's such a sweet child. Make sure he doesn't cry too much at my funeral,” said Irene. Her words sent chills over Alison's body. She hated it when Irene spoke of death.
“Stop talking like that Irene, you're not dying, no one is,” she squeezed her sister's hand to assure her. She was not going to allow such a thing to happen on her watch.
“Ali, let's face it. Look at me. I'm the very image of death. I do not have much time left and you know it,” Irene was tired. She had lost hope of a cure and she wanted to end her life even at this moment. She was convinced that dying was better than continuing this way.
“I do not see death when I see you sister. Please, you cannot give up now. You must not,” said Alison. Her sister could not give up when she was on the verge of procuring the miracle flower.
“I’m dying, Ali. I have made peace with that. You must too for the sake of Harlin,” replied her sister with a weak smile.
“Irene, please stop it. We have come this far for you to give up like this. You must gather your strength and fight this thing. For Harlin's sake, hmm?”