"Gil…"
Prussia jumped at his younger brother's call. The small child was always requiring his attention, with a nightmare or something of the like. And Gilbert hated to see his little brother cry more than anything, well, not more than being hit over the head with a frying pan, but still, it made him feel guilty to see the small boy in distress.
"What is it bruder?" he asked as he opened the door. Ludwig just let out a small pained moan in response. Gilbert walked over to his brother's bed. The child was tangled in his sheets, blankets kicked away. Small beads of sweat were shining on his head. Bending down, Gilbert felt Ludwig's forehead with a careful hand. The boy's skin was burning under his palm. Alarmed, he drew back his hand.