The night before,

Edric paced the length of his daughter's chamber, his heart heavy with anxiety. Little Nastra lay bundled in layers of blankets on her bed, her small body trembling, and her cheeks flushed with fever.

The shifts between burning heat and icy cold sent waves of helplessness through him, as he tried to make sense of her erratic symptoms. He could hear her faint, pained whimpers, calling out between labored breaths, “Papa…Grandpapa…”

Each cry tore at his heart, and he clenched his fists, feeling utterly powerless. A group of royal physicians and advisors stood around him, their faces marked with confusion and concern, as they dived into a discussion attempting to remedy her condition.

“Are you certain there is nothing more we can do?” Edric demanded, his voice strained. “She was perfectly well in the dining hall, laughing all over with the King! And now…. now she can barely speak!”

A senior physician stepped forward, his brow deeply furrowed. “Your Highness, we have examined all possible causes, from dietary to environmental factors…there is simply nothing we can find. Her symptoms are erratic—no fever would cause such hot and cold spells in succession. I have never seen anything quite like it.”

Edric ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “So what am I to do? Stand by while my daughter suffers, helpless? There must be something, anything to ease her pain!”

Another physician, younger and more ambitious, interjected. “We could attempt a blend of cooling herbs, balanced with warmth-inducing tonics. If her temperature shifts could be stabilized, we might alleviate her symptoms.”

Edric’s eyes sparked with a brief glimmer of hope. “Do it. Whatever you need, do it.”

Two attendants quickly set to work, bringing forth various vials and herbs, their hands moving swiftly. The room filled with the faint scent of mint, lavender, and the sharp tang of rosemary.

It was past midnight, despite all the efforts they tried, Nastra, however, was still shivering harder, clutching her blankets as if they could shield her from the invisible torment wreaking havoc on her body.

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As they were still thinking hard on what to do, one of the older advisors looked at Edric. As if he had made a decision, he stepped close to Edric and hesitated slightly as he spoke. “Perhaps, Your Highness, it would be wise to alert His Majesty to the situation. The young princess’s condition is…unusual, to say the least. If this persists…”

Edric shook his head sharply. “No. My father would be deeply troubled, and there’s no telling how he might react. Nastra’s condition has to remain within this room for now. If her health doesn’t improve by morning, then…and only then…will I consider informing him.”

The advisors nodded, respecting his decision, though their concern remained palpable. They had seen how the king doted on Nastra, his cherished granddaughter, and how news of her suffering would likely drive him to drastic measures.

Hours passed, and the physicians continued their efforts—hot compresses, cold towels, and a myriad of herbal concoctions—but Nastra’s cries grew weaker. Her little hands clung to the edge of her blanket, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Papa…it hurts…”

Edric knelt beside her bed, his hand stroking her forehead as he forced a tender smile. “I’m here, my little one. Your papa is right here. And we’ll find a way to make this better. You’ll be well again soon, I promise.”

She opened her eyes for a moment, her gaze unfocused, and looked up at him with a fragile trust. “Will…will Grandpapa come? He always makes things better…”

Edric’s heart ached. He wished, more than anything, to see her smile again, to watch her laugh as she had just a day before. But how could he assure her of anything when he himself was drowning in uncertainty?

Another elder advisor approached him excitedly. “Your Highness! I suddenly remembered there is a healer in the mountains…a reclusive one who is rumored to have rare skills in curing ailments no others can. If I may suggest, perhaps we can seek her assistance…”

Edric looked up, a flicker of hope lighting his face. “Who is this healer? Why have I not heard of her before?”

“She rarely involves herself with nobility or the royal family, preferring to stay hidden from politics,” the advisor replied. “But if you send a trusted envoy to seek her, perhaps…”

Edric hesitated, but the desperation in his heart made the decision for him. “Send word. I don’t care what it takes. Bring her here as quickly as possible.”

The advisor nodded and immediately turned to set the plan in motion.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Edric remained by Nastra’s side, watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest, her breathing labored and faint. Every now and then, her small hand would reach out, grasping for comfort, and he would hold it tightly, murmuring reassurances he didn’t fully believe.

The night was long, and with each passing hour, Edric’s heart grew heavier, consumed by the fear of losing his precious daughter.

Finally, just before dawn, a hurried knock sounded at the chamber door. Edric rose, his heart pounding. The advisor returned, out of breath but determined.

“Your Highness…she has agreed to come.”

Edric stood up abruptly. Taking a deep breath, he turned to one of the advisors “help me take leave from the morning court session.” He paused for a while “Inform the king that this prince is having some important discussion with his few close advisors regarding the task that His Majesty has instructed this prince.”

“Yes,Your Highness”. A middle aged man answered as he volunteered to go and convey the second prince’s word.

Edric turned to look at the remaining three advisors in the room and instructed “one of you will follow me and Lord Ambric to go to the mountain and meet the healer, the other two will go to join the morning court with Lord Valen.” his lips curled up in a cold smile “lest they thought I’m skipping on my duties.”