The physician gave a sharp, resolute nod. "I understand. I will do everything in my power to keep him stable, but you must hurry."
"Eilika, let's go," Sylvian urged, impatience radiating off him.
"Joanna," Eilika called out, turning to the maid. "If Roman asks for me, tell him I have gone to bring the medicine. Tell him not to be scared. He needs to stay brave." She cast one last, lingering gaze at her mother-in-law, a silent vow to return with the cure passed between them.
Without waiting for a response, she and Sylvian turned and hurried out of the room. As they crossed the grand hall, Maurice, who had just stepped in from outside to check on the Duke's condition, stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened as he took in their determined expressions and travel-ready attire.
"Your Grace? Sylvian?" Maurice called out, his voice thick with alarm. "Is the Duke—?"
"Where are you two going?" Maurice asked, his voice stern as he intercepted them near the heavy oak doors.
