After a while,the imperial messenger was called into Lucas's study. The messenger stood in the study while Lucas sat behind the desk, his fingers intertwined together, eyes sharp.
"I will prepare a reply," he said.
Serena watched him in silence, her expression unreadable as Lucas dipped his pen into the ink.
"To His Majesty's Council," Lucas began, his voice steady. "In light of the current epidemic, the Selwyn Duchy is willing to share the elderberry-based treatment that has shown promising effects against the influenza outbreak. However, this cooperation will proceed under the following conditions:
One—Selwyn Duchy must be acknowledged as the originator of the treatment.
Two—the treatment must remain accessible to all regions, and shall not be monopolized, altered, or restricted by the imperial court.
Three—the Duchy will maintain autonomy over the production and distribution of the medicine within our borders.
Four—the Empire is requested to provide medical supplies, trained healers, and support for field operations in return.
Let it be known that this act is not of pride, but of duty—to save lives."
He signed the letter with swift strokes, stamped it with the Duchy's seal, and handed it to the messenger.
"Deliver this with haste," Lucas said. "And tell them—we are not their enemy. But we will not be their pawn."
The messenger bowed before leaving.
Four days passed. The Duchy held its breath.
The reply arrived just before dawn. The imperial seal was unmistakable, glinting crimson and gold in the light as Lucas carefully broke the wax. Serena and Lucia stood nearby, tension palpable.
Lucas unfolded the letter, scanning it quickly. His eyes narrowed.
"What does it say?" Lucia asked.
Lucas read aloud, "To the noble House of Selwyn, the Imperial Council acknowledges your findings and expresses gratitude for your efforts in combating the epidemic. Your terms are accepted—with an amendment."
He paused.
"The Empire requests access to Selwyn's medical camps for observation and further study of the treatment. In return, the Empire shall dispatch skilled healers, physicians, apothecaries, and resources to assist."
Lucas exhaled slowly, lowering the letter. "They agreed."
Lucia's shoulders dropped in relief. Serena gave a small nod, her expression calm.
"They're trying to keep us close," Serena murmured, "but for now, this is the best outcome we could hope for."
Lucas folded the letter. "Then let's prepare. The empire will be watching."
A week later, just past noon, a line of carriages arrived at the Northern Gate. Their black lacquered sides bore the crest of the imperial court. Guards stood at attention. People stopped and watched from a distance, their eyes wary but curious.
Lucas stood at the camp entrance, dressed in a simple coat. Serena and Lucia stood beside him, both wearing their protective masks and gowns.
The carriage door opened.
From within stepped three figures. The first was a tall man with sharp eyes, dressed in silver-trimmed robes—an Imperial Alchemist. The second, a woman in pale violet with a scroll case in hand, likely an official scribe. The last, a young apothecary with curious eyes and gloved hands.
"I am Alchemist Varrin of the Imperial Medical Division," the tall man said formally. "We've come by order of His Majesty to observe the treatment process and offer assistance."
Lucas extended his hand. "Welcome to the Selwyn Duchy. We're grateful for your support."
Serena added, "We'll be transparent in our methods. Lives matter more than pride."
Varrin's expression was blank. "Good. That is what we expect too."
As they were led through the camp, the observers took notes, watched the sick being treated with elderberry syrup, and questioned the apothecaries. Catherine, explained the preparation while Lucia gently guided frightened children and comforted patients.
By nightfall, Varrin approached Serena.
"This treatment... it shows promise. Perhaps even a cure. You may have saved more than the Duchy, Duchess."
Serena simply said, "We'll save everyone we can."
The air around the medical camp had shifted. Where cries of anguish once echoed, there was now silence—heavy, cautious, but no longer hopeless. The elderberry syrup had been administered regularly, and slowly, patients began to show signs of recovery.
Children once feverish now sat up, sipping warm broth. The elderly, who had been thought beyond saving, stirred from their sickbeds with grateful tears. Every tent, once shadowed by despair, now held flickers of life.
Lucia walked down the central aisle between rows of patients. A small girl tugged at her sleeve. "Miss… I don't feel so hot anymore. Can I go home soon?"
Lucia smiled behind her mask. "Soon. Just a little more rest, alright?"
Cherry, sleeves rolled up and hands stained from mixing, rushed toward Serena with a half-finished bottle in hand. "We're almost out of fresh elderberries, but the nearby village agreed to send more by cart tomorrow."
Serena, tired but unwavering, nodded. "Good. Distribute what we have left to the critical cases. We'll make it last."
At the end of the row, Lucas stood with Alchemist Varrin. The imperial man, normally aloof, looked around with furrowed brows.
"I won't lie," he muttered, "I expected this to be a desperate experiment. But you've stabilized over half your camp."
Lucas folded his arms. "Mother believed it was worth trying. Now we know it is."
Just before midnight, a bell rang from the southern watchpost.
A new cart arrived, bearing not only elderberries, but letters—thank-you notes from neighboring towns. Some had already begun preparing the syrup based on Selwyn's instructions sent ahead. Hope was no longer contained within the duchy.
That night, Serena sat in her tent alone. The lamp flickered beside her, casting a golden light over the open pages of Charles's book. She gently touched the name.
"Rest easy," she whispered. "Your words are saving them."