"Someone has poisoned the cake," the Royal Physician announced, his voice heavy with concern.
Sullivan's heart skipped a beat. "Is there a cure?" he asked urgently. "Give her the antidote, now!"
The Royal Physician sighed deeply, his expression reflecting the gravity of the situation. "If only it were that simple, Your Highness. The antidote is derived from a rare herb that grows only in the remote northern hills, at least a day's journey from here. And with the oppressive summer heat, the chances of finding that herb in bloom are slim, if not impossible."
Sullivan's brows furrowed in frustration. "Why haven't you kept a supply, knowing its importance?"
The Royal Physician shook his head. "Your Highness, no one has ever been poisoned within the palace walls. This is the first such incident in years. We do have a small reserve of the antidote, but..." He hesitated, glancing nervously at Sullivan.
"But what? If you have it, then give it to her!" Sullivan insisted, his voice rising.
"Only on the King's direct order can I administer it," the physician replied.
Sullivan turned to Nylie, who had been standing quietly by his side. "Then what's the problem? We need to save Dahlia. The antidote must be given to her!"
Nylie met his gaze with a solemn expression. "The King is not in the palace, Your Highness. His Majesty's permission is required before the herb can be used for Princess Dahlia," she explained.
The Royal Physician nodded solemnly, the weight of the situation pressing heavily upon him. "My hands are bound, Prince Sullivan. Without the King's authorization, I cannot administer the antidote. However, should I receive permission, I will not hesitate to save the Princess."
"Your Highness," Nylie interjected softly, "perhaps you should seek the Queen's approval. In the King's absence, she has the authority to grant it." Pausing, she added, "I will inform the Crown Prince as well; he might offer us his support."
Sullivan watched her retreat with a pensive expression, her words lingering in his mind. 'If Dahlia dies, everything will fall apart,' he mused grimly. Resolute, he turned his thoughts toward the Queen, though he harbored little hope that she would consent. Nonetheless, he was prepared this time.
As he turned back to the Royal Physician, Sullivan's voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "Ensure that no one enters this chamber—not even the Crown Prince. I showed you mercy yesterday, but today, I won't hesitate."
Sullivan wasted no time and headed straight for the Queen's manor. His unexpected presence stirred whispers among the servants, who exchanged curious glances and murmured amongst themselves.
"I wish to see Her Majesty," Sullivan declared firmly to the guard stationed at the chamber door. The guard hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty, before requesting the prince to wait. He quickly disappeared inside to announce Sullivan's arrival.
When the guard returned, he nodded curtly, signaling that Sullivan could enter. With resolute steps, Sullivan crossed the threshold, his mind focused solely on the mission at hand. He finally came to a stop in front of the Queen, who was elegantly seated on a chaise, her expression unreadable.
"Prince Sullivan seeking an audience with me? How unexpected," Queen Verlina remarked, a hint of curiosity laced in her voice. "What is it that you want this time?" she inquired, her tone both sharp and disinterested.
"Your Majesty," Sullivan began, his voice steady yet deliberately humble, "someone has poisoned my wife. I need the cure. The royal physician informed me that the antidote is exceedingly rare and can only be administered with the King's permission. Since His Majesty is not present in the palace at the moment, I humbly request that Her Majesty grant the authorization for its use."
"Dahlia has been poisoned?" Queen Verlina exclaimed, her voice feigning shock, though Sullivan caught the subtle insincerity in her tone. In the next moment, her demeanor shifted, her eyes cold and unyielding. "You've come to the wrong person, Sullivan. I cannot permit the royal physician to administer the antidote to Dahlia. You should leave," she declared with finality.
Sullivan had anticipated her refusal; he knew the Queen too well to expect her cooperation. But he was prepared. "May I have a private word with Her Majesty?" he requested calmly.
"I refuse," Queen Verlina snapped, her gaze piercing.
"Her Majesty may come to regret that decision," Sullivan countered, his voice low but filled with quiet resolve.
Verlina's eyebrows arched in surprise, and a flicker of curiosity crossed her features. She gestured for her personal attendant to leave, her eyes never leaving Sullivan's. Once the chamber was emptied, she leaned forward slightly, her interest piqued. "Speak," she commanded.
Sullivan didn't waste a moment. "I have proof that Ainsley committed fraud in the military, under the guise of developing new arms," he stated, his voice firm and unwavering. "If you do not wish for this information to reach the King, you will allow the royal physician to administer the antidote to Dahlia," he demanded.
This was a card he had hoped to play later, but to save Dahlia, Sullivan knew he had to use it now. He couldn't let her die, and he was willing to do whatever it took to ensure her survival.