Chapter 5

Baron Dorian Van had an advanced illness that didn't respond to common treatments or the magical therapies available in the capital. The doctor closed his bag carefully, avoiding Priscilla's eyes as he spoke.

"We've tried everything possible, Lady Priscilla. There's no standard treatment that can reverse this at his current stage."

Lara clenched her hands, staring at the floor as if hoping it would give a different answer. Priscilla, on the other hand, didn't move right away. She just watched the doctor, searching for some mistake in what he'd just said.

"There has to be another option," she said, her voice steadier than she actually felt.

The doctor shook his head slowly.

"If there were, I'd have already used it."

Dorian sat on the sofa, his gaze lowered. He showed no surprise, no anger. Only a weary calm that hurt worse than any reaction would have.

Priscilla stepped forward.

"What about high-level magic? Imperial healers? Some specialized mage?"

"They've already been consulted," the doctor replied. "No one agreed to intervene, or they flat out said they couldn't."

Lara moved a little closer to Priscilla.

"My lady, maybe we should rest a bit and think more clearly tomorrow."

"There's no tomorrow to think," she answered without looking at her.

Dorian raised his eyes slowly.

"Priscilla."

His voice was soft, but enough to stop her.

She turned toward him.

"I don't need you talking to me like this is something normal."

Dorian didn't answer right away. He stood carefully, bracing himself on the back of the sofa before walking a few steps toward the window. He coughed once — dry, controlled, as if trying to hide it even now.

"It's not the first time I've heard something like this," he said at last.

Priscilla watched him.

"I'm not going to accept that."

"You're not in a position to accept or reject it."

The sentence wasn't harsh — just realistic. That was what bothered her most.

Lara intervened cautiously.

"My lord, perhaps we could search in other territories, or send letters to the magic academy."

"We already did," Dorian replied without turning. "The answer will be the same."

Priscilla felt the room shrinking around her.

And at that moment, something inside her shifted.

A memory that wasn't hers, but lingered all the same.

Ender Hall.

The blind duke from the novel.

The man who lost everything after being abandoned by the original Priscilla.

The same man who, in the story, was "saved" by Rebeca.

Priscilla's fingers tightened slowly.

"There's someone who can do it."

Lara looked at her, confused.

"Lady Priscilla?"

Dorian also turned his head slightly.

"Who are you talking about?"

She hesitated for a second.

Because saying that name out loud felt like crossing a line.

"Ender Hall."

The air changed.

Even the doctor, who was already getting ready to leave, stopped.

Dorian didn't react immediately. He just stood still for a few seconds, as if weighing whether he'd heard correctly.

"Duke Hall," he repeated finally.

Priscilla nodded.

"He's the only one who can save you."

Lara's eyes went wide.

"But... he's the duke you—"

"I know," Priscilla interrupted.

Dorian sat down again slowly.

"I'm not going to ask for help from someone whose engagement you ended like that."

The sentence was simple, free of direct judgment, but enough to sting.

Priscilla lowered her gaze for a moment.

The doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Lady Priscilla, with respect, Duke Hall doesn't usually accept visits of that kind. Much less personal requests."

"Then I'm not asking for a visit," she replied. "I'm going."

Lara nearly choked.

"You? Alone?"

"Yes."

"That's insane."

Priscilla turned to her.

"My father is dying."

Silence fell again.

Dorian closed his eyes for a second.

"Priscilla."

"I'm not going to sit around waiting."

He stood once more, slower this time.

"It's a closed-off place, cold to strangers, and he doesn't receive just anyone."

Priscilla held his gaze.

"I'm not just anyone."

That answer hung in the air.

Dorian watched her closely for several seconds.

Then he spoke calmly.

"So you're going to see a man who has no reason to help you."

"I'll give him one."

"Which is?"

Priscilla lowered her voice a little.

"Money. That's his work."

Lara let out a nervous laugh.

"That doesn't sound very convincing when you're talking about a duke. He's rich."

"It's all I have," she answered. "If I end up owing him, it doesn't matter. I'd rather save my dad."

Dorian said nothing for a long moment.

The doctor finally spoke.

"My lord, I should take my leave. I'll leave instructions to manage the pain, but there isn't much more I can do."

Dorian nodded without looking at him.

After the doctor left, the silence grew heavier.

Lara stayed near the door, unsure whether to remain or go.

Priscilla was the first to move.

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

"No," Dorian said immediately.

She stopped.

"Why?"

"You're not going alone."

Priscilla looked at him in surprise.

"It isn't necessary."

"Yes, it is."

She frowned.

"Father, you're in no condition to travel."

Dorian met her eyes firmly.

"And you're in no condition to face the Hall duchy unprepared."

Lara glanced between the two of them.

"Lady Priscilla, maybe the baron has a point."

He answered bluntly.

"I'm going with you."

Priscilla's eyes widened.

"No."

"Yes."

"You're sick."

"And you're making impulsive decisions."

She stepped forward.

"This isn't impulsive."

"Leaving tomorrow to demand something from your ex-fiance is."

Priscilla went quiet. Then she nodded and continued more calmly.

"You're right. If we're going to ask Ender Hall for help, I'll do it properly. Formally. No mistakes."

He watched her.

"Why are you doing this?"

Priscilla held his gaze. The old daughter wouldn't have cared whether this man lived or died. But this one did.

"Because you're my father."

The words caught the baron off guard. He hadn't expected to hear something so warm and hopeful from his daughter.

Priscilla took a deep breath.

And for the first time since arriving in this world, she understood that what lay ahead wouldn't be a simple negotiation.

It was going back across a line the old Priscilla had already destroyed.

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