Eliza’s POV
Ryder said goodbye to me and I walked back into the pack house where I found Abbie arranging some flowers into vases. She looked really deep in thoughts and I admired how she always paid attention to detail.
“What do you think he'll be like?” Abbie asked thoughtfully as she noticed me beside her.
“Dr. Adams?” I wondered aloud. “I hope he’s as talented as Ryder said he is. I want to believe he can really help Father.”
“You really like this Ryder don't you? I see the smile on your face when you hear his name. “ Abbie grinned at me knowingly. “But, I do hope that we will have good news?” Abbie stepped back, admiring her arrangement of flowers.
“I’m trying not to get my hopes too high,” I admitted, grabbing a small bouquet of wildflowers I’d picked from the garden the previous day to use as a centrepiece. “But I can’t help it… I need something good to come from all of this.”
Abbie looked at me. “We all want that for your father, Princess Eliza. He deserves a chance. He is a good king.”
As the hours rolled on, the sense of anticipation deepened. Alex joined us, emitting a flurry of nervous energy as he checked the time repeatedly. “He should be here any minute,” he announced, glancing toward the entrance.
And with that there was a soft knock on the door.
“Showtime,” I murmured, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves.
“I’ll get it!” Alex said, practically sprinting to the door.
The moment he opened it, a man stepped in—a tall figure with a confident posture, dark hair streaked with grey, and framed by a well-tailored suit. Dr. Adams exuded an air of authority and experience.
“Good day,” he greeted, his voice smooth yet strong. “You must be the family I’ve heard so much about.”
“Yes, that’s us!” Alex stepped aside, inviting him in. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
As the doctor entered, I took a moment to observe him closely. His eyes were sharp and alert, yet there was a kindness in his expression that put me somewhat at ease.
“Not at all,” he replied, his gaze sweeping over the room and landing on me. “I’m here to help, and I appreciate the warm welcome.”
“Please, come in and make yourself comfortable,” I said, motioning toward the table.
Once we all settled in, I couldn’t shake the nervous energy humming beneath my skin. “Dr. Adams,” I began, “thank you for being willing to see my father. I know you’re aware of his condition, but—”
“—you’re looking for hope,” he finished for me, nodding gravely. “I understand. Why don’t you tell me a little more about your father and his current treatment? I want to grasp the full picture before we explore any alternatives.”
Dr. Adams listened intently, taking notes on a small pad, nodding thoughtfully as I spoke.
When I finished, he sighed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “It sounds like the situation is difficult, to say the least. However, I am confident that I can help.”
I nodded. “Yes, and we’re running out of time. It’s hard to watch him fade away.”
Dr. Adams leaned forward, his expression earnest. “The treatment I’ve developed is experimental but has shown considerable promise in my previous trials. The risks and benefits would need to be weighed carefully, but I believe it may offer a chance for improvement.”
My heart raced at his words, a flicker of hope igniting once more. “What does the treatment involve?”
“There are various phases,” he began, “and the first would consist of a series of infusions tailored to your father's specific health needs. It is crucial we monitor his reaction closely. Ideally, we would need to check him into a specialized facility where he can receive constant care.”
“I see,” I murmured, absorbing everything he said. “And what kind of risks are we talking about?”
“Like all experimental treatments, there are potential side effects—some minor, others more severe. I will need to discuss these openly with your father. Transparency is imperative in every step of this process.”
“I understand,” I replied, feeling a sense of resolve solidifying within me. “Whatever risks must be taken, we owe it to him to try.”
Dr. Adams smiled faintly, appreciating my determination. “That’s the spirit. Let’s go speak with him, shall we?”
I exchanged glances with Jasmine and Alex, my determination bolstered by their silent encouragement.
We made our way upstairs, the weight of the moment heavy in the air. I could feel each of our heartbeats echoing in the silence as we approached my father’s room.
“Father?” I knocked gently before opening the door.
His eyes flickered open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face at the sight of us. “Eliza, Alex—good morning. What’s going on?”
“Dr. Adams is here,” I said, my voice steady even as my heart raced. “He’s come to talk to you about a potential treatment. Remember we discussed this?”
Father’s gaze shifted to the doctor, curiosity piquing. “Good of you to come,” he said, his voice laced with cautious hope.
“Good day your highness,” Dr. Adams replied, stepping forward. “I’ve reviewed your case, and I believe I have an innovative treatment that may be beneficial.”
The room fell silent as the gravity of the situation settled over us. My heart raced with anticipation and fear, praying for my father to embrace this chance as we all held our breath, ready for his response.
“I’m willing to listen,” my father finally said, his voice steady, with a glimmer of determination.
“Thank you for being open to this, Your Highness,” Dr. Adams said, his tone reassuring. “I want you to feel fully informed before we dive into anything. It’s your health, after all. Let’s start with an overview of the treatment plan.”
I watched my father’s expression shift as Dr. Adams outlined the phases, noting how his brows furrowed slightly, deep in thought. The doctor spoke with clarity, breaking down complex medical jargon into simpler concepts, ensuring my father understood every aspect.
As I listened, I found myself gripping the edge of the chair, anxiety bubbling just beneath the surface. I’d always known my father as a pillar of strength, but the fragility of his condition made every word strike a nerve. Each detail the doctor provided felt like a double-edged sword—offering hope while exposing the harsh reality of his illness.
“I appreciate the thorough explanation,” my father finally said, nodding slowly. “But what are the side effects you mentioned? What should I realistically expect?”
Dr. Adams took a moment before answering, clearly weighing his words. “The initial infusions can cause fatigue, nausea, and possibly temporary changes in mood or appetite. It’s crucial to remember that everyone’s body reacts differently, and while some side effects can be managed, others may require adjustments to the treatment plan as we go along.”
“I see,” my father replied, digesting this information. “And the goal of these treatments?”
“To stabilize your condition and potentially reverse some of the effects you’ve been experiencing,” Dr. Adams said. “We’ll monitor your progress closely, adapting as necessary. If successful, this could lead to long-term improvement.”
As he spoke, I felt a bubble of hope rising within me, warming me from the inside. My father’s gaze remained fixed on the doctor, and I could see determination growing behind his weary eyes. It was a fight he hadn’t given up on yet.
“I trust you know what you’re doing, Doctor,” my father said, the steadiness of his voice surprising me. “Let’s proceed cautiously, but I want to explore this option.”
Dr. Adams nodded, his professional demeanor softening slightly. “I assure you, Your Highness, I will be by your side throughout this process. I will provide you and your family with constant updates.”
“Good,” my father replied, his voice gaining strength. “I won’t shy away from taking risks if it means I can have a better shot at living again.”
I tried to fight back the tears that wanted to flood from my eyes as I watched silently. Dr Adams seemed to know exactly what he was doing.
“Step outside and I will call you back in shortly.” he turned to me and the others immediately exited the room leaving father alone with the doctor.
Closing the door behind us, my brother raised an eyebrow. “And now we just have to wait.”