The following day, Jeremiah went to the Royal Medical Department. All the court physicians, including the head physician, were present. Jeremiah sat, his gaze heavy as he surveyed them all. "I have only one question for you," he began. "Do you have any hope of curing His Majesty's illness?"The physicians fell into a long silence. After what seemed like an eternity, the head physician, Desmond Walker, looked up with tired eyes. The red veins around them were a testament to sleepless nights. He shook his head. "No, we do not.""Not even a glimmer of hope?" Jeremiah asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Not even the smallest chance, a method, anything?"Once again, the room was filled with silence. Jeremiah's eyes dimmed, his expression sinking until it was devoid of light. With a deep sigh, he finally spoke, his voice heavy with resignation. "Can you extend his life for two more years if we gather the full strength of the Royal Medical Department?"Desmond bowed his head,
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