I pouted despite myself. “I’m feeling fine, truly.”
“And what did the doctor say?”
I hesitated before answering, “He told me to keep resting for a while.”
Our longtime doctor was a good friend of my father’s, however, so I got the distinct sense that he’d been put up to saying as much. Ever since I’d come home, everyone had taken to fussing over me far too much.
As if he could tell how much time I’d spent deep in thought, His Highness regarded my writings with an admiring whistle. “To prevent this tragedy from happening again, you think we should station doctors at a temple in every region for the next four to five years—a way of ensuring that accurate knowledge of how to test for infection and contain the spread is disseminated among the people.” Sounding both impressed and dubious at once, he asked, “We’ve already circulated notices on how to avoid infection throughout the kingdom. Do you believe those won’t suffice, Eli?”
After some debate, I nodded. “I do. Remember those notices you issued about medicines that could slow the onset of the illness? Those reached the larger towns right away, but they never made it to the smaller hub towns. I’m sure the villages in the mountains never stood a chance. We can’t reach everyone by sending government officials around to spread the word, so how can we guarantee this knowledge takes firm root in the populace? That’s the question I was hoping to answer.”
I made use of the things I’d seen on my journey to Ralshen and reworked the measures that had never been formally implemented after the Ashen Nightmare outbreak fifteen years earlier. Remote villages had their own ways of doing things, and people who lived in the countryside were particularly religious.
“Many have gathered in the temples as we speak, but only to cure what ails them. If someone falls ill, the doctors can help them. A cure can be made. That’s not how we want the people to approach this. How can they avoid getting sick in the first place? I believe that’s the place where we ought to start.”
Poor villages, for example, feared disease a good deal more than the average citizen. One person falling ill could make it difficult for entire families to put food on the table. It would be a blow to their workforce, not to mention how expensive doctors and medicine were. To make matters worse, literacy rates were low in such villages. Even if a government official came along with a notice, it was unlikely to register. Yet even the poor villages—no, all the more because they were poor—were filled with devout believers. They would always be sure to visit their local temples and Ryzanian prayer halls.
Every town had a doctor. However, they were rarely consulted unless someone became sick or there was an outbreak of some kind. Thus, my idea was to ask the temples and Ryzanian officials to station a doctor in their halls for a few years; the priests could then internalize their knowledge and disseminate proper preventive measures to their congregation.
Nothing would change if we approached things the same way we had fifteen years ago. My plan was to be thorough in distributing knowledge and precautions and put an end to the epidemic within the year.
This was my solution to the issue with the red cloth Lilia had raised in her letter. Instead of denying people face masks because they believed it would make them immune to the disease, we would continue to distribute them as the need arose. But at the same time, we would make sure to raise awareness about the disease.
“I see,” His Highness responded thoughtfully. “The infected are still being rounded up in the temples, but no doubt they’ll be back on their feet by summer. So this is a plan for what to do after that.” Following a contemplative hum, he nodded. “I think it’s a good idea. Still...it won’t be easy.”
“I know...”
Sauslind kept church and state separate for a reason. In the past, temple officials had become so deeply entrenched in politics as to shake up the whole kingdom. As a consequence of this oversight, the Sauslind royal family and nobility had spent a long time working to limit the power of the church and cut it off from the government.
One wrong step, and the policy I’d devised could end up restoring the church’s power. No doubt many would be opposed. Still...
His Highness agreed with my plan. “All the same, containing the epidemic is our topmost priority at the moment. Besides, I did make the call to gather the sick at the temples... This may well be the best possible time to form a united front.” He also added that it would make sense to combine it with the idea I’d mentioned a while back about imparting women with medical knowledge.
Feeling buoyed, I nodded back at him. I was happy that he’d approved of my idea, of course, but it also filled me with confidence that he’d said all the same things I’d been thinking. It reassured me that the two of us were on the same page.
The thought of that brought me immense joy.
~.~.~.~
His Highness smiled softly, but soon his eyes landed on another page. “What is—”
With a start, I rushed over and clutched the offending paper to my chest. “Erm, you see...”
Even in the dim light of the room, it was easy to see the blush on my face—as well as His Highness’s small, teasing grin. I was so embarrassed to be caught in the act that I feared my face might truly combust. I began stammering out a string of excuses, claiming that I’d wanted to report to him on the progress of my work or that I had a request to make, only to jerk my head up when I felt him draw closer.