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Chapter Thirty–One
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The event stretched long into twilight, and by the time the final herb demonstration concluded, the air in the Grand Assembly Hall felt charged–alive with whispers, awe, and restless admiration.
The presiding elder struck the gong one last time, signaling the close of the conference. Servants began clearing tables, the scent of dried herbs and burning oil mingling in the air. Physicians clustered in tight groups, still murmuring about the young healer who had turned the night upside down.
But before anyone could leave, a tall, silver–haired man in ceremonial robes stood from the high dais–one of the appointed President of the Medical City. His very presence demanded silence, and instantly, all conversation died away.
He looked over the sea of faces, his eyes settling on Adrian.
“Before we adjourn,” he said, his deep voice carrying with effortless authority, “there is one more matter to address.”
Every head turned toward Adrian. The young man stood calmly in the center aisle, hands clasped behind his back, face unreadable.
The President continued, “What we witnessed tonight was not chance. The duel, the test, the identification of a deadly compound–each of these proves a mastery of observation and instinct that few physicians ever achieve. Adrian Cole,” he said, inclining his head slightly, “you have displayed not only skill, but integrity. The Medical City needs people like you.”
A low murmur rippled through the crowd.
The President raised his hand. “Therefore, I propose that Adrian Cole be formally invited to join the Medical City. As one of our own.”
The words struck like a thunderclap.
The audience erupted instantly. Some gasped, others applauded. A few exchanged astonished looks, unable to believe what they were hearing.
“To join the Medical City? That’s an honor reserved for the most elite scholars!”
“He’s barely out of his twenties!”
“No one’s ever been invited immediately after the conference!”
Even Elder Vaughn, seated to one side, tilted his head slightly with approval. “A wise decision,” he murmured.
Dr. Lander, however, sat rigid in his seat, his jaw clenched so tightly that the veins in his neck bulged. His humiliation was complete.
Catherine turned toward her grandfather, astonished. “Grandfather… did you have something to do with this?”
Mr. Morritis gave a small, knowing smile. “Perhaps a little persuasion. After all, a man like that should not wander without a home. The Medical City could use a conscience like his.”
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Adrian looked from the President to Catherine’s grandfather, then slowly inclined his head. “I appreciate the offer,” he said softly.
The President nodded. “Then you accept?”
Adrian hesitated.
The hall went still again, every eye on him.
Finally, he said, “I will accept–but under one condition.”
“Name it.”
“I don’t want a post or title,” Adrian said simply. “No office, no rank, no authority. I will serve as a neutral member–free to work, research, and heal as I see fit.”
His tone was quiet but resolute, the kind that brooked no argument.
The physicians exchanged startled glances.
“Neutral?”
“Who refuses a rank in the Medical City?”
“Is he mad? A seat in the council guarantees prestige, wealth, power—”
The President, however, studied him closely, curiosity softening into faint admiration. “And why,” he asked, ” would you refuse such a thing?”
Adrian’s eyes met his steadily. “Because I’ve seen what power does to people. Most here do not seek medicine to heal–but to rule. They talk about helping the sick, but what they truly want is to be remembered. To have their names carved into marble walls.”
His gaze swept slowly across the hall, calm but cutting. “If I wanted fame, I’d let my work speak for me. If I wanted power, I’d stop healing and start commanding. Neither interests me.”
A heavy silence fell. His words sank into the room like stones sinking into water.
Even those who had whispered against him earlier now found themselves unable to look him in the eye.
Catherine, standing beside him, watched with quiet wonder. “You really don’t care about power?” she asked softly.
Adrian’s expression gentled. “Power fades,” he said. “Titles fade. But the people we save–they don’t. The life we restore is what lasts. That’s enough for me.”
Catherine smiled faintly. “You sound like my grandfather when he was young.”
Mr. Morritis chuckled under his breath. “A compliment I haven’t earned in decades,” he murmured.
The President’s eyes gleamed with approval. “Then it is settled. Adrian Cole shall be welcomed into the Medical City as a neutral member–free of title, bound only by his oath to heal.”
The crowd burst into applause. Even those who envied him could not deny their respect.
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Elder Yough Jeaned toward the President, his voice low but audible enough to reach Adrian. “You’ve just brought in a storm, old friend. The boy will change everything.”
The President nodded faintly, “Then may the City be strong enough to weather him.”
As the applause swelled, Adrian turned to Catherine, “You asked earlier if I’d take the offer,” he said.
She tilted her head. “And you said you wouldn’t.”
He smiled slightly, “I changed my mind. There’s still something I need to find here.”
Her brow furrowed, “Mr. Morritis?”
Adrian nodded once, “His illness isn’t what it seems. I accepted so I could stay close and uncover what’s really causing it,”
Catherine’s breath caught, “You think it’s…?”
“I don’t know yet,” Adrian said quietly. “But I will.”
The applause died down as the President stepped forward again, giving the final closing remarks. The conference was officially over.
Outside, the moonlight bathed the steps of the Grand Assembly Hall in silver. Physicians and scholars poured out in clusters, their voices buzzing with talk of Adrian Cole–the prodigy who refused titles, who spoke against power, who saw through poison and deceit alike.
Catherine lingered beside him as the hall emptied. “You really meant what you said back there, didn’t you?” she asked softly,
Adrian looked up at the stars, their faint glow reflecting in his eyes. “Every word.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
