Ravenna's POV
He was a king whose life was slipping away with every weak breath. The family doctor, confused and panicked, was useless—his fumbling hands only proving he didn't know what to do. He was a doctor for normal sicknesses, not for critical emergencies like this.
"He's choking!" someone shrieked, their voice sharp as glass.
"No—no, it's a heart attack, it must be!" a woman sobbed, her face a mask of grief.
I knew better. My eyes, trained by years of watching quietly, saw through the panic.
The old man's face had gone a terrible, dead blue—the sign of a blocked airway, not heart failure; the clot sat like a cork in a bottle while the doctor fumbled to uncork the wrong end—and even though I knew what needed to be done, I had no status to step forward, and no one cou
