There are doctors, there are master mages, and then there is Archduke Cassian.
To say Cassian's medical ward was state-of-the-art was a severe understatement. Located in the east wing of the manor, the infirmary looked less like a clinic and more like an aggressively sterilized palace. The floors were carved from imported white marble that physically repelled dirt, the air was filtered through centuries-old elemental wind-runes, and every single instrument on the silver trays cost more than a small provincial village.
Juni sat awkwardly on the edge of a levitating, velvet-cushioned examination table. She was wearing a soft linen gown, her golden hair tied back, and her magnificent silver-tipped wings pulled tight against her back. She looked terrified, though not of the medical equipment.
She was terrified of the bill.
