Dressed in a doctor's attire, I arrived at the grand gates of Karina's friend's estate, a nervous but determined look masking my true intentions.
"I'm here from Ride Clinic," I announced confidently to the gatekeeper, affecting a calm, authoritative tone. "I was informed there's an unwell person here. If I can't treat them, I won't charge a thing. If I succeed, however, my fee is one hundred gold coins."
The gatekeeper scowled, eyeing me skeptically. "We've had a few fraudulent healers already, but we're desperate," he muttered, opening the gate with a resigned sigh. His suspicion was evident in his rough demeanor—no formal greetings, no tea, just a direct escort to the patient's room.
