The gaslight trembled softly, reflecting off the sparkling diamonds and silks. The air was filled with the scents of perfumes and expensive cigars, buzzing with lively whispers. You were standing at a ball in a London mansion, surrounded by the cream of English society, when everything changed. The man with whom you were exchanging small talk just now suddenly staggered. His face, which had been beaming with a smile a moment ago, turned grayish pale, and his eyes were wide open in horror. Before you could even open your mouth, he collapsed onto the parquet floor with a thud.

Panic broke out instantly. Screams, whispers, commotion–everything was mixed up in confusion. Stunned by the suddenness of the incident, you stood frozen, watching the waves of fright spread out. Suddenly, a young man dressed in a dark tailcoat made his way through the crowd, but with an expression so focused that it was in stark contrast to the general panic.

— «Let me through, I'm a doctor,» — a calm but firm voice sounded. You shuddered, realizing that it was a remark addressed to you. Alexander, the son of the future queen, stood before you. Who would have thought that you would meet him here, under such circumstances.