“No!”
“What are you saying!”
The moment I said that, everyone erupted in protest, their voices blending into a chorus of disapproval.
I wanted to get vaccinated… but the opposition was too fierce. My hopes were dashed before they even had a chance to bloom.
“Medical texts clearly state that indiscriminate vaccination of those with frail constitutions is forbidden,” one of the court physicians declared, his voice laced with concern.
“And isn’t the Princess Consort known to have a delicate constitution?”
“How could we even dare to subject the Princess Consort’s precious body to such a procedure?” another added, aghast.
‘Yeah, I knew they’d be against it,’ I thought, a wave of disappointment washing over me. ‘But it still stings.’
‘I can’t even get vaccinated…!’ The unfairness of it all gnawed at me.
Should I try to sneak around and get it done in secret?
But if something went wrong, I couldn’t guarantee my safety. My body was… unique. Growing up consuming strange poisons had made me an unpredictable variable. If something went awry, the doctors would be in a terrible bind.
Prescribing treatments for me was a nightmare. From a physician’s perspective, I was the kind of patient they dreaded seeing walk through the door.
‘It can’t be helped, I suppose, but it’s still a little disheartening.’
If I couldn’t get vaccinated, then I absolutely needed to ensure everyone around me was protected. Their safety was now paramount to my own peace of mind.