I spent hours pacing in my room, rehearsing every word and trying to anticipate each objection Father might raise. My notes lay in a meticulous stack on my desk, organized around themes like health, productivity, and prosperity—terms that appealed to him as a ruler, a man who valued results and evidence. I knew that if I showed even a hint of idealism, he would dismiss this as another of his “headstrong daughter’s whims.” So I would have to present something undeniable, something that looked as pragmatic as his own plans for the duchy.

The truth was, though, that I had seen real changes. The staff were healthier. There were fewer coughs echoing down the stone hallways, fewer red noses and watery eyes. People walked a little straighter, smiled a bit more, and even the air seemed lighter somehow. These weren’t just minor changes to me; they were little victories. If Father could see that this wasn’t some passing interest but something that could improve life for everyone in his lands, then perhaps he would listen. Perhaps he would finally take me seriously.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine defending my research in a whole other world. And yet, here I was, preparing to present my case. This time, though, the only “panelist” was my father, the duke.

With a deep breath, I gathered my notes, smoothed my dress, and headed to his study. My heart pounded with every step. This wasn’t just about getting his approval; this was about opening doors. Without his support, my ideas would never leave the walls of this castle. The villagers would continue living with those terrible practices, thinking illness was just a natural part of life. 

When I reached his study, I knocked and waited. He was already facing the door when I entered, his gaze fixed on me with a knowing look. It was as if he’d anticipated my arrival and even guessed what I’d come to discuss. The realization gave me a jolt of both nerves and determination—there would be no turning back now. His eyes met mine, calm but distant, as he gave a short nod—the kind he used with petitioners, a nod that said, “Yes, you may present your case.” It reminded me that, for all my hopeful enthusiasm, he wasn’t here to humor me. He was here to listen as he would to anyone else.

“Father,” I began, willing my voice to stay steady, “I have a proposal that could improve life in the duchy. I believe that simple hygiene practices could help our people. Basic habits like handwashing, regular cleaning, and keeping living spaces free from filth can increase productivity, reduce illness, and benefit us all.”

He raised an eyebrow, staying silent but motioning for me to continue. I dived into my points, my voice gaining confidence with each sentence. I recounted the results I had already observed among the castle staff. “With just a few adjustments, I’ve seen fewer illnesses among the servants. The handwashing, the cleaning of surfaces, and even the simple vinegar solution to remove bacteria and odors have made a difference.”

I kept my words measured, presenting each idea like a well-considered investment, something he could understand from a ruler’s perspective. “If we can implement these practices throughout the duchy, our people will suffer less from sickness. Less sickness means more people working, stronger men in the fields, healthier women to care for children. If we can reduce illness, we increase productivity, and a healthy duchy is a prosperous one.”

For a moment, he steepled his fingers, his face unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice was cautious, as if weighing the cost and practicality of my words. “Interesting, Liana. But tell me, what’s the cost? Because you must know, grand ideas are all well and good until they come to silver.”

I’d anticipated this. “The initial cost would be modest. I’ve found natural disinfectants, like vinegar and certain herbs, which can be sourced locally. We could grow the herbs ourselves and buy vinegar in bulk. As for soap-making, I’ve practiced it myself and found it affordable in larger quantities. With a small budget, I could train a few key people who, in turn, would teach others.”

He leaned back, his gaze skeptical. “It sounds impressive, Liana, but you know the people of this duchy. They’ve lived a certain way for generations. New ways are rarely welcomed.”

I nodded, prepared for this. “That’s why I’d start with gradual change. I’d introduce these ideas slowly, in just a few villages. If they see a benefit, the practices will spread naturally. People will see what keeps them healthier and want it for themselves.”

He held my gaze for a long time, as though searching for a crack in my resolve. I held his gaze just as firmly, feeling my heart race, trying to keep my expression steady. Inside, every second felt like climbing a mountain.

Finally, he sighed, giving me the tiniest of nods. “Very well, Liana. I’ll permit you to try it. But on a limited basis, and only for a few months. If you see no noticeable results, we’ll drop it.”

It took every ounce of willpower not to jump out of my chair in sheer relief. “Thank you, Father. I promise, I’ll make this work.”

He inclined his head, dismissing me, but as I walked away, my heart soared. I’d done it. I had convinced him. Now came the hard part—proving it was all worth it.

As I made my way back to my room, my mind was a whirlwind of plans. I would need a specific village, one close enough to the castle that I could visit regularly, but distant enough that the results could still impress Father. I would need to gather supplies, teach a few willing locals, and design a clear, simple way to monitor improvements.

The village nearest to the castle came to mind first. People there knew me and might be a little more receptive to new ideas. I could meet with the village head, explain my plan, and offer to provide them with a small batch of soap and vinegar solution as a trial. If they saw results, word would spread, and before long, other villages might approach us, curious about the “duchess’s remedy.”

By the time I reached my room, my head was buzzing with ideas. I could already picture small clusters of villagers gathered around, watching demonstrations on handwashing, scrubbing surfaces with vinegar and herbs, and realizing they had control over their health. These practices weren’t complicated; they were things anyone could do with the right knowledge. It was empowering, and I could only hope it would inspire the same hope in them as it did in me.

I took a deep breath, feeling a strange, exhilarating mixture of excitement and nerves. I had come this far, but the real work was only beginning. Seeing the difference among the castle staff had given me hope, but I knew the villagers would need even more convincing. 

I allowed myself a smile as I looked out my window toward the village beyond the castle walls.