Acting quickly, you send word to Marna, Isaac, any visiting nobles, and some of your most elite soldiers to take a "hunting trip" in the northern forests. You are sure that they will be safer there than in town. Despite some reservations, you decide to stay in Feroshire, lest the people think you are fleeing from a simple plague.
Marna and Isaac are away that very afternoon, and you set up waystations on the roads: no one out, no one in. You send your regrets to merchants travelling here for the fair, few though they may be, and offer to recoup their travel costs if they return next year.
The plague, unfortunately, is very much established in Feroshire at this point. Despite your best efforts to contain the sickness from spreading, and treating it when it does occur as best as the healer knows how, more and more fall ill. You send riders to the next towns over looking for doctors, but they return empty-handed, saying that other towns are similarly locked down at the moment.
People die. Many people die. Bodies are hauled away to be buried in a mass grave, the sick are separated, but still, people die. By your best count, nearly 35 people perish in May. Most are peasants of little note or travelers trapped by the quarantine, although a few of your soldiers do succumb. Thankfully, despite your presence in town, which does calm the people somewhat, you do not fall sick.
The month is over. The sickness still has its roots deeply in Feroshire, and you are cut off from all other help, it seems. Work stops on the towers and wall; life practically grinds to a halt, with the only business being the hauling of the dead and the frantic letting of the sick's blood. What will you do in this next grim month?