How to cure a Dark Lord

My head hurt so badly. I knew I wasn't dead but I was about to be. All I had to do was open my eyes and I could see whether I was in the world of the living or the dead. Papa had said that the dead felt no pain. They felt nothing at all. So I knew I was not dead.

Despite my fear and dread, I opened my eyes. Even that was a struggle. At first all I saw was a blur but soon every thing got clearer and found I was kneeling on a high platform with my hands tied behind my back. My lovely floral dress was tattered beyond recognition and bloody. I felt the bruises from being tortured all over my body.

I looked up and around me. There were people standing and watching, some were passing by but they tried to see what would become of me. I hoped not to see someone that I knew so I looked back down.

I felt someone roughly grab my hair which was somehow still in a plait despite all the strands sticking out of it. I was forced to look up.

I saw him, he was there. His golden eyes were staring back at me. He sat on his luxurious golden chair with his legs crossed and a smirk on his face, and oh how badly would I love to be the one to wipe that smirk off his face.

I felt a cold blade pressed unto my neck. This was the reason I was here. Today was my execution. The day I died. I was not afraid of dying. Rather I was pleased with myself. He was going to die too and that was all that mattered.

My head was laid on a block and I waited as I watched the actions of the executioner without being able to see his face. He lifted the sword and didn't wait to bring it down...

I jerked up from my sleeping position gasping for air. It was just a dream. It was only a dream. I brushed my hair backwards with my fingers while taking a deep breath.

I was very nervous because of tomorrow. Tomorrow would be the day my fate would be decided. By morning, I would know whether I would leave or die.

I had found the tunnels Rowland described and turns out, there were a lot of intricate passageways in this castle that not many knew about. In fact a few.

But I didn't leave. I stayed. I wouldn't run like a coward. I was ready.

I hadn't seen the king since the day I had an argument with him. Could that even be called an argument? I was more like talking to a brick wall.

Gilbert came each night after that day to take the king's medicine to him personally. I have to admit it saved me a lot of stress.

I got out of bed and headed to the window and opened it wide so the cool air could come in and blow my hot head. The moon was in a cresent shape and hidden among milky white clouds that glowed in the dark.

Could Papa see me right now? If he could, what did he think of me?

* * *

I woke up from the incessant knocking on the door. Who was it so early in the day? I had a bit of a headache already because after the dream I had, I wasn't able to sleep till it was dawn.

Could it be that it was the guards here to take me to where I would be executed. But then I thought against it. I don't think the guards would have the patience to knock.

I sat up properly

"I'm awake, come in."

I had no idea who exactly was coming in but I sure knew I was ready for anything. The door knob jiggled just a little and the door was opened. It was Gilbert and Mirabel. I suddenly felt a wave of deja vu.

Gilbert bowed slightly and so did Mirabel.

"Good morning, Miss Frieda. I hope you had a good night's rest." Gilbert began.

My head throbbed softly and I managed a thin smile for him. "I tried."

Gilbert nodded. It seemed he understood what I might be going through.

"And your unrelenting effort has spoken volumes for you."

I gave him a confused look

Gilbert cleared his throat and assumed his formal stance, having one hand at his back and the other resting at his side while he talked.

"His Majesty sent me here to thank you for your efforts on treating his disease."

So the king knew to thank me now?I would have rolled my eyes if my head didn't hurt as much. This still did not pass as gratitude, but I was going to take it anyway because life was too short to try to teach the Dark Lord good manners.

"He also sent me here to congratulate you for being the first physician to improve his health drastically." the butler added.

My eyes widened to the size of saucers. I wasn't sure I was hearing correctly at that moment. If the king was congratulating me, that means I didn't fail. That means my cure was effective, regardless of the nightshade poison. That means, I wasn't going to die?

"He also asked me to let you know that as a part of your reward for curing him he invites you to the first ball held in ten years to celebrate his better health." Gilbert announced in a tone that was much lighter, indicating that he was also pleased to be announcing this to me.

"I-I don't know what to say. Thank you for the information, Gilbert."

Gilbert nodded. "You have his Majesty to thank and yourself. Your hard work has paid off." He nodded.

"Now, if you'll excuse me." Gilbert bowed, turned around and left the room.

I looked at Mirabel and she looked back at me as the butler left and we both squealed.

"Miss Frieda, you did it!" she crushed me in a hug before I could even realize what was going on.

"I can't believe I did it." I muttered to myself.

"I'm so glad Miss Frieda. I was so scared something might happen to you. You're such a good person." I saw genuine relief on her face and I felt touched that she was actually worried about me.

"But now you're saved. Gilbert says the king will free you and let you go back to your village." She clapped excitedly.

"I can go back to Mirideth now, back to the infirmary." I smiled. It was all I ever dreamed of. To be able to return to the infirmary papa and I had worked so hard to build. Everything would be quite different now since I was the only one.

So the Dark Lord decided to keep me alive. That means he felt his symptoms improving. But in the next few days, it was going to deteriorate till he died. By then I would be long gone.