CHAPTER 9 Who Could Turn Down a Free Back-Pain Relief Potion?

Henrietta

"You want me to talk about me? But I'm annoying—Wait, of course, you still need to know about the guards." I stared up at Keith from the table. It was probably foolish to let the Dark Overlord cast spells on me, but he could kill me any time he wanted, and there wasn't much point in fighting when I'd volunteered. I explained what I'd learned that morning. "When the castle's gate golem didn't attack me, everyone assumed I was just here to challenge you to a normal duel. They're all the rage in North Sumbria, or so I'm told."

"Really?" Keith looked taken aback, but he continued to carefully brush the spell around my shoulder.

"So said Sithli, and he knows a lot about it, since his brother Sethli moved there last summer." I resisted the urge to turn my head and watch him as Keith circled the worktable. It was a surprisingly nice worktable, and very comfortable to lie on. It was also the exact right size for me … Come to think of it, I was pretty sure this table had a house-sized golem on it when I was here yesterday. Best not to question a Dark Lord's table, though. "Did you know that Grand Duchess Calisto allows anyone with a certified trade registry to compete in a test to immigrate? Even apprentices!"

"I did not." Keith grimaced. "And I don't care to have my skilled workers poached like that. What could she have possibly offered them that was incentive enough?"

"Free health care." Just saying it left me in awe. My father would have had an aneurysm. "And a five-day work week."

"Pathetic," Keith scoffed, continuing to ink down the other side of my body. "My minions have a four-day work week. Everyone in the Dark Enchanted Forest knows that. And we have a necromancer who resurrects them or reanimates them in case of accidents. If it's reported fast enough, they can be revived with no side effects whatsoever."

"Still, who could turn down a free back-pain relief potion?" I said. Even growing up a royal, we didn't have very many pain relief potions—or maybe I just didn't have any. Mother was always saying things like, "Life isn't about having fun; it's about persevering through pain and suffering," or "If you thought having a broken arm was bad, you should try wearing heels instead of those ugly training boots."

Though now that I thought about it … a broken arm might actually be more painful? And Mother did have a personal royal apothecary that produced other potions at her leisure.

But I digressed.

Keith looked contemplative as he completed the ink trail down my side and around my feet. He looked away while he drew between my legs, up to my knees and back down again.

Leave it to an Arcane Sage to not even need to watch what they were doing while inking out a spell!

Keith finished connecting the circle of spell script with a flourish, then put aside his ink and brush. His eyes looked off in the distance, probably checking his character sheet or notification tab. A moment later, Tulith stepped into the doorway, waiting for direction.

"Send a group of raiders into North Sumbria and gather up any wayward minions who haven't already passed the duchy's citizenship exams," he ordered. "Also, Rufus should have just returned this morning. Find him and send him out to get me no less than three healers. I want it done by this time next week."

"Yesss, Your Viciousnesss." Tulith curtsied. "Right away, Your Viciousnesss."

"Well, that's settled." Keith smiled down at me. A very toothy smile. He had nice teeth.

I hesitated but asked, "You aren't going to drag back the ones who passed Grand Duchess Calisto's test? Why?"

If my father discovered that his taxable subjects had run off to another land, he would cry treason and haul them all back kicking and screaming. Then he would make a few into examples so it didn't happen again.

"Paperwork," Keith announced.

"What?"

"You heard me." The Dark Overlord shuddered. "My illustrious northern neighbor is a sadist, and her favorite thing to do is to send me large swathes of foreign rights and trade requisitions mixed with incredibly tempting intellectual tidbits. Do you think I could touch anyone who's completed the immigration registration into North Sumbria without having to go through a wagonload of bureaucracy for the trouble?"

"But you're the Dark Overlord!"

"I'm still king of Nilheim, ruler of the Dark Enchanted Forest. I can take time to master magic and create golems and foil assassinations because my carefully crafted system of oppression requires a reasonable amount of paperwork."

"I see." It made sense when he put it that way.

"Another reason for the four-day work week. Magic is my hobby, not my job." Keith waved at the ink surrounding me, and it began to glow. "Are you ready, Princess?"

I braced myself. "Ready as I'll ever be."

He smiled again. "Don't worry. This should only hurt a lot."