The Goblin's Heir

Chapter Fifty: The Good Doctor

Days flutter past. Weeks rush blow like a stormy wind, tossing me about while I lay there in a human's bed. My children ebb and flow, drifting in and out of the room. They sit and chat with me a while before a task or sleep calls them away. They smile too brightly, squeeze my fingers too tightly. It is all sickly sweet. A peach gone too ripe. It's skin in blushed and pretty, its scent sweet, but there are worms at its core. Just as there are worms within me. They gnaw upon my flesh, making nests about my bones. I feel every inch they squirm. I hear them when I sleep. 

"While you rest, the world is burning," the worms giggle from within. They repeat those words over and over. They carve them into my skin.

"Did you think I was joking?" Dr. Hughes asked, tightening the thick rope pinning my body down onto the bed. He dodged out of the way when I tried to spit in his face. 

"Get the worms out of me! I can't take it anymore!" I roared at him, twisting against my binds. 

He checked another knot down around my legs, pulling it tight. "If you would leave them alone, I might've been able to take them out a week ago." 

"I'm not feverish and my leg's not draining anymore! I don't need them!"

"Oh? Do you have a medical degree I'm not aware of?" He glared down at me with his hands on his hips. He blew air out of his nose in irritation. "Fine. I'd like them to stay a few days more, but since you want to act like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum, I'll remove them." He pulled his chair over roughly, not caring how loudly the chair scraped against the floor. "Just don't act surprised if it starts rotting again." 

I panted for breath as I stared at the ceiling. My fingers were clenched tight in the sheets. I could feel every motion of the doctor's tools as they picked worms from the healing wound on my thigh. "Where are my children today?" I asked, wanting to talk to keep my mind off what he was doing.

Hughes hummed a irritated noise. Everything I did seemed to annoy him greatly. Which, mostly, was understandable. "How the hell would I know? I'm just a doctor. I suppose they can go wherever they damn well please, since they're royalty and all." 

"You don't like me, do you?" I laughed to myself. "Most people at least try to hide their disdain."

"Most people listen when I tell them how not to die. I don't hate you, I merely find you supremely annoying." 

"That doesn't strike me as true. Come, Willy, speak honestly." I said in my most annoyingly sweet tones. "You hate my guts, don't you?"

He made a face similar to a dog being irritated by a flea. "Don't call me that." 

"Why not? It's short for William, isn't it? Or do you prefer Bill?" He didn't really look like a Bill to me though. Willy suited him much better.

He very discretely rolled his eyes. It seemed like a carefully practiced reaction. "How do you even know my name? I don't think we've ever properly introduced ourselves to each other."

"I heard your daughter call you that, Doctor William Hughes." I replied, giving too much emphasis on the word, doctor as if it held the same weight as "king." "I much prefer, Willy. It makes you sound cute, like a spaniel puppy." 

Dr. Hughes pursed his lips like he tasted something sour. "If I allow it, do I get to call you Tilly or...perhaps Maud is more to your liking?"

I made a similar face. "You aren't funny."

"I'm not trying to be. Maud's a very handsome name in the modern era." 

"Call me that and you'll wish you'd sawed off both my legs."