The king hadn't felt as much hope as he did with the arrival of his peculiar old human visitor. He could tell by the man's features and knowledge of potions that he must have been Amri's father. Although he did not understand his disloyalty to his own family he was grateful beyond measure for his remedy. He was already feeling better than he had in years. He was able to move his head and his fingers though he couldn't yet move his legs.
News of Lily had brought him more joy than the recovery he was currently experiencing. He had thought she perished in the attack made upon her mother. He smiled at the thought of the girl taking the throne. He prayed she would the be the kind of leader he remembered her mother had been. He loved Bayla with all his heart; his loyalties remained with her even before he was made aware of here heir.
The door creaked open and he took the invalid's stance remembering the old man's instructions. Amri slithered into the room in her usual lovingly phony way. "How are you today, dear husband?" she asked as she retrieved the bottle from the shelf. "It's time for your medicine again. I'm sorry for missing this morning, but I had matters to attend to. You understand, don't you?" She forced the medicine down him, though he tried to fight as normal. "Really, dear; you'd think you would have learned to take your medicine without fighting me." She returned the bottle to the shelf. She studied her husband for a moment making him fear she would discover his secret. He bore his eyes into her with as much contempt as he could muster. "You know, you look a fright. I think you need a bath and maybe your hair washed. I'll send someone in for that in the morning. Sleep well, your majesty." As the door closed behind her, a smile graced Tolkient's face. He left out a sigh of great relief and let the tears of joy wet his cheeks.