The Final Bride of Dracula

Chapter Seventeen

Marscha grumbled under her breath. She was tired. So tired of this castle, tired of Vlad, tired of serving, and she was tired of immortality.
Alandra shifted in her slumber. Marscha quickly dampened the cloth and rested it on her forehead. Marscha smiled gently when Alandra drifted back into her sleep.
Dawn was approaching. She had seen Vlad slip out that evening after their shouting match. She believed he went to fetch the doctor like he had promised.
Marscha stood and stepped away from Alandra's bedside, she looked herself in the mirror.
It was like looking at a shadow.
She was there, but hardly, a fuzzy outline of all her features. Sighing she rebraided her blond locks and bid Alandra a farewell.
She wandered the halls until she found Louis' room. She stuck her head in just to check in.
He was resting just as promised.
Marscha let a little grin sit on her lips as she saw the morning light begin to pierce the curtains. She heard his clicking footsteps and stopped.
Vlad was behind her.
She turned and fixed her dress.
"My Lord-" she began the formalities before he stuck up his hand.

"I wanted to apologize."

Marscha almost balked. Vlad Dracula apologize, what has this world come to?
"For-" she began but was once again cut off.

"You are right, Alandra is not Natailia. She died, a long time ago. I've been a fool to cling to her memory..."

Marscha shook her head. "You are no fool. Everyone can become blinded by grief."

Vlad looked down, and shook his head.
"How is Alandra faring?"

"Her cough has lessened and her fever has gone down, but she is still very ill my Lord." Marscha fretted with her hands and the hem of her frock.
Vlad nodded.
"You services are appreciated. Marscha, you are the thread that holds this place together, for that hold the up most gratitude."
Marscha tipped her head and tried to contain the turmoil of emotions bottled away.
"Thank you my Lord."

He gave her a rare tight lipped smile before departing.
_________

The doctor arrived midday. A pounding at the castles door was the notification. The butler let in a bean pole of a man, whose mustache took up most of his face. The other half was taken up by a pair of large circular glasses that balanced on the end of his bird like nose.
His tail coat did not help Marscha in her impressions of him, it jutted out awkwardly as he walked giving the illusion of ruffled plumage.
Oh Lord did she bit her tongue to contain her laughter. She tried so very hard.
Marscha formed the laugh into a bark of a cough.
The older man strutted up the stairs like a stork with his stick legs and tail coat.
She led him to Alandra's sleeping quarters. The woman stirred and blinked her eyes before slowly sitting up.

"Mar, scha-" she breathed before Marscha was by her side.

"You are alright my lady. This is the doctor that was sent for you,"

Alandra pierced the man with her eyes. "Alright."

The doctor went through his routine check up, at the end if the session he put away his things in his bag. Before speaking.
"She has come down with a simple cold, give her these antibiotics." He set a large pill bottle in Marscha's hands.
"Twice a day until she begins to feel better, let her go out side, fresh air will do her good."

Marscha nodded.
"Thank you doctor."