A few days later, Melinda woke up with a feeling of urgency swallowing her soul whole, or rather, it would have if she had one. After the incident at the cathedral and the conversation with Douglas that ensued, she decided to sell her soul and become immortal in order to gain access to the eldritch secrets Hemingway's book held. 

Most people would be appalled, but she knew very well that this action was beyond simple good and evil. Gaining access to dark magic along with light magic isn't necessarily evil, it's just balance. Besides, there were no tangible consequences to selling her soul, at least not any that she knew of. She still felt the same, if a bit more strange due to her connection to other dimensions. Also, someone like her being immortal was an invaluable asset not only to her country, but also the world as a whole. But there was still one thing she absolutely could not ignore.

Her dearest friend would have to pay the price.

It was not like he left her much of a choice, but it was still a huge sacrifice on her part. She would never see him again, never hear his loving words again, never embrace him again, and although he'd been a little callous to her these past few days, she knew that it was nothing more than wounded love and desperation. But that was just part of being Queen. A Queen has to disregard her own selfish feelings and put herself and her loved ones on the line if it means the salvation of her people. She could cry about it forever, but nothing would change. There was no other choice.

But, until then, she could have one last conversation with him. A loving farewell.

"Come in," Douglas said formally when he heard a knock at the door at eight in the morning, thinking it must have been a servant, stunned to see his wife at the doorway, wearing a smile on her face that felt wrong somehow, even if he couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.

"Good morning, my dearest wife, the love of my life," he chirped, and she rolled her eyes exaggeratedly in faux-annoyance, flattered as ever by his romantic gestures.

"That was so saccharine," she said, laughing awkwardly, and he began laughing with her when he noticed that she was joking with him.

But then, he remembered something. "Melinda, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be having breakfast with all the other nobles?"

"I thought I might visit you for a while," she said nonchalantly, sitting at the edge of his bed, placing her hand comfortably in his. "I love your presence. It is a genuine delight to me. Really, you are a ray of sunshine in this darkened world. I am sorry for having acted so insensitively towards you lately."

"No, I am sorry," he said, letting out a long sigh. "It's just... Everything has been so difficult for me recently. I've been having some doubts, and I am afraid of what the future holds for us. I am sorry."

A shiver crawled down Melinda's spine, but she suppressed it with an even brighter smile. "Let us not talk about it. It is dreadful to recall these things, especially this early in the morning. We must reawaken this country, as well as our spirits. Do you have any plans for the Annual Obscurian Festival Of Peace And Prosperity? I believe it would be most uplifting to those who have started to lose hope. A pretty distraction. Do you not agree, my dear husband?"

He perked up. "Yes, of course, the Festival! How could we ever forget the Festival? Our budget may have been cut significantly, understandably so, but there is always some money to be found. I was thinking that, maybe, we could invite some tavern singers. A bard is a classic addition to this event. Some duelists and jugglers too, to really enhance the carnival atmosphere. And, of course, what is a festival without some theatre? I was thinking of Shakespeare, even though he isn't our playwright. There's just something really universal about him."

"Excellent," she said, honestly impressed with his ideas. "And what play of his were you thinking of?"

"Macbeth," he blurted out, which annoyed her massively, as could be seen on her face.

"Well, it's a great play..." he said, trailing off. "Okay, maybe not that one... We'll think of something. We've got a week before the festival begins, after all. The Merchant of Venice, maybe?"

"Whatever," she said, shrugging limply. "I don't really care all that much. I suggest we go to the study now. There is a very pressing matter to be discussed that I simply cannot discuss here. So, what do you say? Will you follow me?"

"Of course," he replied, having no idea what was going on in her mind. Before he could say or do anything else, she planted a succulent kiss on his lips as a gift. It was the least she could do. She had washed her teeth beforehand, unlike him, but his morning breath was frivolous to think about now. He was feeling rather jovial, but also confused because she didn't usually do this in the morning.

"I'm just feeling pretty cordial today," she said, and he accepted her explanation, holding her hand as they walked towards the study.

It was a mere five minutes of walking, but to Melinda, it dragged on forever. It felt like she was being watched, and she was looking around everywhere, as though expecting a ghost to jump at her from a dark corner. The sunlight adorned the cold marble halls beautifully, but it made them no less hostile to her. It was like the sunlight was mocking her, reminding her of all the happiness she had already lost and had yet to lose, and it was only a couple of minutes left before her dagger glistened darkly in the daylight that strongly contrasted the crimson darkness of blood. She held back tears, not at all willing to show weakness in front of him.

"You seem pretty absent today, my dear wife," he said suddenly, but before she could respond, they were met with a door that was all too familiar to both of them. 

Melinda soon opened the starkly white door, gripping the doorknob tightly like she was strangling it, releasing a deep breath as she led him inside, right into that freezing lair of darkness and death hidden from the outside world by black curtains. She locked the door behind them and cast the soundproofing spell all over the room, which he found a bit strange but refused to question. Melinda sometimes failed to understand the intricacies of love, and this was one of those times.

"So, what shall we discuss today? I'm sure it must be important, given that you have brought us here," he said, awaiting an answer, but, when she took a dagger out of a pocket of her white dress, he was taken aback, finally realising the grim truth of it all.

"Farewell, my friend," she said darkly, tears in her eyes as she plunged the dagger deep into his chest, giving him no time to have a long dialogue with her like he had expected, acting more ruthlessly than she herself could have anticipated, overtaken by shock and horror as she let his bloody carcass fall to the floor, feeling the sudden urge to take her life as well, but she knew it would be profoundly selfish of her. Now all that was left was to clean herself up using magic and to find someone to frame so that she could escape the gallows. No matter the cost.