Disclaimer: We do not own Blackadder or any of the characters in it
It had happened. As unfortunate, unbelievable and contradictory to all his principles as it was, Edmund Blackadder was in love.
He was sitting at the table, wondering what the best and most inexpensive way to kill himself would be. Hanging rated quite highly, although it would be far simpler to just eat Baldrick's cooking. But no, he reflected, he had avoided the prospect his entire life. He could go on a bit longer, at least to die with an unsullied gut.
He had hoped that his life would never, ever get any worse.
Then Baldrick walked in.
"Of course it could." He reflected out loud.
"Sorry, milord?"
"Oh, nothing. I was just praying that for five minutes I could reflect on my pathetic life without you insulting my vision. Anyway, what is it? Did you eat another turnip?"
"Well, no, but if you fancied…"
"No Baldrick, I do not fancy. Whatever it is, the answer is no."
"Oh, so I'll send her away then?"
Blackadder's head came up from his hands.
"Her? Her? Her?"
Damn you. He told the voices in his head that told every fibre of his being that he was delighted to hear that she had come. Do you voices ever go on holiday?
"Talking to the voices in your head, sir?"
A wild look came into Blackadder's eyes
"Oh god, did I just say that out loud?"
Baldrick nodded.
"Yes, milord. But don't worry, I speak to mine all the time. My favourite one's called Godfrey. He's the one that tells me to eat turnips all the time."
Edmund sighed heavily.
"And the doctor said I shouldn't worry?"
Well, you are in love with the queen!
"Shut up, damn you!"
Baldrick looked quite unperturbed.
"I'll show her in, then, shall I?"