The Cold King (19 page)

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Authors: Amber Jaeger

BOOK: The Cold King
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The corners of her mouth turned up in an imitation of a smile, deepening the lines around her mouth. “I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.” Her honest words pierced his heart but she wasn’t finished. “I begged my mother to take me in but she refused. She said it would look bad.” Calia gave a tiny, painful laugh. “So here I am.”

The king had to force out his next response. “You must truly hate me.”

Calia slid her hand over his. “I wish I could hate you.”

Her hand was papery dry and cold and self-loathing filled him as he acknowledged that he was the cause for it, for everything.

They said nothing else, merely sat with one another long into the night. When she fell asleep he carried her to her bed and tucked her in before leaving at the tenth bell for the same thing he did every night.

Calia slept late the next day and woke to find a tray next to her bed. Her appetite had not yet returned and she rolled over to ignore the unappetizing food.

“You need to eat.”

She sat up in bed to find the king in a chair he had pulled over.

Suddenly the improperness of the situation hit her and she pulled the covers up over her chest only to realize she was in the same gown she had worn the day before. Pain and exhaustion made her mind hazy but she remembered falling asleep in his rooms before the fire. Embarrassed and uncomfortable, she turned her eyes to the window.

The king cleared his throat. “I put you to bed.”

“Why? And what are you doing here?” The harshness of her tone made the king flinch but he answered gently.

“I am making sure you recover fully. And in order to do that, you need to eat.”

The tray of fruit and toast made her stomach turn. “I am not hungry.”

The king frowned. “Iago says you must eat and rest or you won’t get your strength back.” He leaned forward to touch her hand and she looked up at him.

Calia stared, taking in his cloth mask and unshaved jaw. His shirt was stained and rumpled and his hair stuck up on end. “Are you all right?” she asked.

He gave a little smile. “I’ve been worried.”

Her heart beat a little faster. “You needn’t be. I’ll be well and back to work tomorrow.”

The chair creaked as he settled back into it and folded his arms over his chest. “I do not think so. You need food and rest. Now eat.”

Calia picked at her tray while the king watched over her. She was amused and touched by his concern. She tried not to think about what he had done. There were two sides to him and while she seemed to bring out the best, the other did not just disappear.

“How is the queen?” she asked when he finally decided she had had enough to eat. The plight of the pregnant woman had been on her mind the last several days.

“She is well.” Calia stared at him, her eyes narrowing in a silent demand for more information. “After you… after… I put her up in a suite while I investigated her claims. I was also able to discover her brother is a much better man than her father or husband and sent her to him. He made mention of setting up a permanent residence for her and her child in his palace.”

Some of the tension eased out of Calia’s neck and shoulders. She was glad for the queen but also glad for herself. The king’s actions proved there was a good man somewhere behind the mask. “I am glad to hear that. Did you learn anything regarding her accusations?”

“Her claims were true; her father did seek to strike against me.”

“What will you do?” Calia asked.

The king gave a wicked grin. “I’ve already done it. I paid the town of Galston a wagon load of diamonds to withhold grain from all the kingdoms involved.”

She frowned. “Why would a farming community take payment in diamonds for such a thing?”

“The queen brought with her the knowledge of how they planned to strengthen their weapons. But not only weapons can be strengthened by diamonds but tools as well—farm tools. Imagine how much more profitable their crops will be when they do not have repair and replace tools every season.”

Calia frowned. “But won’t the kingdoms retaliate and just take the grain anyway?”

“It would very hard for them to raise an army from starving people. And even harder when all the starving people know exactly why it is they are starving.”

Calia looked at him in wonder. “You sent messengers to tell the people all these plans?”

“I did.”

She smiled. “You are very clever.” Then her face fell. “But I fear for the women and children with no grain to make their bread.”

“Do not worry. The kings will soon realize their folly and stand down. No one will actually need to starve. Just the threat has already thrown the people into a frenzied mob and the kings are frantic to calm them.”

Calia laughed. “You are a very good king.”

Her kindness chafed and he turned his face away. “I may be a good king but I am a terrible man.”

Calia reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly but didn’t disagree with him.

The king stayed with Calia for several days, only leaving for an hour at the tenth bell or when she wanted to bathe. When she was well enough, she returned to her duties despite his protests.

“I must have something to do,” she complained.

“You have several things to do! Sit, make your blankets, read a book.” If she had noticed her sewing basket had been replaced she hadn’t said so.

Calia rolled her eyes. “I am your servant. Who will make sure you are fed and your rooms are clean and your shirts are made if I do not do it?”

He clenched his jaw. “Perhaps one of the other servants can do it.”

She shook her head. “They have their own work to do. But if you really want to lessen my burden…”

“Anything,” he swore.

“Come down for your meals.”

He stared at her blankly and she sighed. “Having to lug all those heavy trays up here is a pain.”

He nodded reluctantly but she held a finger up. “There’s more. Your servants work hard to keep your castle up and running and yet you spend all your time in here. Why do you not enjoy what you have? Eat in your fancy dining room, ride your horses, let your servants see you.”

“No one wants to see me,” he said quietly and the pain in his voice cut her.

“They care about you a great deal. I thought they were all hypnotized when I first got here. I could not believe they would defend you and speak so highly of you. I mean, you threw me in the dungeon five minutes after meeting me.” She trailed off as she realized she was getting painfully close to something they didn’t talk about. After a moment she asked, “Why do you do it? Lock all your new servants in the dungeon, I mean?”

He gave a weak smile. “Believe it or not, it truly does make it easier. I did not do it at first, only to those that threatened to run away. But over time I realized the ones I had locked up had an easier time transitioning here and did not try to leave later.” He glanced up, gaging her feelings. “I tried to get loyal servants in many ways. Over time I realized there were outcasts in the village. Either they didn’t want to be there and had nowhere else to go or they truly weren’t wanted. I began to collect those people for my servants and soon realized allowing the town to pick the next servant if no one offered was the easiest route. Even if the person was unhappy at first, they soon came to realize a life with me was better than a life in town with people that did not care for them at all.”

“Like me,” Calia said quietly.

“Like you,” he agreed sadly.

He watched her face crumble as she thought about her family but she quickly forced a smile. “I suppose I would rather be here than anywhere else.”

Chapter Fourteen

T
he king began to go
down for his meals. The other servants were surprised the first morning to see him sitting at the bare table but quickly accommodated to his new schedule. It wasn’t long before he began venturing into the kitchen to tell Cato how much he enjoyed his food and to make requests for his favorites. Abelina beamed when he complimented her on the upkeep of the palace and even Jos seemed happier when the king saw how unhappy he was as the maid and asked him to take on more care taking responsibilities.

Klaribel was practically bouncing off the walls when the king came to visit her in the stable and she beamed with pride as she showed off the horses. Gentle Iago toured the gardens with the king and Marchello puffed up when he was asked to help with finances.

There was peace and joy and everyone but Calia seemed to know she was the source of it.

She and the king were inseparable. She was at his side for his meals and in the kitchen, she went with him to the barn and out to the gardens. The other servants noticed and spoke with quiet hope amongst themselves.

Calia began to feel his eyes on her more often and when they talked he slipped in stories from his past. He began to relax each night while she worked on her blankets. They only parted from each other from the time the tenth bell chimed to the first light of the sun.

One night as he was returning to his room he heard a crash in hers.

“Calia?” he called. She didn’t answer.

He pounded on her door. “Are you all right?” There was no answer.

Fear made his stomach drop and he shoved the door open. The sleeping chamber was dark but light glowed in the bathing room.

“Calia, what was that noise?”

“Don’t come in here!” she cried and her voice was tinged with panic.

He crept closer to the light and he drew in a sharp breath when he saw the blood dotting the tiled floor. Ignoring her command, he rushed into the little room and found her standing at the sink with only a towel wrapped tightly around her.

“Get out!” she said, trying to cover herself more.

He averted his eyes but didn’t move. “There’s blood on the floor, are you hurt?” Next to the tub was broken glass and bath oil mixed with blood. “Are you cut?”

“I slipped when I got out of the tub,” she said miserably. “I’m cut but I can’t see it.”

The king swallowed hard. “Then put on a dressing gown and come out here while I fetch Iago.”

“He isn’t here. It’s a full moon, remember?”

Confused, he looked back to her and she gasped in mortification and spun around.

Blood was flowing freely from a deep gash that spanned from the top of her soft shoulder to the bony blade.

The kings boot heels crunched over the broken glass as he crossed the room. Calia looked around in panic for a place to hide but he ignored her modesty, being more concerned with her wound. She tried to skitter around him but he gently grabbed her by the elbow. “Don’t move,” he warned. “There is glass everywhere.”

Blood ran over his thumb and he looked at the cut closer. Two tiny shards were imbedded in it. The king swore under his breath and he grabbed a hand towel to dab at the wound. Calia winced and her shoulders tightened, causing more pain.

“Damn it, where is Iago?” he grated.

“It’s a full moon. He’s out collecting the fungus he uses for his poultices.”

Her wet hair was dropping into the wound and the king brushed it around her neck. Her skin was just as soft as he had imagined and suddenly he realized he was holding onto a beautiful, nearly naked girl. “Perhaps I should get Abelina,” he said in strained voice.

“She’s helping him, as is Klaribel.”

“Of course,” the king said under his breath.

Calia looked up with panic in her eyes. “Is it bad? I’m sure it’s not that bad. You can go, I’m fine.” The pallor of her face gave away her lie.

“I need you in the other room so I can see better.” Without warning he swept her up, one arm around her waist and the other under her bare legs.

A sharp breath hissed out of her and she arched. “That hurts,” she growled through clenched teeth.

“It should,” he said, stepping over the blood on the floor. “There’s glass in it.”

He set her down gently in a chair and she pulled her towel around herself tighter.

With the lamps all lit the king could see the cut wasn’t as bad as he had thought. “I think the bleeding will slow if I can get the glass out. It’s going to hurt,” he warned.

The king handed Calia a blanket to better cover up with before he went to retrieve the little medical kit Iago had stocked in his room and when he returned she wrapped up with only one slender arm and a shoulder exposed. She didn’t look up as he came to her side and he could see red blotches on her cheeks but her eyes were dry.

Finding a tonic, he turned back to her. “Try to hold still while I do this.” She didn’t flinch as he poured the cold liquid onto the cut or even when he began wiping at the edges.

At the bottom of the kit was a small pair of pincers. Calia looked over her shoulder and blanched. “Just try to be quick about it.”

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he said, in hopes of distracting her. She was shaking and he put a hand against her back to steady her. They both jumped at the contact. Her skin was smooth and cool while his hand was rough and warm.

“I, um, I was taking a bath and put a little oil in at the end.” She flinched when the tip of the pincers touched her open wound but kept talking. “I must have spilled some when I set it back down.”

She groaned when the little tool found purchase and a glass shard, as thin as a needle and half as long, was pulled free.

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