The Cold King (24 page)

Grief and pain worked against her until she finally surrendered and climbed back into bed. Even her wandering thoughts weren’t enough to keep her from sleep.

Morning came again and she met it gravely. For the time being, she was still his personal servant and out of sheer stubbornness, she would behave as such. Curiosity also pushed her on. What would he say to her? What would happen to her?

In the bathing room she woodenly prepared herself. There was nothing to be done about the scratches on her face but she fixed her hair and dressed in the simplest gown in her wardrobe, a soft blue one.

With grim determination she knocked on the king’s door just as the sun was rising but there was no response. Curious, she opened it anyway and found the rooms empty. Finally she remembered he had taken to eating in the formal dining room and set off for it with a sigh.

She barely held in her shocked gasped when she entered. The king sat at the table, his breakfast before him and a sheaf of paper in one hand. He had no mask on. The morning light was not kind to his scars but neither were they as terrible as he had always thought.

Sensing her gaze on him, the king looked up. “Calia,” he said softly, rising from his chair. “Would you care to eat with me?”

She forced a smile and sat. His discomfort was obvious but sedated. “You look well this morning, my king.”

He rolled his eyes. “I suspect I look about as well as you do.”

She laughed and touched the dark goose egg at her temple she was unable to hide.

“We make quite the pair,” he said softly.

“Would you like more tea?” Abelina asked, interrupting them. Pure joy shone from her eyes.

When she left Calia picked at her food. “Was it very difficult, coming down this morning?”

The king rubbed his jaw. “It was. I had thought all my servants would run screaming from the castle in revulsion. But I must say, they surprised me.”

“How so?”

He gave a faint smile. “Iago handed me a jar of the cream I’ve been pilfering from his stores. Abelina hugged me and kissed my check and Klaribel…” He shook his head. “She undid the top half of her shirt to show me a terrible scar she received when a horse bit her. She seemed to consider it a source of pride.”

Calia laughed. “I’m sure she did.”

As they finished their tea the king said, “I have some business to attend to this morning and I will need your help.”

“At your assistance,” she replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“I am afraid it is quite unpleasant and I do apologize, but it must be done.” His voice wasn’t cold at all, but very soft. Calia looked up in surprise and he didn’t flinch away from her gaze on his face.

“If you’ll follow me?” he finally asked, standing up from the table.

She nodded mutely.

Calia tried to walk two steps behind him and to his right but he slowed and took her hand, folding it into his elbow.

Marchello met them at the doors to the throne room and bowed as they entered. Confused, Calia tried again to attain the proper distance from the king but he wouldn’t let go of her hand.

More startling than his behavior was the small, ornately carved chair setting next to the throne. The king led her to it. “Please, sit.”

“I can’t sit here,” she protested.

“Please,” he asked quietly.

Confused and shaken, she sat and the king sat beside her.

A second later Marchello ushered in the two men Calia feared most—Delmar and Durand. The brothers swaggered in, their faces lit with twin, false grins. They faltered for a second, seeing Calia but then swept into low bows.

When they rose there was no hint of fear or anger, just the cheerful, bland expressions they always wore when lying.

“Do you know why you are here today?” the king asked, his voice cold and low.

“I’m afraid we don’t, Your Majesty,” Durand answered. His eyes flickered to Calia for only a second.

“And you?” the king asked Delmar.

“No, Your Majesty.”

“You are here for the crimes against the young women in your village.” His voice rose the tiniest bit and Calia shivered.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking—”

“Be silent!” the king shouted. “You will not lie to me, you will not be insolent. I know of each and every one of your transgressions. I have spoken with countless young women and heard the tales of the terrible crimes you committed against them.” He leaned forward and the brothers shrank back. “I know what you did to my servant.”

Calia’s heart thrummed in her chest. He finally believed her.

“Your Majesty, I assure you these are false tales from bitter harpies. I’m sure you must know my brother and I are much sought after as marriage material. We can’t help it that none of the young women in the village are to our mother’s liking. We don’t mean to offend anyone, but I swear, you give a girl a smile and they think you’re betrothed!” Delmar ended his lie with a chuckle.

The king was not amused. “You have both harassed, assaulted, beaten, kidnapped and raped. I have all the proof I need.”

Durant’s innocent façade slid off like water. “So what? We are to be banished?”

“So that you can wander over to the next village and continue perpetrating your evil? I think not. The punishment is death.”

Both of their faces paled but the king continued speaking. “It is no less than you deserve. I have seen firsthand the pain you have wrought on innocent people. But I will give you a choice.”

Confused but grateful, they fell over themselves to thank the king. “Yes, Your Majesty, whatever punishment you see fit.”

Valanka gave a cold smile. “Fine. Then the mines shall be your dungeon until your death. You will go from here to there and never leave them. Every day you shall work and the money you earn will be turned over to your victims. Say goodbye to the sun, for you will never see it again.”

Too shocked to argue, the brothers let themselves be led away by Marchello. When they were out of the room, the king turned to Calia.

“I am sorry I didn’t believe you.”

She rubbed a thumb along the smooth arm of the chair but didn’t look up to meet his eyes. “Why do you believe me now?”

“Iago brought me to my senses,” he said bluntly. “And when I realized they had so brazenly assaulted you, I also realized they must have started with smaller crimes.”

“The girls you brought to the castle?” she asked suddenly. “You were asking them about Delmar and Durant?”

He nodded sadly. “Yes, and they had many terrible things to tell me. I fear I have not been a very good king to allow such things to go on in my own village.”

Calia blanched as realized the suffering other girls must have endured.

The king knelt in front of her. “I apologize for having you witness this, but I thought it was important for you to see they were punished—that I believe you.”

She nodded numbly and he pulled her up from the chair. “You are not well. Please, forgive me.”

Her head swam as he led her back to the dining room. The chair he set her in was much more comfortable than the ornate one in the throne room and she settled into it with a little sigh. The king poured a fresh cup of tea and added a generous splash of brandy before pressing it into her hands.

The drink settled her nerves and the king smiled as the color came back into her cheeks. Finally he said, “I have a little more business for us to attend to, but much more pleasant, I promise. Are you well enough to assist me?”

Calia nodded, not trusting her voice.

When Abelina came to gather the dishes the king spoke. “Would you please fetch Marchello? I have something I need to discuss with you both.”

“Of course,” she murmured, curiosity in her eyes. When she went to fetch the butler, the king took a heavy box he had set on a chair and brought it to the table. He pulled out papers and arranged them in neat stacks.

“What do you need me to do?” Calia asked.

“Sit and watch,” was his only reply.

Marchello and Abelina entered, confusion clear on their faces. The king stood and gestured to the two chairs in front of him. “Please, sit.”

They cast a look over at Calia but she just shrugged her shoulders.

“First, I would like to thank you for your many years of loyal service.” Abelina opened her mouth but the king held his hand up. “And second, I would like to apologize for never giving you a choice in the matter.” He pulled two large leather bags from the box and set one in front of each of them. “This is payment for your forced servitude, four gold coins for each month and a large bonus. I hope you will find that acceptable.”

“Your Majesty, we cannot accept—” they both burst out.

“You can and will,” he said sternly. “And I was not finished. Your… forced service… is now over. If either of you would like to apply for your current positions, I would be happy to have you—as paid staff.”

Tears filled Abelina’s eyes. “I would like to stay on, Your Majesty. This is my home.”

“It is mine as well,” Marchello said. “I will be staying.”

The king smiled. “Thank you. You don’t know how glad I am to hear that.”

When the pair left with their arms around each other, Calia turned to the king with a raised eyebrow but her thoughts were left unspoken as Klaribel and Iago came in. He repeated what he had said to the housekeeper and butler and sat back to wait for their response.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Klaribel said. “Those horses are as much mine as they are yours.” She eyed the leather bag in front of her. “How about you keep that money and give me a house instead? A farmhouse, out by the barn.”

The king pushed the bag towards her. “How about you keep the money and I build you a house to your liking?”

She bit her lip and glanced at Iago. “All right, but he gets to live there too.” Her cheeks were flushed and Calia had to stifle a grin.

“Iago, what do say to this arrangement?” the king asked.

“Where she goes, I go. I would be happy to stay on.”

The king nodded his satisfaction and dismissed them. Calia opened her mouth to speak but the king cut her off. “Will you kindly remind me to ask Marchello and Abelina if they would like their own home as well?”

Cato and Jos came in, their faces tight with worry.

Before the king could begin Jos spoke up. “I don’t want to stay.”

Cato glared at him. “And I don’t want to have to find somewhere else I would be ‘allowed’ to be a male cook.”

“You said we’d stick together,” Jos hissed.

Cato’s face fell and he waved a hand at the king. “Fine, I’m going too.”

Valanka steepled his fingers under his chin. “I believe the king in Galston is searching for a new cook. In a recent letter he made a comment about being entirely sick of menus so focused on grain.”

“I don’t think it will work,” Cato said glumly.

“I met the king and his very close personal advisor some years ago. I believe the uh, friendship the two of you have will be kindly overlooked.”

Hope filled their eyes. “Do you think so? You’re not angry?”

The king shook his head. “Not in the least. I am sorry to have held your lives up for so long and it’s my pleasure to help you venture off in any way I can.”

Calia watched them leave the room, excitedly discussing plans to pack and move.

When she turned back the king was staring at her.

“So that just leaves me,” she said quietly.

He pulled out the last leather bag and set it in front of her. “For your service.” She shoved the bag aside, waiting for him to say more. “You have your freedom now. But I must confess that you are everything to me. I hope you will consider staying in my home.”

She searched his face. “And what is your home to me? I can be your servant and love you but never have you? I can live each day fearing you will send me away because you feel as I do?”

His heart clenched in his chest. “I only wanted the best for you.”

“And I only wanted you,” she whispered.

A tear slipped down his unnaturally smooth cheek. “I’m cursed, Calia.”

She took in his words then stood from her chair. “Then I’ll be on my way.”

His heart tore in his chest and he reached out to grab her. “Please don’t leave. I love you. I’m a terrible man but I love you and I want you here, with me.”

She lifted her face to his and he could see his ugly, twisted reflection in her eyes. Sensing his distress, she closed them and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “I love all of you,” she whispered, her breath dancing over his lips.

All of his hesitation melted away and he pressed he ruined face to hers. He felt her smile against his lips and he pulled her closer.

Pain flashed along his face and chest and he let her go in surprise.

“Valanka?” she cried when he pushed her away. “What is it?”

His skin crawled painfully and he tore at it with his hands.

“What’s happening?” she demanded.

Calia looked on in shock as the king dropped to his knees. She knelt before him and placed her arms on his shoulders while he cried out.

The pain twisted and dug into his chest and face and he sobbed while Calia helplessly watched him writhe in pain. It went on forever, for both of them.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said over and over again and even in his agony he wanted to comfort her.

She threw her arms around him, as if to protect him and the pain began to lift. As it eased he moved to return her embrace and found himself free of pain for the first time in three hundred years.

With cautious fingers he touched his face. It was smooth, still unnaturally smooth, but painless. He blinked his eyes and there was no pain there either. He ripped his shirt way from his chest and found the skin as scarred as it had always been.

Calia was staring as well and slowly moved her eyes up to meet his.

“What do you see?” he demanded, not believing his own eyes.

“I see a man,” she said with deep smile.

“And my scars?”

“They are still there.” She hesitantly reached a finger out to trace the edge of one. “I don’t understand, what has happened?”