Abelina pinched her cheek. "You are welcome my dear. And might I suggest the sapphire gown?"
She left her to get ready and Calia stood uncertainly in the middle of her room. Finally she went into the bathroom to inspect all the ointments it had been stocked with. She washed her face a sweet smelling soap and rubbed on shimmery cream. She stood back and inspected her face. She certainly looked better than she ever had before but it wasn't enough. She wanted to shock the king, make him realize … Her thoughts wandered off. Make him realize what? That she was pretty? Why on earth would she want that? She should want to be invisible to him.
But she spied a little compact of pale rose rouge and a tin of tinted lip gloss. She applied them lightly and smiled at herself in the mirror. She did look like a different girl.
In her room she pulled out the dark blue gown out and slid it on. It had fit well before but with the buttons done up and the dress adjusted, she could see where she had put on some weight and it suited her well. She spun in front of the mirror, feeling like a princess.
But her naïve joy did not last long. She wasn't a princess, she was a servant. Her newfound beauty and perfection at serving her master was for his benefit only, to make him look good. She was still just a possession.
With a sigh Calia left her room to cross the hall but did not hesitate before knocking and presenting herself.
The king stood with his back to her. His hair was wet and slightly dampening the collar of his pristine shirt. Calia watched him as he fiddled with his cufflinks and felt her heart begin to thud. With his back to her, with his hateful mask hidden, he was nearly handsome. Whatever curse had frozen him had done so in the prime of his life. Even fully dressed she could see how strong he was.
"Help me with these," he said and she jumped. She shook her head to clear away such disturbing thoughts before approaching him.
The king did not look up until she reached out for the jeweled cuff links. She watched through her lashes as his jaw slowly dropped and then ducked her head before he could see her smug satisfaction.
He said nothing while she fixed his shirt but stepped back when she was finished. "Turn," he said, twirling his fingers in the air.
She spun for him and felt her cheeks begin to warm.
"Delightful!" he cried, clapping his hands together. She flushed warmer at his odd compliment.
"You know, I have sorely missed my last servant and her years of aptitude. But I must have forgotten how convenient it is to have a luscious servant to distract my enemies while they try to meet with me."
The warmth in her cheeks cooled. She truly was nothing but a possession.
She looked up at her cold master and shuddered at the new mask covering his face. While this one was mostly covered in glinting diamonds as well, all around the eyes were blood red rubies. He looked like a rich, mad demon.
The Cold King smiled at her reaction. "You like it? It was what was in the box you brought up to me."
Anger began to filter in but she kept her voice smooth. "That is what you would have killed me over if I had dared peek?"
The king cocked his head and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I would have killed you for not being trustworthy. Now tell me, do you like it?"
Calia took a little breath. "No. It's frightful."
The king laughed again. "Perfect! I must thank my craftsman for his new design."
"Is that why you wear them? To frighten people? Then you needn't wear it around me, I am quite frightened of you enough." Calia snapped her mouth shut and inched back. She meant what she had said but regretted speaking the words.
The king regarded her for a moment before answering. "Why I wear my masks is my business alone. But I discovered long ago they were to my advantage when dealing with people. So yes, some of them are made to be frightening. And mask or no mask, you should be frightened of me. I am your king, not your little brother. You will not speak to me in such a way again." His words were firm but lacked the cool anger she had come to expect from him.
"How did you become this way?" she whispered.
The king gave an exasperated sigh and threw his hands in the air. "All these months of training and good behavior and you are going to unravel on me now?" He turned from her to pick up his jacket. "Ah well, it always comes to this. You want to know what happened to me. Then I will tell you."
Calia's mind lurched into overdrive, wondering what his story would hold.
"Only," he said, holding up a finger, "after you perform perfectly for my guests."
Chapter Nine
Calia waited impatiently for their guests and finally, just before dusk, a long train of black coaches came rattling into the cobbled courtyard. She watched from the window as they pulled to a stop and the drivers jumped down to help the cloaked figures out.
She ran to the king's room and found him waiting. He stood just inside the door, wearing a perfectly black suit over his silken white shirt. He had freshly shaved and his face looked almost boyish until her eyes wandered back up to the mask. In the growing darkness the rubies seemed to glow.
Calia swallowed hard and reminded herself it was still the same Cold King in there, not some new monster.
With shaking legs she went to stand behind and slightly to his right and followed him out of the room and down the stairs. The hours of practice hadn't been for naught as she found her knees strengthening, her spine straightening. She smoothed her face, wiping away any trace of emotion and tilted her chin up.
The guests stood in the entryway. Standing in the forefront was a man both older and taller than the king. But his red, bulbous nose and ugly streaks of coarse grey in his otherwise dark hair dulled what had probably been good looks in his youth.
Two girls, both appearing to be near the same age as Calia, stood behind the man. Calia compared their upturned noses and heart shaped faces and determined they must be sisters. They had the same dark hair as the man but clearly had taken after what must have been a beautiful mother. The older one stood ramrod straight and fixed her eyes on a point above all their heads while the younger simpered and batted her lashes at the Cold King.
Calia barely kept from glaring at her. Was she insane? Batting her eyes an immortal mad man that hid behind his demon masks? But she kept her face smooth and stopped when the king stopped, the perfect servant.
The ugly man bowed deeply. "King Valanka," he said, his deep voice rumbling. Calia's brow furrowed for an instant. She hadn't known the Cold King had a real name, she had never thought to ask. Or perhaps the title ‘The Cold King' suited him so perfectly she had just never wondered.
Her king returned the man's bow with a shallow one of his own. "King William, what a pleasure to have you here. To what do I owe the honor?" His voice was bright but flat.
King William rose up with a grin on his face. "Please, let me introduce my daughters." He gestured and the older one came forward stiffly, still not looking at anyone. "My eldest, and soon to be married, Sola." The young woman curtsied and quickly stepped back, never meeting eyes with Calia or her king. The younger sister eagerly took her place and dipped a low curtsy, putting her surprisingly ample cleavage on display. "And my youngest, my jewel, Justine." The girl curtsied again and her dress strained to contain her chest.
Calia heard a quiet, exasperated sigh come from the king.
"Lovely to meet you both," he said in that same, false voice. He turned back to their father. "You are very welcome here. My staff has prepared a meal. Perhaps you and your daughters would like to freshen up before hand?"
"You are too generous, King Valanka," the man said. The grim twinkle in his eye made Calia uneasy.
Marchello gave a discreet cough and led the unwanted guests away.
Calia was brimming over with questions but held her tongue and followed her king into the main dining room. He plopped down onto one of the casual couches as if already exhausted. Calia, not forgetting her role, poured and served him a glass of wine. "Anything else, my lord?" she murmured.
He said nothing for a long moment, just swirled the dark drink in his glass. "What do you make of our guests, Calia?"
She started a little at that. She wasn't sure he had ever said her name before.
"Speak plainly," he commanded.
Needing no further invite, she laid out her impression. "He doesn't seem as nice as he wants you to think. His older daughter is terrified of you and the younger is a floozy."