The Cold King(26)

Calia stayed late that evening. The king had been quiet and pensive the  entire day but lacked his usual harshness. He fidgeted in his chair,  stared off into space and sighed every few moments. Calia became worried  he was catching ill but just as she stood to fetch Iago the tenth bell  rang. The king looked up and pinned her with his bright eyes. "It is  late Calia, you should be in bed already."

She nodded and let herself out. Curious again, she pressed her ear to  her door after she shut it and waited. Sure enough, after a few moments  the king's door softly opened and closed. Calia counted to ten before  easing her door open and poking her head out into the hallway. The king  was at the far end and just disappearing around the corner.



The next evening when she got up to fetch his dinner tray he cleared his  throat and stood up from his desk. "Calia," he said, his voice filled  with uncertainty.

She stood frozen at the door. "Yes, my king?"                       
       
           



       

"Perhaps you would like to dine with me tonight."

Her heart banged painfully against her chest. "I would like that very much."

He nodded and ducked his head to hide the twitch of his lips. "Ask Cato to help you carry the trays up."

Cato was incredulous when Calia repeated the king's instructions. "You're going to eat up there? With him? Why?"

Jos smirked from his chair at the table. "What an astounding development."

Calia quirked her eyebrows at him but he just laughed and turned away.

Cato arranged the trays and helped her bring them up. After he set them  down, he turned to the king. "Can I get you anything else, My … " He  trailed off and the king looked up from his desk.

Cato stepped back as he took in the new mask. He looked from the king to  Calia to the king again. "Um, My Lord," he said hastily. "Can I get you  anything else?"

"Nothing, thank you." His voice was hard and tight but he relaxed  visibly when the cook left the room. He touched a finger to his mask and  Calia wondered why he was so self-conscious about it.



With a sigh the king stood from his desk. "Shall we?" he asked, sweeping his arm to indicate the table.

Calia nodded and took a seat but didn't move to take the cover from her  plate. The king didn't either. "Are you sure you're all right?" she  finally asked.

"Calia, I haven't dined with anyone outside of the wretched formal  dinners I am occasionally forced to attend so please forgive me if my  manners are a bit rusty."

"I was just worried about you," she said quietly.

"Don't be. Now eat your dinner."

They ate in silence and when they were finished she cleared their dishes  and the king excused her for the evening. Exhausted by the confusing  day she gratefully retired to her room but when the tenth bell rang she  snuck out of bed to press her ear against her door. Once again she heard  soft swooshing and clicks as the king left his room. Where was he going  to at night? For a second she debated following but quickly decided  against it. Satisfying her curiosity would not be worth his wrath.

In the morning she let herself into his rooms with his breakfast tray in  hand. The king wasn't at his desk. "Oh no," she whispered to herself,  "He really was getting sick."

She sat the tray down and turned to find him standing in front of the  fireplace. His hair was unruly and his shirt rumpled and un-tucked. His  skin held a strange pallor and Calia rushed over to him.

"My king, are you all right?" she asked. It appeared he didn't even hear  her question and panic shot through her. "My king?" she repeated and  reached a hand up to feel the temperature of his forehead. Slowly he  roused himself from his daze.



He looked down at her and frowned and she pulled her hand back. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

She hadn't felt a fever but he clearly wasn't fine. "I don't think you are, my lord. I will go fetch Iago."

The king shook his head and grabbed her hand to stop her from leaving. "I don't need him, I don't need anything."

Calia tightened her fingers around his and despite her worry she thrilled at the sensation of his rough skin against hers.

"You are pale and unkempt and you didn't even hear me speaking to you,"  she insisted. "Something is not right. Please, tell me what I can do to  help."

His lips turned up into a faint, sad smile. "Sweet Calia," he murmured. "You remind me a little of her."

A little pang of jealousy struck her. "Who, my lord?"

"My sister. She was very sweet, always looking after me." His mind  seemed very far away. "Three hundred and ten years ago today she died."  Calia watched with alarm as the silk fabric of his mask darkened under  his eyes. Her cold king seemed to be melting right in front of her. "I  still miss her every day. Is that silly?"

Calia threw her arms around her king, pulling him close. "That's not  silly at all," she said with a thick voice. She pressed her face against  his shoulder and felt his arms come clumsily around her waist. "Your  sister sounds like she was a wonderful person." The king shook against  her and Calia knew he was crying.



She also knew the pain of mourning a loved one and so she didn't let go.  The king tightened his arms around her and sunk his face into hair.  After a while his breathing evened out and his arms dropped.

He stepped away and turned his back on her. "Please forgive my  weakness," he mumbled and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket.

Calia bit her lip, unsure of what to say. Finally she said, "I lost my  father a few years ago. He was a good man, but I was the only one who  seemed to think so. My mother was pregnant with the twins and hated him  for leaving her in such a state. My younger sister always went along  with whatever she said and so I was left to mourn him alone. It was  awful, almost as painful as losing him in the first place."                       
       
           



       

The king nodded his head but didn't turn around. "How did he die?"

"He was exploring in the mountains. He called it research and always  carried a little book with him that he would sketch pictures of plants  and animals in." Calia smiled to herself. "My father didn't do anything  with the information, he was a just a miner, but he was always curious  and loved discovering new things."

She wrapped her arms around her chest, remembering her kind and gentle  father. He had made life wonderful but when he passed it had all turned  bleak.

Painful memories began to seep in and Calia shook her head to clear them  away. Looking up, she spotted the abandoned breakfast tray and poured a  cup of tea for the king. When she placed it on the small table next to  his armchair he spoke. "Thank you for your kindness. I trust you will  speak of it to no one."



"Of course not," she murmured.

"Then I shall excuse you for the morning. I … have a lot of work to do."

"Of course," she repeated and let herself out.





Abelina found her in the library sometime later with an unopened book in hand.

"Are you all right, my dear?" she asked after watching her for a moment.

Calia looked up, her face pensive. "Yes, thank you."

"You look sad. Is there anything wrong?"

Calia shrugged her shoulders, unsure of how to answer. Finally she settled on, "I promised not to speak of it."

"Then you shouldn't." She looked the girl over. "But you are all right? You are not harmed in anyway?"

Calia's eyebrows furrowed down over her darkened eyes. "Of course not. It's just that, well …  I don't know how I feel anymore."

Abelina kept her face smooth to hide her surprise. "About what?"

A flush crept up on Calia's cheeks and Abelina guessed the cause. "I don't know. Everything."

"You mean you don't know how you feel about our king?"

Calia looked up, her eyes ablaze.

"Easy, child. I remember how it was coming here, I know how you feel."



Calia doubted that very much, she didn't even know how she felt.

"I hated the king, at first." Abelina glanced at the young girl. "Yes, I  know it's treason to say it, but I once felt the same way you did. I  didn't choose to come here."

Calia held her breath and waited for the housekeeper to continue.

"I used to be very young and beautiful. My parents weren't wealthy but  they did well enough. I even had a beau." She smiled to herself. "He was  so handsome. I thought we would be married. But there was another  family, a very wealth family, vying for his attention."

Calia said nothing.

"He wanted me, that much was clear. We were a good fit, we loved the  same things, despised the same things. But it was no match for wealth.  The king came down the summer before I thought my love would propose to  me and demanded a housekeeper." Abelina sighed. "There were so many  unwanted girls; I never thought I would be chosen. But money can  accomplish a lot." She gave a sad smile. "They paid for me to go, to  clear the way for their daughter." She glanced at Calia. "I too was  locked in the dungeon, I too was forsaken. I hated the king for a long  time, blamed him for every bad thing that had happened to me."