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?"
The king looked at her in wonder. "You did it. You broke the curse."
She shook her head. "It's not broken, the scars are still there."
"But the pain is gone. Three hundred years of agony and now it has been lifted. You broke the curse."
Calia frowned. "It wasn't me."
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close again. "It was your love," he insisted and felt her shake her head against his chest.
"If that were true the spell would have been broken months ago."
He smiled into her hair. "That long?" Then he pulled back. "But then what broke it, if not your love? I've searched for the cure for three hundred years … "
Calia tipped her head up to look at him. "You abandoned your vanity and freed your slaves all in one morning. Perhaps that had something to do with it," she hinted.
"Ah," he said, seeing her point. "So it was you."
She made to argue but he put a finger against her mouth. "You have made me realize some very ugly things about myself. But you also made me realize I wanted to be a man again, even if I would remain an ugly, cursed one who would never be worthy of you." He ran his hands through her hair before cupping her cheeks. "You have given me more than I ever dreamed of."
"And what will you do now that you have everything you desire?" she asked quietly.
His face grew solemn and his hands slid down to her shoulders. "I don't have everything, not if you don't stay."
"And what shall I be to you? Your servant? Your play thing?"
"No. My wife, my family, my everything."
She smiled and reached up to run a hand along his cheek. "Only if you promise to burn every last one of those masks."
The king laughed and kissed the top of her head. "As you command, my queen."