The Cold King (20 page)

A cloth was mopped across her back again and she continued. “When I got out, I slipped and knocked the jar over.”

The king took a deep breath before positioning the pincers again. “You fell onto the jar after it shattered?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” The tool dug in a little deeper and she arched her back again.

“Hold steady, I almost have it,” he murmured. The pincers grabbed onto the tiny corner of glass deep in her flesh and Calia yelped as it was pulled free. Fresh blood poured out of the wound, she could feel its warmth. The king wadded the towel up and pressed it to her back. “Lean against the chair a moment,” he said.

She watched him dig around frantically in the kit, pulling out paper packets, reading Iago’s hand written labels and then throwing them aside. Finally he found the one he wanted. ‘Apply to bleeding area, cover with a clean cloth and keep firm pressure for several minutes.’

He ducked into the bathroom and returned with a clean cloth. “Sit up,” he said, motioning her with his hands.

“Is it really so bad?” she asked. “It actually is already starting to feel better.”

“I imagine it is,” he said, pulling the bloody cloth from her back and smoothing the dried herbs from the packet over the cut. He put the clean towel over it all and pressed against her back. Her face was still pale and he feared he would push her over.

“I apologize,” he said before placing the heel of his other hand just under her collar bone. He pressed his hands together as hard as he dared and prayed the poultice worked quickly.

Calia turned her head and found the kings face only inches from hers. “You’re very good at this. Did Iago teach you?”

His lips twisted up in a little smile. “No, although he has taught me a lot. I don’t always have a healer in the castle; it depends on who my servants are at the time. I found it prudent to at least know the basics.”

Calia nodded and the king noticed the way her unbound hair waved around her face. His breath caught when she shifted in her chair and it brought them closer together. “Sorry, it feels better but it still hurts.”

“I imagine it will be sore for a while. The second piece of glass was as large as my thumbnail.”

Calia looked down at the hand on her chest to see the size of his nail and blanched. When she raised head her nose skimmed his jawline and they both froze. He could feel how rapidly her heart was beating in her chest and his own responded.

Her breath was faint and sweet on his mouth and he leaned in to taste it. He hoped she would pull away, he was sure she would, but instead she meet him halfway and pressed her mouth to his with a need of her own. The kiss was chaste but warm and sweet, everything Calia had hoped her first kiss would be.

Shaking, she pulled away and opened her surprised eyes. The king was gazing back at her and she wished she could see his face instead of the mask.

“I think the bleeding has stopped,” he said huskily and jerked his arms away.

Calia nodded numbly and touched a finger to her lips.

The king stood up so suddenly his chair was knocked over. “I apologize.” He stood awkwardly for a moment while she gazed up at him before turning to the leave room as fast as he could without actually running.

Iago came up to her room in the morning and knocked lightly. “Are you sleeping?” he called. The door opened and Calia pulled it back for him.

“No, not sleeping,” she said quietly but there was a small smile on her face. “How did you know to come up?”

“The king was waiting for me when I returned. He said the cut was quite serious, are you in pain?” She shook her head, the smile still on her lips.

Puzzled, Iago picked through the things the king had left on the table. “Well, let me see it. Would you like Abelina present?”

“No, it’s just the back of my shoulder. Besides, the king saw me wrapped only in a towel, I doubt things could be more improper than that.”

Iago’s jaw slowly dropped and his mouth puckered like a fish’s. “Only a towel?”

Calia blushed. “He didn’t tell you that part?”

“Good heavens, no. He just said you had been cut and he wanted me to check it. Why were you in a towel?”

Her face turned an even deeper shade of scarlet. “I had just gotten out of the bath and had slipped. I was decently covered,” she added hastily.

Iago nodded skeptically and motioned for her to pull the shoulder of her dressing gown down. He winced at the sight of the cut and dabbed at it with tonic. “It might have used some stitches but it is too late now. It is good he put the poultice on it.”

“Iago?” Calia asked and her voice was far away.

“Hmm?”

“Has the king ever been married?”

Iago’s hands stilled on her shoulder. “No, never.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “What about… what about lady friends? Has he had many of those?”

“Not any that I know of.” Curious and hopeful, he added, “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” she said quickly.

“I can’t imagine he’d have time for a lady friend. Doesn’t he spend all his time with you?” he hinted. “Well, except for the hour he spends alone every evening.”

Calia craned her neck to stare at him. “You know about that?”

“I know of it,” he said evasively, not willing to give away the kings secret. “Perhaps he
is
meeting a lady,” he said joked nervously.

Calia’s heart plunged into her stomach. She hadn’t considered that, perhaps that was why he had run from the room after their kiss.

Iago watched her face fall and the spark in her eyes die out. “I was only kidding,” he insisted gently, tugging a strand of her hair playfully. “Now, no lifting with that arm. The skin has come together nicely but I don’t want the scab to tear.”

She nodded but barely heard him.

The king was cold and distant when she went to him later that morning. He wouldn’t meet her eye when she addressed him but later she could feel them on her, when she wasn’t looking. After lunch he claimed to have much work to do and dismissed her for the day.

Hurt and uncertain, she merely nodded and retired to her rooms.

The same thing happened the next day and the next. Her bewilderment and embarrassment grew until she could take it no longer.

She was waiting for him that evening when he snuck out of his bed chambers at the tenth bell. “Could I have a word with you?” she asked, stepping from a shadow in the hall.

He gave a pained sigh that cut her to the quick but motioned her into his room. His fire was still burning and she took her usual seat. He took his and steepled his fingers under his chin.

“Are you angry with me?” she finally burst out.

The king looked up in surprise. “No, never.” She shot him an angry glare. “Well, almost never.”

“Then why are you so quiet and brooding? Is it about the other night?” she demanded.

The king sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Her stomach fluttered as he stood and came to sit on the little foot stool in front of her chair. When he took her hands in his, her heart surged with joy. “You are a wonderful person,” he began and her cheeks warmed at his attention. “You have transformed from someone homely and broken to a beautiful, strong young woman. You have changed everything in my life, and in my home, for the better.”

Calia bit her lip as tears flooded her eyes. She had battled her feelings for the king for so long, convinced he could never feel the same way about her. “Yes?” she prompted.

The king hesitated and bowed his head. “You deserve so much more than this life; you deserve a husband that will love you and children—a family”

She nodded mutely, not trusting her voice.

“And that is why I must send you away.”

Her heart stopped in her chest. “Send… send me away?”

“Yes. I cannot give you those things you so richly deserve.”

Her tears poured over as her forbidden dreams shattered into a thousand pieces. “But you can! I…” she faltered, not wanting to invite more pain in.

But he had to know.

She took a deep breath before baring her soul. “I love you.”

He looked up at her in shock. She waited a long moment for her declaration to set in, praying he felt the same way. But then he just shook his head. “No, sweet Calia, you do not.”

Her heart was a cold lump in her chest but she managed to speak around it. “Yes, I do. I have known for some time now and every day it grows stronger.”

The king hung his head and released her hands. “No, you only think you do. It’s a childish infatuation, something that happens frequently when my personal servants are female. Familiarity breeds feelings and well, I am the only male you, or any of the others, have been familiar with in your adult life.” She opened her mouth to argue but he held his hand up. “I have seen it a dozen times. In time you will realize your feelings for me were nothing more than a production of being around me and you will get over it, just as they did.”

A sob tore from her and Valanka looked up. “Please do not cry. I won’t leave you to that fate. I should never have encouraged you and I am so very sorry. That is why I am sending you away, so that you can find true love and be happy with a worthy man.”

She shook her head and tears flew off her cheeks. “You
are
a worthy man.”

“Calia, I am not,” he said firmly. “I haven’t truly been a man since the day I was cursed. I am doomed to live forever as a ruler. I cannot allow myself to think and feel as a man when I have eternity to plan for.”

“So I would be inconvenient?” she whispered.

“You would be hurt and I do not want that, not again.” He stood up and turned to face the fire. She wiped her cheeks and bit the insides of her cheeks to stifle her crying. “Tomorrow you will go to town to fetch me some things. If no man there catches your eye then I will find you a different town where you will only be known as the beautiful young lady you are. Surely you will find a match then.”

“I have already found my match,” she said stubbornly. “I am not going shopping for a new love tomorrow.”

He turned back to her, his face firm and sad beneath his mask. “You are going shopping for that among other things. It is not a request. I know what is best for you and I will not allow you to be hurt, even by yourself.”

The tenth bell tolled and the king looked up.

Things clicked into place for Calia and her stomach filled with acid. “Time for your secret rendezvous?” she asked bitterly. “There really is another woman, isn’t there?”

His brows narrowed and he shook his head in confusion. “Of course not, do not be absurd.”

Calia did not think it was absurd but said nothing else. She rose from her chair, straightened her back and fled to her rooms. The king had left her every single evening at the toll of the tenth bell and it wasn’t lost on her that he hadn’t said he loved her back. “Perhaps he doesn’t love her either,” she said to herself before collapsing on her bed.

Chapter Fifteen

T
he night was long and
painful. Calia slept poorly and in the morning she awoke a new person. Once again she was unloved and unwanted but she would not let it destroy her in the way her own mother had. But shame and bitterness still boiled inside her and she wished more than anything she could avoid the king.

“Soon enough,” she whispered to herself. “Soon enough he will send me away.”

Her eyes were sore and gritty and she could feel the remnants of dried tears on her cheeks. She loathed to be a pathetic, heartsick girl in front of him and resolved to show him what he was missing. So she got up and scrubbed her face and set her hair as best she could. She rubbed sweet smelling lotion into her skin until it glowed and finally selected a dress from her wardrobe.

Upon first seeing the gown she had pushed it to the back of the wardrobe, feeling it was too becoming. The resplendent green dress had a heart shaped neckline that swept over her shoulders, revealing her neck. The bodice was tight down over her hips until it flared out and fell to her ankles. She felt a little ridiculous in it but if the king wanted her to find a husband then she should only look her best.

She hoped he choked when he saw her.

Calia wasn’t disappointed. Hot tea came spraying from the king’s nose when she walked into the dining room and he coughed and gasped while fumbling for a napkin.

Calia watched with grim satisfaction while he tried to take a deep, steadying breath but then it seemed as though he were gathering much needed courage to face her. Shame and anger coursed through her and she stood a little taller while his eyes traveled up to meet hers.

“Are you all right, my king?” she asked, her smugness fading along with his coughing and sputtering. The king’s face was a splotchy red and he gave a final, watery cough to clear the tea from his lungs.

“Fine,” he finally wheezed, “quite fine.”

Calia gave a smile that was all teeth and served him a fresh cup but he would not meet her eyes again. Looking down at the table he said, “I see you are ready for your trip to the village.”

Her face fell a little. “As you command,” she replied quietly.

He sighed again and she turned away, trying to hide her broken heart.

Marchello came in and his eyes bugged out at the sight of her. “My dear,” he gasped. “You look… ravishing.”

“Thank you, Marchello,” she said glumly.

He looked from her to the king. “You require me to take her into town?” Marchello asked uncertainly.

“I do. She needs more yarn.” The king pressed a heavy bag of gold and a scrap of paper into her hand. “Do you think you could find these things as well?”