The Cold King

CHAPTER FIFTEEN


THE 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?”

Calia bit back a sharp retort.

Marchello looked between them again before bowing. “Whenever you are ready, my dear.”

“Might as well get it over with,” she grumbled, trying to keep the pain from her voice.

Cato came skidding out of the kitchens as they passed. “If you are going to town I need more…” he trailed off.

Jos came up and elbowed him in the side. “Put your tongue away,” he snapped. “She’s not even your type.”

Cato shook himself from his stupor and gave Jos him a wicked grin. “No, but I can still appreciate.” Calia looked at him questioningly. “Um, cinnamon. Can you bring me back more cinnamon?”

She nodded mutely and followed the Marchello out to the carriage. The ride was long and bumpy and Calia was glad she did not have to share it with anyone. Her thoughts wandered from her hateful family to her peaceful time with the king to her uncertain future and back to the king again.

When they came to the center of town Marchello pulled to a stop and helped her out of the carriage. With a grimace he looked her up and down again before speaking. “Please, tell me what is going on?”

Calia tucked her face into her shoulder. “The king finds me so delightful he wants me to find a husband.”

“A husband?” Marchello questioned. “That’s ridiculous! He never sends servants away. And we all rather thought…” he trailed off.

Calia’s heart leapt. “You all thought what?”

“Well, we thought perhaps he was falling for you. He’s become a different man since you arrived. I cannot imagine he would want to send you away.” The butler shook his head sadly.

Calia felt better knowing she wasn’t the only one who had thought the king had grown fond of her but it did nothing to change the situation. With a heavy heart she said, “He doesn’t want me. No one does, no one ever has. Maybe he’ll see no one here would want me as a wife and let me stay on as his servant?” she wondered hopefully.

Marchello shook his head. “I cannot imagine what he is thinking.”

Calia gave a sad shrug and pulled out the list the king had given for her. “I do not think I’ll be long. He wants buttons and ink and quills in addition to my stupid yarn.”

“Do not forget the cinnamon.”

Calia forced a smile. “Of course not. Where shall I meet you?”

“I’ll be at the tavern,” Marchello said with a wink. “Our little secret?”

Calia frowned. “I am not going in there after you. I’ll wait in the carriage.”

“Fair enough,” he replied.

Calia garnered much more attention than she had bargained for in her saucy outfit. Every shop keeper seemed determined to sell her things she did not need. She wondered if the kings former servant had been as young as her that maybe they wouldn’t have ignored her when she fell in the mud so many months ago.

“Calia!” she heard shouted as left the seamstress shop. “Calia!”

She sighed and looked around. Sure enough, her mother was hurrying up the street. She was wearing the gown the king had gifted to her and her frizzy hair waved about her cheeks.

“There you are girl! I was looking everywhere for you.”

“Why? I do not have anything to give you.”

Mrs. Thorn’s face fell a little before she noticed all the people leaning in to listen to the conversation. “Can’t I just wish to visit with my eldest daughter?”

Calia sighed and led her mother to a less crowded store. She looked over the yarn while her mother fretted and tapped her foot. Finally Calia turned to her. “I meant it, I have nothing for you.”

Her mother huffed. “Isn’t the king grateful to me for bringing up his prized servant?”

“Not anymore,” Calia snapped. “He’s sending me away.”

Mrs. Thorn’s face paled in shock. “What have you done now, you stupid girl?”

Calia clenched her jaw. “Nothing,” she said through gritted teeth. “Nothing expect be the best servant and kindest girl I could be. I earned his respect and affection but not his love. And he doesn’t want mine so he doesn’t want me around. He wants me to find a husband.”

Her mother grimaced. “Surely he knows I cannot afford a dowry for you.”

“I am sure he’ll take care of it, he is desperate to be away from me.”

Mrs. Thorn looked around to make sure no one was listening in. “Do you think he’ll announce it?”

“Announce what?” Calia asked impatiently.

“Your disgrace as his servant!” her mother hissed.

“I did not know falling in love was a disgrace,” she retorted.

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Falling in love is for fools. I married your father for money and I made a good catch. If I had married for love, I would probably be poor!”

“You are poor,” Calia reminded her harshly.

“Yes, but only because your idiot father had the nerve to die on me!”

Calia could take no more of her awful mother. She reached into the purse the king had given her and fished out a fistful of gold coins. “Take these and leave me be.”

Her mother eyed the money greedily, snatched the coins up and stuffed them into her own purse. “Do not come crawling back to me now that you’ve messed your job up, I have no room for you,” she said over her shoulder haughtily.

Calia stood for a long time in front of the yarn display. The colors swam together as her vision blurred from tears. When she finally composed herself she picked the darkest, gloomiest colors and brought the skeins to the cashier to pay for them.

The sky was darkening and Calia glanced up to see rain clouds moving in. “Of course,” she muttered.

Rain began to patter as she ran to the general store. Everyone else was running home or ducking into their own shops. Her dress was soaked and her hair hanging down around her ears by the time she made it into the cramped store.

It smelled terrible. Not foul, but like every good thing all at once. The scent was overpowering. Determined to have everything anyone in the town could need, and thus beating out his competition, Mr. Horatio had filled the building with towering, over filled shelves spaced too closely together. The feeling was claustrophobic.

Calia pushed past saddles and tacks and then reams of fabric. Disoriented and frustrated, she shoved towards what she hoped was the front of the store. Finally she made it the long counter.

There was no one in sight and she browsed along until she found a large canister of cinnamon. She waited and waited before tapping on the counter. “Hello? A little service, please.”

The swinging doors to the store room crashed open. “Sorry ma’am what can I…” Delmar trailed off as he caught sight of Calia in her dress. “Well, well. Come to your senses finally?”

She bristled and wrapped her arms around herself. “I just need cinnamon,” she said tersely.

“Sure,” he said slowly, eyeing her up and down. Her nerves began to fray and she glanced around, already knowing no one else was in the store. “And how much did you need?”

“Oh. Um, I am not sure,” she said shakily.

He leaned over the counter and leered at her. “You so desperately need cinnamon but you do not know how much?”

“No, I do not,” she snapped. “I am a servant, not the cook.”

She stiffened as someone brushed into her backside. “I hear you are not even that anymore,” Durant purred into her ear.

Calia whirled away from him, desperate for someone to enter the store.

“Really brother? Do tell,” Delmar asked with false enthusiasm.

“Well,” he drawled out, “I heard from someone who heard from someone that Miss Calia here has been dismissed from the king’s services. I guess she is not as pleasing to the eye as she thinks she is.”

“I haven’t been dismissed,” Calia retorted. “He’s expecting me back!”

They both laughed. “No,” Durant purred. “He isn’t. And no one here cares what happens to you.”

“I am just here for cinnamon,” she said evenly, looking for a way around him and out the front door.

Delmar cocked his head and traced a finger over the counter. “Yes, but you do not know how much you want?”

“I think she’s looking for a double helping,” Durant said, his eyes as sinisterly dark as his voice.

Fear weakened her stomach but strengthened her legs and Calia spun to run down the closest aisle.

“Grab her!” one of them shouted.

Calia shoved past the over flowing wares, running as fast as the crowded store would allow her. She could feel their boot heels thumping on the wooden floors and prayed to make it to the front door before they could. At the end of the aisle there was the shimmer of a window and she pumped her legs faster.

Then Durant stepped out in front of her. “Can I help you find what you’re looking for?” he jeered.

Calia skidded to a stop and turned around, running right into Delmar’s chest. His arms were instantly around her like steel bands.

“Let go!” she shrieked.

He pulled her head back with a viscous yank of her hair. “I do not think that’s what you really want.”

She shoved a knee up into his groin and he doubled over but she could not get past him in the crowded aisle.

She spun to see Delmar rushing up the crowded pathway and in desperation began climbing the unsteady shelving. Her dress hung and clung to everything, impeding her escape but she struggled on anyway, terrified for her life.

A cold, hard hand dug into her thigh and dragged her down to the ground. She hit the floor with a painful thud and was yanked back up to her feet almost immediately. Delmar pulled her in roughly and buried his nose in her hair, taking a deep breath before shoving her at his recovered brother.

“Come on,” he muttered. “Before someone comes in.”

“Help!” she shrieked, suddenly reminded of the hope of rescue. “Somebody, please—”

Her cries were cut off with an iron fist smashing into her mouth. “Shut up,” Durant growled, grabbing her arm and dragging her forward.

Calia gagged on the blood flooding her mouth but still fought. She poked at his eyes but he easily batted her hand away before slapping her and she felt her cheek split under his thick ring.

“Hurry up,” Delmar hissed.

“A little help?” his brother asked sarcastically. Delmar lunged forward and kicked Calia’s legs out from beneath her, causing a sharp crack in her ankle.

They both ignored her cries as one took her by the legs and the other took her by the arms and carried her to the back of the store.

She fought and twisted and heaved but they just clamped down harder. In one, nauseating swing they lurched her over the counter she had been standing at only a moment before and the whole world spun before coming to a painful, jarring halt.

Her head swimming, Calia scrambled to her feet as fast as she could but the brothers were over the counter faster and grabbed her again.

Then the little bell over the shop door jingled.

Calia opened her mouth to scream and Durant clamped his hand down over it. He looked frantically at his brother who motioned to the swinging doors leading to the back. They swiftly dragged her through them and all the way to the far wall of the building.

Durant never took his hand from her mouth and pinned her down while his brother roughly bound her hands and feet with scratchy twine.

“Her mouth too,” he hissed. “She’s just gonna keep yelling.”

Delmar gave a savage grin. “She cannot yell if she’s not awake.”

And then he swung his heavy fist into the side of her head and Calia felt no more.





She came back to reality slowly. Her mouth was bitter and everything hurt. She shook her head from side to side, trying to gain her vision before realizing all was dark.

Panic seized her and she fought it, trying to remember what was going on. A voice floated to her. “You boys finish up with sweeping and mopping so we can get home before the rain comes again.”

“Mother,” she heard Delmar say sweetly, “we had promised to help Mrs. Peepers close up shop and see her home. You don’t mind, do you?”

She heard his mother titter. “You boys are so sweet. I’ll just help you finish.”

Calia jerked against her bonds. She could yell out but knew it would do her no good. Mrs. Horatio was blind to her son’s sins. Either that or she had purposely turned a blind eye to them.

The twine binding her hands slowly loosened as she sawed her wrists together. Calia ignored the burn as the rough twine dug in and was soon rewarded with enough give to slide one bloodied hand free. She frantically pulled at the ropes around her ankles before calming enough to pick the knot apart. It finally loosened and she eased her feet out. The sounds of laughter and cleaning up continued to come from the front of the store and Calia stood slowly.

The room was dark and hot and stale. It was barely illuminated by the high windows along the back wall. Shadowy mountains were lumped everywhere and Calia reached out with a shaky hand to poke the nearest one. Cloth.

The entire back room was a dark maze of haphazardly placed stock. Fear froze her for a moment. If she wandered around in the dark she was sure she would knock something over and alert her attackers.

Calia shook her aching head. Her eyes had adjusted slightly and the heaps of wares stood out just a bit more. Unsure of where to go, she slowly just made her way to what seemed to be the clearest pathway and followed it along far wall. A small gleam caught her eye and her heart lurched in her chest when she felt the cold, smooth doorknob. With abated breath she eased it open and was rewarded with cool night air.

The new coldness made her face ache and she wondered how long she had been out. Disoriented and in pain, she followed the lights and sounds of revelry, never leaving the side of the building.

Her ankles ached but she pushed on as quickly and quietly as she could. Eventually she had to cross an open alleyway to reach the tavern and she rushed across as soon as she was sure no one was looking. Holding her breath again she risked peeking into one of the low windows. No Marchello.

Fear spurned her on and she rushed out to the street. The carriage was not waiting for her.

Calia would have to walk that long road again, for the third time. Sharp bolts of pain lanced through head with each heart beat and her ankles felt too large for her shoes. With an exhausted sigh she took her first step back to the castle.

Voices rang out in the darkness and Calia leapt for the cover of trees.

Wetness from the ground soaked into her skirts, making them even heavier and her even colder. Crouched in the scratchy bushes she strained to hear the brothers voices but didn’t’. Cautiously Calia crept back onto the road and began to make her way to the castle. It was a silent walk, other than her occasional groans of pain. The sky cleared enough for the moon to light her walk and she limped along, finally feeling safe.

The palace gates were in sight when she heard the galloping of hoofs. She dove into the underbrush, reopening her cuts as her face dragged against sharp branches.

The riders slowed as they passed her. “She’s got to be here somewhere,” Delmar whispered loudly.

“Oh really? What if she already made it back?”

“She could not have, we would already be dead. Besides, she’s hurt and can’t have gotten that far.”

Calia held her breath and waited. They meandered up to the gates and slowly came back down. From between the barren bushes she could see their faces scanning the woods. She waited until she could no longer hear the hoof beats and then waited several minutes longer.

Sure they were gone, she burst from the trees and ran up the road.

“There she is!” She heard the shout come from behind her.

Calia saved her breath and dove through the gate, slamming it shut behind her. The cobbled courtyard echoed her hurried steps and she leapt for the door at the front entrance.

Frantic, she twisted the knob but the door would not open. “Locked?” she cried to herself before taking up banging on the thick door.

The squealing of the front gates gave away the brothers trying to sneak onto the property and Calia slipped down off the stoop and ran as quietly as she could along the wall. The moon slid behind a cloud and she reached up hand to trail along the stone as she ran. In the darkness and so close to the castle she could not determine where exactly she was. But she could clearly hear the footsteps of the brothers as they pursued her.

“Please, please,” she whispered under her breath. The wall fell away and Calia stumbled into a prickly bush. The smell of the crushed petals let her knew she was in the garden. The moon slid out again and she could see it clearly. Hopeful yet still terrified, she jumped over plants and flowers, forcing herself to move faster and faster. She couldn’t tell if the thudding she was hearing was the footsteps of the brothers or her own blood whooshing in her ears.

The garden opened into a patio she thought she recognized. With nothing to impede her, she ran along the smooth stones, keeping her eyes up to find a lighted window she could scream at.

Suddenly she slammed full force into something much larger than herself. The momentum flung her back down to the ground and her head cracked painfully against it. Stars were bursting behind her closed eyelids and her stomach clenched. With her head swimming so violently she couldn’t sit up but managed to roll to her side and force her eyes open.

A pair of bare legs stood before her.

Calia moaned.

“What are you doing?” a dark, low voice asked. “How dare you?”

Calia painfully raised her eyes up past the perfect calves, up past the towel draped around a slim waist, up to a perfect but scared chest.

Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his face for the first time.

Scar tissue twisted along his cheekbones and around his eyes. His flesh appeared melted and stirred, worse on one side than the other. She looked to see that the scar extended down, or rather up. ‘His shirt must have caught fire and licked his ribs before gathering force and climbing up to his chest. The heat of it must have melted the delicate skin on his face,’ she thought numbly.

The king didn’t move, just stood before her, dripping wet at the side of the small pool. Warm tendrils of steam rose from its surface and smelled faintly of salt.

Relief flooded her as she realized it was just a bad burn he had been hiding. Not another woman, not an evil alter ego. Nothing but a scar, nothing but pain.

“Valanka,” she breathed, climbing to her feet. It took her a few tries and he didn’t extend his hand to help her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

Her head swam and suddenly she remembered how she had got there. She spun around, looking for her would be rapists.

“The store owner’s sons, they are after me!”

The king glanced out into the darkness and saw nothing. His face twisted into angry sneer. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

She rocked back. “Best… what? I was attacked. Didn’t you wonder where I was, why I didn’t come back?”

“Was this all a plan?” he shouted, leaning his scarred face into hers. “To see me without my mask?”

“No,” she protested. Her mind was foggy and slow and when she put a hand to her head to stop the spinning, it came away bloody. “Look, I was attacked. I didn’t mean to come here; I was just looking for help.”

His anger didn’t fade. “No, you planned this. What is this? You hurt yourself just to see me?”

“You’re insane,” she cried. “I was abducted and hurt! They wanted to rape me!”

“Really?” he sneered, snatching his mask up from the table it sat on. He put it in place before turning to face her. “Where are they now?”

“I don’t know, they were right behind me.” Her head throbbed and she grabbed it with both hands, surprised she could not feel it pulsate.

“Unbelievable,” he breathed. “I’ve had servants betray me before, try to get a look at my face before, but never one as brazen as you.”

Calia stumbled on her swollen ankle but kept her feet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I just wanted to get away from them.”

“No. No, you wanted to see what was under the mask. And to think I thought I loved you!”

Her heart soared at his words. “You love me?”

“I thought I did,” he ground out. “But you’re no better than the rest. You just wanted to see the beast like all the rest of them did. Well, here I am. What do you think?” He opened his arms wide, baring his chest and the scars that covered it.

Her voice was quiet but honest. “I think you’re as handsome without the mask as I thought you would be. They are just bad scars, they don’t make you a monster.”

He stepped forward, forcing her to look more closely and she could see how tightly the scars pulled across his body. It had to be painful. She glanced at the warm salt water pool behind him and realized he must swim in it nightly to sooth his skin.

“You’re not a monster,” she pleaded. “You’re a man. Maybe cursed, maybe immortal. But can’t you see how good you are, how good you can be? Can’t you see how you’ve changed?”

His face was stone. “My father could have healed these scars. He could have let me die. But instead he chose to let me live as a twisted man forever. And I have done my best to fill his shoes, to be a good ruler, to be the best king I could be. I succeeded until you came along.” He stiffened. “I should kill you for your transgressions.”

“Kill me?” she squeaked. “I came upon you on accident while running from my attackers!”

“Who conveniently aren’t here? Keep your lies to yourself.” He leaned down again. “Leave now, before I decide to take your life.”

Calia bit back a sob. “I can’t leave, they will be waiting for me.”

“So you say,” he bit off. “Leave now or forfeit your life for your disobedience.”

“Because I saw your face?” she cried.

“Because you are insolent! I can’t believe I ever wanted you.”

All the pain in her body could not compare to the pain in her already shattered heart. With one last look at her king, Calia nodded, gathered her strength and limped away.

It took her a long while to find the gate out of the palace grounds but eventually she did. And when she stepped through it, she did not look back.