"My lady, the king has returned." I hear Bluebell from the door, and Evan and I instantly look at each other. I'm staring in shock and confusion, while he looks back with mischief and amusement, with that same smile on his face. "My apologies, I was not informed that the lady had company; I will come back later."
"It's alright, you can have her. I was about to leave anyway. It was my pleasure meeting you, lady...," he says, trailing off, as though waiting for something.
"Saltanat," I tell him. He nods, seemingly absorbing my name. He takes my hands in his, placing a kiss on the back. His lips are a stark contrast—cold against his warm and charming smile. I can almost feel his lips curve into a smile before he finally departs. Immediately, Bluebell rushes over, her small, cat-like eyes and a raised eyebrow conveying a mix of confusion and worry.
"What was that about, my lady?" she asks, once Evan's footsteps are out of earshot. She gazes at me as if she's caught a hunter fibbing about his catch. She walks over to the chair and sits beside me, waiting patiently for an answer—an answer I'm not certain I know how to articulate.
"I inadvertently gave an order to the king's brother," I admit. I recognize that I am not solely to blame, as he presented himself as a guard not with word eventually, and he insisted that I refrain from apologizing, offering to bring my belongings to me. Thus, the responsibility is not entirely mine. Nevertheless, I cannot ignore that I still send him dismissing the fact that the king could possibly have a brother. My focus was elsewhere, not on learning more about the king. As his spouse, I believe I deserve significant reprimand. I look to Bluebell, hoping she grasps the seriousness of my mistake, yet she appears simply confused. "As I moved from your chamber to mine, I realized I had forgotten the food tray in the library, and he offered his assistance. Misinterpreting his kindness, I assumed he was in the king's employ, and now I..." i try to explain but she cuts me off.
"The king doesn't have siblings, my lady. I thought I told you that," she exclaimed, and now I am the one confused. I do not recall her mentioning that the king was an only child, and I wonder why the man would lie to me.
"But the man from earlier claimed he was the king's brother," I continue. The man has no good reason to lie to me; we just met a few hours ago. "His name is Evan de Dione," I tell her, but she simply dismisses me with a shake of her head.
"I do not know who that man is or why he told you that, but my lady, the king has no siblings. He was an only child, and indeed, his mother was unable to have more children after him, so the man you encountered cannot be the king's brother," she declares with definitive certainty, allowing no room for debate. "Perhaps in time, we will comprehend his motives, but for now, what is it you wish of me to do?" she inquires, clearly referring to the king. My options are limited: I can either command her to convince everyone that I have retired for the night, or I can present myself to greet my king, fulfilling my duties as a concerned queen anxious about her husband's return. Alas, before I can respond, the door swings open, and there stands my husband.
"Welcome back, Your Grace," Bluebell says with a bow, breaking the intense and unwelcoming atmosphere. He simply nods and enters the room. Bluebell sends me a smile of reassurance before taking her leave. He stands there, tall with arms folded. His crown, a masterpiece of gold and mithril adorned with a central sapphire and intricate dragon motifs, symbolizes his wisdom and royal lineage if he has any. His armor, a stunning combination of dragon-scale leather and mithril plates, offers both protection and mobility, with a phoenix engraving I heard such animal signifieses rebirth and immortality. A grand, deep blue velvet cloak lined with northern white wolf fur billows majestically behind him, fastened with a dragon's claw clasp. His enchanted silver gauntlets enhance his strength and dexterity, while a wide, ornate belt with a dragon's head buckle secures his legendary celestial steel sword, glowing with runic power. His black boot covered in dusk and an indestructible shield bearing the royal crest complete his formidable ensemble, embodying the essence of a king warrior who commands respect and fear both on and off the battlefield. For some reason, I couldn't help but let the anger consume me, while he was there, doing whatever he had to do. Virtuous as this, I was here, calling out for him like a crazy wife obsessed with her husband. Now, I can picture why his previous wife did what she did. Manta clearly stated not to worry, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that he was in some sort of danger. What an imbecile I was.
"Welcome back, Your Highness," I say, my eyes downcast on the cold floor and my bare feet. I hadn't even realized I was without shoes. How could I be walking around barefoot? What would he think upon seeing me like this? But perhaps that's the least of his worries. With no reply to my greetings, I raise my head to meet his gaze, only to quickly look away. If he's here just to stand and stare, or if he assumes he can take me for granted after his days out of the palace he... 'Never raise your hand or voice; your husband is always right,' my mother's advice rings in my ears. What should I do if he forces himself on me? The only choice seems to be silence, as my husband holds all the power.
"I am sorry," I hear him say, leaving me utterly speechless. Why would he suddenly apologize? If Mother were here of all places, she would scold me back to death
"Your highness need..."
"Ileus, remember when I asked you to call me by my name and we are married, aren't we? Would you like me to call you Queen all the time?" he offers an apology for leaving right after our marriage, explaining that he needed to sort things out. I find myself wondering why he would do such a thing; he doesn't owe anyone an explanation, and as the king, his actions shouldn't be questioned by anyone, including me. Although I've been angry about him leaving without a proper explanation right after our wedding, the fact that he would apologize is unexpected. And all I did was curse him, even though I never wanted to consummate our marriage to begin with. "Saltanat?" he calls, bringing me back to his reality and I can't help but beam in amazement at what he just said.
"Your Highness knows my name?" I whisper, mostly to myself, leaving him speechless for a moment before he offers me a smile. So, he does smile. I'm unsure of what that mission entailed, but I refuse to believe he's the same man I married ten days ago. The other man was conservative, taciturn, and most importantly, he would never have apologized. But this one seems brand new, well-mannered, and different from the one who locked me in that accursed house. What happened to him?
"Why would I not know your name? I am your husband, remember?" he says, but it doesn't sound like a question it more like I have lost my mind for a second. He walks toward me, taking slow steps as if restraining himself from moving closer, and when he is close enough, he stops and stares right into the spot that keeps my soul flowing. He is much taller than I thought he could be, he looks at me from up to down perhaps making sure I was alright his face is full of wrinkles and dark circles under his eyes, he looks so tired and pale I fear he would collapse anytime soon but he seems so young yet full of authority and graciousness that I doubt something like this can be of any possibility.
"Sorry, I was just startled," I tell him, but he simply rests his hand under his chin and stares at me once more, does he think I am lying and I can't continue with this; I need to find a way out, or his gaze will bring me to my knees. Or, in the worst-case scenario, I'll end up slapping him across the face for attempting something untoward, and then he'll have to report it to Mother, just like my late husband had to when I kicked him after he tried to force himself on me for the first time.
"How do you find the palace?" Well, that was an unexpected turn of events. Did he really walk all that way just to ask if the palace was to my liking? He surely has some nerve, especially knowing what his own quarters look like. Scaring people like that is not good, especially coming from someone like a king.
"Yes, it is," I manage to reply, but it doesn't seem to satisfy him much. "I haven't had the chance to explore every corner of it, but I will try," I continue, hoping this is the answer he wants to hear. Suddenly, he steps closer, so close that my heart begins to race at each step of his, a pace unlike before. I try to step back but freeze when our eyes meet, and we stay like that for a moment, absorbing each other's expressions, perhaps ensuring we are both alright I do not know how long we stay like that. However, a faint scent of alcohol and a rosy perfume breaks the spell. I lean in closer to him, taking in the scent, and as expected of a king, he must have relished his time outside the palace. He looks down at me, a mix of confusion and embarrassment on his face, perhaps because I sniffed him before speaking.
"What are you..." he began, but I interrupted him before he could continue.
"Your Highness must be weary from all the work and lack of sleep; I am certain some rest would do you good. As for myself, I must also seek my bed, for I have not had a moment's rest. Does Your Highness require my presence, or may I take my leave?" I inquire, striving to conceal my dissatisfaction with him. Here I was, concerned about not receiving any news of his well-being, and yet I accepted his apologies, berating myself for having cursed him, And there he was—the king, seated on a warm and comfortable couch, with a joyous woman atop him, offering pleasures I could never match. Her inviting curves, long hair, and seductive eyes must have made his 'important mission' quite enjoyable. Too angry to wait for an answer, I couldn't bear to stay in the same room and retreated to my dressing room, hoping he would be gone. When I came here, I thought I could adapt to sharing my husband with another woman, as my previous one was no different. But I never anticipated it would happen this soon. He didn't even attempt to get to know me. Instead, the first thing he does is enter my room inebriated, or rather, to inform me that I was clearly not to his liking. I slump to the floor, clutching my knees for support, and weep. Lately, crying seems to be the only thing I do well crying because I don't feel intelligent enough, crying over my mother, and crying because of the king, my supposed husband. To think he banished the queen for the very same behavior he exhibits now is hardly surprising. I sat there for a while, and after I finished crying, I walked into the bathroom to wash the salt from my face before heading back out. To my surprise, the king had not only stayed in my room, but he was also lying curled on his side, cradled in the cozy embrace of the bed's soft sheets. His legs were gently bent, pulling up towards his chest in a snug fetal position. One arm was tucked under the pillow, and the other was stretched across his body, his hand softly grasping the blanket's edge. His face, serene and relaxed, was partly hidden by a tousled mop of dark hair. The steady rise and fall of his chest signaled the rhythm of deep, undisturbed sleep. In the room's dim light, the subtle outline of his form suggested the silent strength and vulnerability of a man submerged in the realms of dreams, far from the burdens of the waking world. "He did not leave as he should have and instead occupied the little space; I keep for myself. What a selfish man," I think to myself, hoping he meets his end in his sleep. Could he be feigning sleep to attack me? I gasp at the thought, which might well be true. Retreating to my dressing room, I retrieve a large blanket and drape it over the couch. Then, I return to my side of the bed, collect a pillow, and place it where I've laid out the blanket and find my own rest on it.
...
"My lady? Wake up," I hear Bluebell's gentle voice, and soon after, I feel her palm on my cheek why is she always warm even when the temperature is as high as the north pole? "My lady," she calls out a bit louder this time before pulling me from the warm and cozy blanket. I eventually open my eyes and try to look at her. "Why aren't you up yet, my lady? You will miss breakfast. Come on now," she scolds, walking to the curtains to draw them apart, then walks into the bathroom. I try to place my foot on the floor, but it seems too far. Suddenly, I regain all my lost senses and stare at where I was lying. I remember sleeping on the couch; how did I get here? I look around to make sure I was indeed on my bed even the blanket I used is nowhere to be found on that couch. I shuffle rapidly when I realize I was under the same blanket the king used last night.
"He didn't, perhaps?" I question myself but instantly exhale a sigh of relief upon seeing that I am fully clothed. He must have carried me to the bed, but when? I didn't notice anything at all. A blush quickly spreads across my face, and I try to compose myself before Bluebell sees it. I step down and walk into the bathroom where Bluebell is folding the towel I'll be using. Then, I walk back out to the dressing room to remove my nightgown before returning.
"Here, my lady, the water is ready," she informs, and I, waist-deep, entered. The air was laden with the intoxicating scent of the bath, a potent mixture promising relaxation and rejuvenation. As I stepped into the water, a sigh of contentment escaped me, the warmth wrapping around me. Petals caressed my skin, each one easing the tension of the royal duties awaiting me with the king's return. I lay back in the tub, my golden hair spilling over the edge like a cascade of silk. The room glowed softly with candlelight, the flickering flames casting playful shadows upon the walls. The gentle lapping of water, the whisper of petals, and the sporadic crackling of the fire composed a symphony of calming sounds, coaxing me into tranquil contemplation. With closed eyes, I surrendered to the tide of sensory pleasures. The floral fragrance blended with the steam, forging an ambiance of sheer ecstasy. The weight of my crown and the pressures of my realm faded, if just briefly, as I surrendered to the solace of this secluded haven.
"Oh yes, my lady," Bluebell begins after allowing me time to feel comfortable. I nod, signaling her to proceed. "Regarding the strange man from yesterday," she starts, then pauses, perhaps to give me time to brace for what she's about to reveal, but I remain silent. I do not wish for her news to disrupt the ambiance I'm in. "I heard from another maid that he is actually the king's elder cousin. He is the son of the late king's brother and the captain of the eastern troop. He oversees everything involving the eastern part of the realm, as the king bequeathed it to him on his deathbed. However, it seems the king still retains control, as his cousin does not manage it properly," she concludes.
"Why doesn't he?"
"I heard he completely disagreed with the decision to position him there because he was raised with the expectation of ascending to the throne. Unfortunately for him, the queen gave birth, and his dreams were overshadowed. He believes the east is a significantly smaller part of the kingdom and thus should not be under his command, as it faces less danger than other areas. With all his skills, he feels the palace should not underestimate him to such an extent." he must be the problematic type of cousin.
"I've read a lot about families committing murder to get what they want, especially siblings killing each other for the throne. I just hope he's not one of them. Does the king have any other cousins I should be aware of?" I inquire as she assists me with washing my hair.
"Hmm, it was said that he arrived with two others, my lady. but I'm not sure if they are his brothers or the king's other cousins," she informs me abruptly, but she doesn't stop there and continues, "Yes, my lady, they arrived yesterday, but the king said you would meet them when you wake up."
"And why didn't you wake me up or tell me that people were waiting for me?" I ask, now hastily taking a shower, worried they must be saying things about me. "Why are you smiling? It's not funny," I say, puzzled by her laughter when I am finally trying to do what she has been urging me to do all this time.
"It was the king's order not to wake you up"