by Amber Jaeger
“What happened then?”
Calia saw the muscles in his jaw bunch and his hands tightened on the arms of his chair. “She became pregnant. She was little more than a child, a tiny thing and he was a brutish beast, much larger than even my father. She died in labor.” He turned his face towards Calia and she could almost make his eyes out from under the hooded lids of the mask. “I loved my sister very much. She cared for me in much the same way that my mother did.”
He turned back towards the fire and took a long drink of wine. “I had just turned twelve and already my heart was a stone in my chest. My father began trying to teach me everything there was to know about being a successful king and I ignored him or rebelled at every turn. I hated him and everything he stood for. Thankfully he was usually too busy to notice my disdain or lack of character. But as I grew older it grew worse. I threw parties, drank too much, got into fights and had more lady friends than I could count.”
Calia shifted uncomfortably at that but he did not seem to notice.
“I knew he was growing tired of my childish antics but I did not care. Why should I have? So I could grow up to abandon my spouse and send my children to a purgatory? No. So instead I partied and reveled and everyone liked me because I was just so much fun,” he said in a tired, bitter voice.
“What happened?” Calia whispered.
“He left to meet with a neighboring kingdom and I threw a party to top all the other parties. Everyone was invited. The castle, the old castle, was filled to the brim. Wine literally flowed and we celebrated whatever it was we celebrating until well into the night.” He leaned forward in his chair and rubbed at his temples. Calia wondered how many times he had had to tell his painful story. After a moment he continued. “I never figured out how the fire started but when it sparked it spread in an instant. The old castle had been built mostly of wood. It was much smaller than this one but was filled to the brim with people. Most everyone was so drunk they could not have found their way out of a barrel.”
“Did they all die?” Calia whispered.
“Not all but a lot. There were members of our elitist families, our staff and villagers. It seemed every family was touched by death, except for mine of course. My father was away when I threw the party and obviously I did not die.’
‘When he returned and saw how I had laid to waste everything he had worked so hard to build he was devastated. His kingdom was not just riches and a castle. He truly was a leader to our people and I knew he was heartbroken to have lost so many of them. But he was also very, very angry. As his only heir, he could not have me killed or imprisoned and he could not leave his kingdom to anyone but me.”
Calia bit her lip. “So he cursed you?”
The king nodded. “Back then there was much more magic in the land. He paid a wise old woman a small fortune for her services. So yes, he had me cursed with immortality. But first he had me bound to this land and to my role as king. I can never die and I can never leave. He knew I would never strive to be the leader he was because it wasn’t in my best interest. But if I was bound, and had to live here forever…”
Calia shook her head. “So if you had let everything go to ruins you would have been stuck in ruins?”
“Yes. His way of making sure I would be the best king I could be was to make sure I had to live with all the consequences of my actions. Forever.”
“But all curses have cures, do they not? I mean, you run things pretty well around here. Maybe if you become a good enough king the curse will break?”
He rolled his head back over to face her. “And how could I possibly improve on the land and lives of my subjects?”
“Perhaps you could not enslave some of them,” Calia hinted.
“Is that how it feels to you?” he asked.
She hesitated. “Sometimes. Not always. But that’s what this is, isn’t it?”
The king sighed. “I take in the people who are the least wanted in the town, or who want to be there the least, and give them a home, a purpose. I put a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. In order to run this country I need to have absolutely loyal servants. I think that’s very little to ask of my people in exchange for freedom from war and famine.”
“I have no freedom, I can never leave,” Calia said bluntly.
“You will come to feel differently,” he promised her.
She did not think so.
“So that is my story,” he said and gulped down the last of his wine.
“Wait, that cannot be all. How is the curse broken? If not by realizing your mistakes and correcting them, then how? True love?”
The king waved a hand and gave a rueful grin. “I’ve tried that—several times. It definitely doesn’t work.”
Calia rolled her eyes. “Somehow I think if you tried ‘true’ love several times none of them could have been very true.”
The king laughed but it died quickly. “There is no breaking this curse. And truly, I’ve gotten used to it. I have a meaningful job, a purpose, a roof over my own head.”
She looked at him doubtfully. “You do not have your freedom either,” she finally said.
“Correct. And it took me a while, but I finally realized it wasn’t such as an important thing as I thought.” He stood from his chair just as the tenth bell sounded. “And now, if you will excuse me.”
“Of course,” Calia murmured. She wished she had something comforting to say but could think of nothing. All she had were more questions.
She walked over to her room as if in a fog and shut the door before leaning back against it. She felt so sad for her king. She thought about his sister and mother and wondered if he had loved them as much as she had loved her father.
She thought about all the people that had died in the fire and wondered about the king. Perhaps what she had thought to be merely coldness was something more; perhaps it was grief and consuming guilt. If she had been able to see his face while he told his story maybe she would have been able to tell. Her thoughts drifted and Calia wondered if one day she would be allowed to see his face and what it looked like. She wondered if it was as handsome as the rest of him.
A noise in the hallway caught her attention and she pressed an ear against the door. She heard the king’s door snick shut and she eased her own open to peek her head out. The king was walking down the hall with a thick towel roped over his shoulders. Curiosity burned but she ducked back into her room before she was caught spying.
Calia crawled into her bed but could not get comfortable. She tried to imagine living forever, cursed, immortal, a king, but could not. Surely there was a way to break the curse. As she finally drifted off she promised herself she would help him find a way.
Chapter Ten
In the morning she knocked hesitantly on his door. There was no answer as usual so she slowly pushed it open.
She inched towards the king and carefully set his tray down. The silence was uncomfortable and she struggled to find something to say that would convey her sympathy. She bit her lip and shifted from foot to foot. His mask sparked in the morning light and caught her eye.
The king looked up to find her staring at him. “Is there a problem?”
She shook her head, mouth dry. “No. I just wanted to say…I don’t think you are so bad.”
One corner of his mouth twitched up for a second. “I don’t care how you feel about me one way or the other but I will thank you for your kind sentiments all the same.”
Calia nodded stupidly and stood at his desk until he took a small amount of pity on her.
“Fine. Then we will meet the king in the throne room and hear out his request.” He looked up again, taking her in. She had fixed her hair and selected her second favorite gown. The Cold King nodded his approval and stood.
Like the previous day she followed him like a severe
ghost. In the throne room he picked up one silver tray with a perfect rose on it and instructed her to carry it. “But I thought—” she gasped.
He shook his head as the doors opened.
King William swept in merrily but Calia could see the dark rings under his eyes and the slight way his fingers shook. He grinned at her king before bowing and Calia wondered that his nose could appear even redder than it had the night before.
He rose, a little unsteadily, and his eyes caught on the silver tray Calia held. They grew bright and he flashed a smile over his shoulder to his younger daughter. She answered with her own vicious twist of the lips and stood straighter to force her barely concealed chest out further.
Calia tamped down a sudden burst of fury. How dare they think her king would be won over to some ridiculous marriage scheme because of a tasteless dress worn by a crass girl! She glanced down at the rose she held and grimaced. Well, she did not think he would be.
“King Valanka, I trust you slept well?” King William asked.
“I did,” the Cold King rumbled. “Please forgive me, but I wish to see you off before poor weather sets in. What is it you wished to see me about?”
The man’s grin widened and he beckoned his harlot of a daughter to come stand at his side. “My king, you must know of the immense respect I have for you as a man and as a ruler. I too strive to provide the best for my country and also my family. I feel a strong connection to you and your land and believe you feel it as well. That is why I wish to join our two kingdoms and offer to seal them with the offer of my daughter’s hand.” He swooped down into another ridiculous bow and his daughter curtsied, making sure the Cold King got a perfect view of her overflowing cleavage.
Calia held her breath. A union with this girl could make her personal life hell and she had no idea what political ramifications it could have for her people. Thankfully the Cold King did.
“As flattering as your offer is, I must decline.” Calia winced at the cold, flat tone of his voice but was glad. The lesser king was not. She watched as the red in his nose bloomed out over his cheeks and down his neck.
“Surely you can see how advantageous this arrangement could be?”
“To you? Yes. To me and my kingdom, a hundred times no. Dealing with your little minx of a daughter would be a chore I would wish on no man. And you have brought nothing but poverty and war to your people. I would never risk infecting my kingdom with such vile things.”
The king puffed and huffed and his daughter first tried fake crying then desperate sobs before quickly turning to seething silence. Throughout the whole thing the eldest daughter stood stoically and kept her eyes on a point above all their heads. Calia felt badly for her. She could not imagine such a terrible existence with family like that.
King William flung his hand out to point at Calia. “Then why the rose?” he thundered.
“Oh, that?” the Cold King asked lightly. “That’s just because I think it’s pretty.”
“The rose or the girl?” the younger daughter sneered. “Have you no need for a real wife when you can roll in the hay with that little strumpet whenever you like? I bet you can command her to do things no real woman would submit to!”
Calia gasped and nearly dropped the tray. Her face quickly grew to an ugly shade of red and tears pricked her eyes. Of all the horrid things that had ever been said about her, that had to be the worst.
The Cold King stilled so perfectly Calia wondered if he was even breathing. Then he slowly stood to his full height and stepped down the carpeted stairs. The weaker king wobbled slightly but did not back away.
“Take your awful daughter and leave. Never return here again.” They all heard the warning in his deadly tone and Calia was grateful for it.
With a tight, grim smile the oldest daughter turned and left and after a moment her pouty, foot stomping sister followed. Their father swallowed hard a few times, as if trying to think of something to say before finally turning and leaving as well.
The king did not turn to face Calia when he spoke. “You know I would never ask those sorts of things of you.”
She nodded before remembering he could not see her. She cleared her throat. “I do.”
“And you know I would never think you would oblige such things.”
Calia wiped her tears away. “I do.”
“Good. Then we both know where you stand.”
He finally turned to look at her. “You mustn’t let others get to you so much. You need to be stronger, grow a thicker skin. Stop crying so much.”
Calia nodded but did not see how that was possible.
The Cold King sighed. “Come, I still have work to do and my treasures aren’t going to dust themselves.”
The weeks that passed after that were quiet, peaceful ones. As Calia grew more comfortable in her role she needed less direction from the king and began to do things more freely. One day she finally entered his personal sleeping chamber and found it to be in shambles. The bed clothes were twisted and lumped together in the middle of the mattress and in dire need of changing. The floor was filthy and dust covered everything, including the drapes. It was dark and depressing and Calia slowly backed out.
“My King,” she called.
He looked up from his desk.
“Why is your sleeping chamber in such disarray? Why have you not asked me to clean it?”
He watched her for a moment before answering. “I thought you would find it improper.”
A little laugh burst out before she could stifle it. “It’s just a bedchamber. Assuming I’ll be cleaning it during the day while it’s unoccupied I cannot see anything improper in that.”
He gave a little nod but still watched her warily.
“Would you like me to clean it now?” she hinted.
The king gave a little sigh of relief. “I would like that very much.”
Calia shook her head in amusement. If the mess had bothered him so much he could have just ordered her to clean it.
As she dragged the dirty bed clothes out and began dusting and wiping and mopping, she thought. He was such an unusual man. He had lived in a dusty, untidy bedchamber for fear she would be uncomfortable but had no qualms about taking her freedom.
She slowed to a stop as she knelt on the wet tiles.
He was trying.
The entire situation was ideal for no one and yet he was trying, for her sake.
Calia thought back and tried to remember a time anyone had been so considerate of her feelings and could think of none before she came to the palace. Saddened but uplifted, she returned to her cleaning and was glad for the smile on her king’s face when he saw his fresh, clean room.
“Thank you, Calia,” he murmured.
It continued on like that, her doing something nice for him and him returning the favor with kindness. It wasn’t friendship and her fear never fully abated but it was something warm and comfortable and Calia began to appreciate her new life and home despite mourning her freedom. The more she thought about it the more she could not think of what she would do with it anyway. Go home to be her mother’s slave and not treated half so well? Go out into the world, a penniless woman traveler?
Both ideas seemed wretched compared to living in luxury and serving a cold king in the simple ways he commanded. Over time it grew to a point the Calia felt there was nowhere else in the world she wanted to be and could not ever imagine leaving her new home. She threw herself into her tasks, into her new friendships with other servants and into her time with the king.
The most surprising result of her joyful efforts was that she finally managed to replicate the complicated silk shirts his previous servants had sewn for him. When she finally held the perfect garment in her hands she almost couldn’t believe it. She inspected every seam, every button, searched all the fabric for a
ny loose threads before finally presenting it him.
Calia stood in front of his desk with the shirt folded in her outstretched hands and waited for him to notice. He eventually looked up and took in her goofy grin. “Did you finally manage it?” he asked.
“I think so. Here! Try it on.” She prayed the fit was right and twisted her hands together while he inspected the shirt.
“It looks fine,” he said doubtfully before walking over to the mirrors near his dressing area.
Calia followed and he turned sharply. “A little privacy, if you please.”
Calia’s cheeks flushed. “Of course. I wasn’t trying to… I’ll be just outside.”
She waited in the hallway, full of self-loathing. He thought she was trying to watch him… She slapped her hands to her face and tried to shake away the embarrassment.
“Come,” he finally called. She took a steadying breath and opened the door.
The Cold King looked exactly the same except for a small smile. “It’s perfect,” he said. “Well done.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He watched her for a moment. “I think you deserve a reward.”
Calia shook her head. “Oh no, you have given me too much already.”
“I meant something I cannot pull out of my vault or pay for with gold.” He rubbed a hand along his perfect jaw. “I think you are due for a visit to your family.”
Calia’s stomach turned in on itself. “Oh no, I do not think that’s necessary.”
The king took her by the shoulders and squeezed. “You are too selfless, Calia. Even servants deserve a break. I will be fine without you for a few days and you can assure your family you are well.”