The Cold King

by Amber Jaeger

  Shaken and horrified, Iago gathered his things and left to report to the king.

  Valanka looked up when he entered. “How is she?”

  Iago opened his mouth to give report but the anger in him burned over. He was in front of the king’s desk in two strides and slammed his bag onto it. “She is completely broken, physically and emotionally. I can only pray her spirit is intact and she can rise above this!” Spittle flew from his lips and landed on the king’s mask.

  Valanka sat back in his chair. “How do you mean?”

  Iago threw his hands up into the air and shouted, “Could you for one moment stop being so damned cold? Don’t you care for her at all?”

  The king opened his mouth and Iago cut him off. “No, you wanted to know how she is so I will tell you. The cut she sustained from the broken glass has torn open and will have to begin healing again. She has rope burns on her wrists and ankles that are completely raw in some places. She is covered in bruises, her face and neck are scratched and when I cleaned the wound to her head I found several spots where her hair was clean ripped out. Those and the scratches are from running through the woods at night, away from her attackers.”

  “So that part is true?”

  “It is. And you didn’t believe her.”

  The king shook his head guiltily. “I did not.”

  “So you thought she purposely inflicted all those injuries herself? Why?” His hands were clenched into shaking fists at his side.

  “To see me without my mask on, of course,” he said uncomfortably.

  “I think she already knows what you truly look like—a monster.”

  Valanka looked up at that. “She knows now, she achieved her purpose.”

  “No, damn it! She came to you for help and threw her into hellish circumstances for it. That’s what makes you a monster, not the scars on your face.”

  The king stood slowly from his chair. “She told you?”

  “No.” He could tell the king didn’t believe him. “I am a healer. I see what ointments are missing from my stocks, I know you swim in the salt water pool daily for relief, I can hear the splashing from my window.”

  “I see. Does everyone know?”

  “If they figured it out, they do not speak of it.” He snatched his bag from the desk and made for the door.

  “Iago,” came the pained cry. “What do I do?”

  Iago looked over his shoulder. “The right thing. And if you do not already know what it is, I cannot help you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was nearly dusk before the king mustered the courage to knock on Calia’s door. She didn’t answer so he pushed it open gently with his eyes on the ground.

  “Calia, are you well?”

  He heard a snort come from the couch and saw her there, wrapped in a blanket. The fire was blazing, casting eerie shadows across her battered face. “What do you want?”

  The king went to sit in the chair next to the couch and tried to take her hand. She snatched it away before he could touch her. “I said, what do you want?” she growled.

  Unsure of what to do with his empty hands, he folded them in his lap. “I was hoping I could speak with you.”

  She finally looked at him and the firelight dancing across his face made the demon mask blaze. “Take it off,” she said.

  The king cocked his head, sending more glares of light flying. “Excuse me?”

  “Take it off or get out.” Her voice held no compromise.

  The king rubbed a finger along the edge of his mask. “Calia,” he said quietly, “I can’t.”

  She stood from the couch in one fluid motion and her blanket fell away, revealing the snow white shirt she wore. The dark bruise on her hip stood out in contrast to its blindingly bright hem.

  “Then get out.”

  “Please, let me say what I need to.”

  “I am tired of the Cold King. Speak to me as the man I thought you were or not at all.”

  He shook his head and she launched herself at him with no care for avoiding more injury to herself. The chair flipped over with him in it and he wrapped his arms around Calia, protecting her as they both fell to the floor. On the way down the edge of the table caught the edge of his mask and it went skittering away.

  He sat up quickly, pulling the girl upright in his lap. “Are you all right?” he asked franticly, searching her for a new injury.

  She gave a small, smug smile. “I am fine. I will even permit you to speak to me now.”

  He reached a hand up and felt smooth, twisted flesh instead of his cold mask and dropped his head in an attempt to hide his face. “Please do not look upon me,” he begged.

  Calia let her eyes linger for a moment before sighing. To his intense surprise, she leaned against his chest and tucked her head under his chin. “You have two minutes.”

  He rumbled with laughter. “I think it will take me much longer than that to apologize for everything I have done to you.” She said nothing and he continued. “I’m not a good man, Calia. I’m vain and insecure but also very powerful. It’s not a good combination and I’m afraid you have suffered for it. I should never have sent you away, I should have never locked you in the dungeon, either time. And I should have listened to you that night beside the pool.” Tentatively he wrapped his arms around her slight frame and was encouraged when she didn’t stop him. “I’m so very sorry for the pain I have caused you.”

  The silence was uncomfortable while he waited for her response. Finally she asked, “Is that all?”

  “I… I am sure I have many other things to apologize for and I will make it up to you.”

  “And is that all?” she asked again.

  “I won’t do it again?”

  Calia pushed away from him and stood up. Bewildered, the king tried to look anywhere but at the long bare legs in front of him. “Then I suppose that will have to do. You are forgiven, now please get out, I need my rest.”

  He stood slowly, trying to sort out his emotions. Calia wouldn’t look at him so he couldn’t read her face. “Please, that cannot be all.”

  She shrugged, still not facing him. “You just said it was.”

  “That wasn’t how I meant,” he pleaded. “Please, look at me.”

  “You told me not to,” she reminded him harshly.

  He gasped and turned his back, shielding his face with his hand. He had forgotten the mask had fallen off and now he didn’t see it anywhere.

  Calia stalked over to the door and threw it open. “Either you face me as a man or not at all. I will return to my duties in the morning. Now please, leave.”

  Confused and defeated, the king left. He searched out a new mask as soon as he entered his rooms but ended up just sitting in front of his fireplace with it in his hands. He got very little sleep that night.

  Cali didn’t sleep well either. She kept thinking of his apology, of the way it felt in his arms, of the words he didn’t say. She contemplated her future and it seemed very bleak indeed. She was not welcome in her mother’s home, she was not safe in town and the thought of spending the rest of her life as a servant to the man she loved but did not love her back made her stomach twist painfully.

  When morning came she awoke in fresh pain. A night in the soft bed had seemed to only intensify her soreness and it was all she could do to pull the covers back under her chin. Distantly she heard the gates of the courtyard open but was quickly swept back into an anguished sleep.

  The sun woke her again and she squinted against the harsh glare coming in her window. More noise, voices, were coming from the courtyard and her curiosity won out over her pain. Stiff and sore, she hobbled over to her window to look out.

  Down below she watched a small group of young women climb into the carriage before it took off for town.


  “So that is how it is,” she whispered to herself. She had known the king probably wouldn’t want her as his personal servant any longer. What she hadn’t expected was that he would conduct interviews to find one. She wondered what new girl he would pick, if she would be the opposite of her.

  No one came to her room that afternoon and she didn’t leave it. At one point she watched the Cold King climb into the carriage and leave for town. Calia wondered if he would be bringing his new servant back. She wondered if she would be banished or locked in the dungeon.

  Grief and pain worked against her until she finally surrendered and climbed back into bed. Even her wandering thoughts weren’t enough to keep her from sleep.

  Morning came again and she met it gravely. For the time being, she was still his personal servant and out of sheer stubbornness, she would behave as such. Curiosity also pushed her on. What would he say to her? What would happen to her?

  In the bathing room she woodenly prepared herself. There was nothing to be done about the scratches on her face but she fixed her hair and dressed in the simplest gown in her wardrobe, a soft blue one.

  With grim determination she knocked on the king’s door just as the sun was rising but there was no response. Curious, she opened it anyway and found the rooms empty. Finally she remembered he had taken to eating in the formal dining room and set off for it with a sigh.

  She barely held in her shocked gasped when she entered. The king sat at the table, his breakfast before him and a sheaf of paper in one hand. He had no mask on. The morning light was not kind to his scars but neither were they as terrible as he had always thought.

  Sensing her gaze on him, the king looked up. “Calia,” he said softly, rising from his chair. “Would you care to eat with me?”

  She forced a smile and sat. His discomfort was obvious but sedated. “You look well this morning, my king.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I suspect I look about as well as you do.”

  She laughed and touched the dark goose egg at her temple she was unable to hide.

  “We make quite the pair,” he said softly.

  “Would you like more tea?” Abelina asked, interrupting them. Pure joy shone from her eyes.

  When she left Calia picked at her food. “Was it very difficult, coming down this morning?”

  The king rubbed his jaw. “It was. I had thought all my servants would run screaming from the castle in revulsion. But I must say, they surprised me.”

  “How so?”

  He gave a faint smile. “Iago handed me a jar of the cream I’ve been pilfering from his stores. Abelina hugged me and kissed my check and Klaribel…” He shook his head. “She undid the top half of her shirt to show me a terrible scar she received when a horse bit her. She seemed to consider it a source of pride.”

  Calia laughed. “I’m sure she did.”

  As they finished their tea the king said, “I have some business to attend to this morning and I will need your help.”

  “At your assistance,” she replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  “I am afraid it is quite unpleasant and I do apologize, but it must be done.” His voice wasn’t cold at all, but very soft. Calia looked up in surprise and he didn’t flinch away from her gaze on his face.

  “If you’ll follow me?” he finally asked, standing up from the table.

  She nodded mutely.

  Calia tried to walk two steps behind him and to his right but he slowed and took her hand, folding it into his elbow.

  Marchello met them at the doors to the throne room and bowed as they entered. Confused, Calia tried again to attain the proper distance from the king but he wouldn’t let go of her hand.

  More startling than his behavior was the small, ornately carved chair setting next to the throne. The king led her to it. “Please, sit.”

  “I can’t sit here,” she protested.

  “Please,” he asked quietly.

  Confused and shaken, she sat and the king sat beside her.

  A second later Marchello ushered in the two men Calia feared most—Delmar and Durand. The brothers swaggered in, their faces lit with twin, false grins. They faltered for a second, seeing Calia but then swept into low bows.

  When they rose there was no hint of fear or anger, just the cheerful, bland expressions they always wore when lying.

  “Do you know why you are here today?” the king asked, his voice cold and low.

  “I’m afraid we don’t, Your Majesty,” Durand answered. His eyes flickered to Calia for only a second.

  “And you?” the king asked Delmar.

  “No, Your Majesty.”

  “You are here for the crimes against the young women in your village.” His voice rose the tiniest bit and Calia shivered.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking—”

  “Be silent!” the king shouted. “You will not lie to me, you will not be insolent. I know of each and every one of your transgressions. I have spoken with countless young women and heard the tales of the terrible crimes you committed against them.” He leaned forward and the brothers shrank back. “I know what you did to my servant.”

  Calia’s heart thrummed in her chest. He finally believed her.

  “Your Majesty, I assure you these are false tales from bitter harpies. I’m sure you must know my brother and I are much sought after as marriage material. We can’t help it that none of the young women in the village are to our mother’s liking. We don’t mean to offend anyone, but I swear, you give a girl a smile and they think you’re betrothed!” Delmar ended his lie with a chuckle.

  The king was not amused. “You have both harassed, assaulted, beaten, kidnapped and raped. I have all the proof I need.”

  Durant’s innocent façade slid off like water. “So what? We are to be banished?”

  “So that you can wander over to the next village and continue perpetrating your evil? I think not. The punishment is death.”

  Both of their faces paled but the king continued speaking. “It is no less than you deserve. I have seen firsthand the pain you have wrought on innocent people. But I will give you a choice.”

  Confused but grateful, they fell over themselves to thank the king. “Yes, Your Majesty, whatever punishment you see fit.”

  Valanka gave a cold smile. “Fine. Then the mines shall be your dungeon until your death. You will go from here to there and never leave them. Every day you shall work and the money you earn will be turned over to your victims. Say goodbye to the sun, for you will never see it again.”

  Too shocked to argue, the brothers let themselves be led away by Marchello. When they were out of the room, the king turned to Calia.

  “I am sorry I didn’t believe you.”

  She rubbed a thumb along the smooth arm of the chair but didn’t look up to meet his eyes. “Why do you believe me now?”

  “Iago brought me to my senses,” he said bluntly. “And when I realized they had so brazenly assaulted you, I also realized they must have started with smaller crimes.”

  “The girls you brought to the castle?” she asked suddenly. “You were asking them about Delmar and Durant?”

  He nodded sadly. “Yes, and they had many terrible things to tell me. I fear I have not been a very good king to allow such things to go on in my own village.”

  Calia blanched as realized the suffering other girls must have endured.

  The king knelt in front of her. “I apologize for having you witness this, but I thought it was important for you to see they were punished—that I believe you.”

  She nodded numbly and he pulled her up from the chair. “You are not well. Please, forgive me.”

  Her head swam as he led her back to the dining room. The chair he set her in was much more comfortable than t
he ornate one in the throne room and she settled into it with a little sigh. The king poured a fresh cup of tea and added a generous splash of brandy before pressing it into her hands.

  The drink settled her nerves and the king smiled as the color came back into her cheeks. Finally he said, “I have a little more business for us to attend to, but much more pleasant, I promise. Are you well enough to assist me?”

  Calia nodded, not trusting her voice.

  When Abelina came to gather the dishes the king spoke. “Would you please fetch Marchello? I have something I need to discuss with you both.”

  “Of course,” she murmured, curiosity in her eyes. When she went to fetch the butler, the king took a heavy box he had set on a chair and brought it to the table. He pulled out papers and arranged them in neat stacks.

  “What do you need me to do?” Calia asked.

  “Sit and watch,” was his only reply.

  Marchello and Abelina entered, confusion clear on their faces. The king stood and gestured to the two chairs in front of him. “Please, sit.”

  They cast a look over at Calia but she just shrugged her shoulders.

  “First, I would like to thank you for your many years of loyal service.” Abelina opened her mouth but the king held his hand up. “And second, I would like to apologize for never giving you a choice in the matter.” He pulled two large leather bags from the box and set one in front of each of them. “This is payment for your forced servitude, four gold coins for each month and a large bonus. I hope you will find that acceptable.”