The Raven Lord | Book I

XXIV. The Battle

I shivered in the basin of the tub, my knees tucked tightly against my chest as the two handmaids tugged at my arms, brushes scraping against my bare skin. 

That morning I had been called from my cell and stuffed into a bathing room without so much as a word uttered as to why. Although, I had my guesses. 

My wounds were cleaned and dressed, one of my attendants exclaiming that I had a fever due to infection. I had only asked if their guests were usually treated as such. Pried from the tub, I was then stuffed into an even smaller room where a ruby gown had been set out along with matching shoes. 

"I'm to wear this?" I asked as a handmaid steered me toward it. 

She nodded once. "The King's request, Miss."

"I will not," I said. I was not going to be his play thing, and I certainly would not be persuaded with jewels and dresses. 

"But-"

I put up a hand to the wiry girl in front of me, "Pants and a shirt will be just fine."

"You are to dine with the king, Miss. Will you not wear it to dinner?"

I glared at her for a moment before she was scrambling away to find new clothing. When she came back with simple linen pants and a matching top, she bowed low before leaving me to change. 

After I had finished, I was thrown into a chair where two older looking women plaited my hair back. One moved to remove the pendant from my neck but I told her not to, that I wanted to wear it. She gave me an exasperated look before nodding and leading me out of the room.

The king's dining chamber was far from what I had envisioned: a quaint, plush room, with wide windows which overlooked the foothills leading toward Marwol and the bay beyond. Seated at a mahogany table for two, was the king.  

"Ah, so my guest decides to join me!" The king stood, his eyes locked onto me. When I stayed by the door, he fanned his hand out, saying, "Please, sit."

"Where's your queen?" I asked, moving toward the chair opposite the Mortal King. 

He frowned. "Lavinia is always up to something," he waved his hand in dismissal. "She will not be joining us this evening." 

As I sat, my hand moved to the pendent at my breast, carefully concealed beneath my clothing. It held a sort of weight and heat that I could not explain. And if Amner caught me with his wife's necklace, I was sure he would not react within reason. 

"Why have you called me here," I asked, my expression turning to stone. 

The king leaned back in his chair, his muddy eyes meeting mine. With a flick of his wrist, servants were rushing in with stews, meats, bread, and other dishes far more extravagant than was needed for two people. My stomach turned. Hunger was a familiar feeling by now, but the thought of eating this man's food was enough for me to learn to welcome the hallow feeling. 

Still, the king did not reply as he spooned a chicken breast onto his plate and began to pull it apart. 

Finally, he spoke. "Tell me your story." 

I went stiff at the words which Lex had once so similarly said to me. 

"I cannot."

"Why?" The king tore into a slice of bread, scraping more food onto his plate. 

"My past is not something I rejoice in recalling." 

He barked a laugh. "If it's pain you're running from, Miss Whitlock, you won't get very far."