Emigre : The King and a Kiss

Chapter 21: A trip to the town

Katarina

Yesterday night was magical. I smiled at the memory and continued cleaning the windows in the king's study. It seems that the king is not himself that night or did I just witness some goodness in his façade. I wonder if he's not what he seems to be. I put the rag and turned my attention to the papers scattered in his study table. It was filled with state papers, letters of approval, and letters of invitation from royalties. I tried to organize the towering papers when I caught sight of a pink envelope, it smelled sweet like vanilla and then I felt a tinge of jealousy from the words etched on it.

"Carissa"

Is she close with the king? Maybe she was his lover or a mistress. I put the envelop back to where I saw it and shifted my gaze to the painting of the king when he was yet a child. He had an angelic face contrary to his present devilish face, I touched it and caressed the smoothness of the painting.

"Don't touch that!" a loud voice echoed inside the room.

I quickly turned and saw the king looking crossed .

"Don't touch it with your filthy hands." He approached me and I took a step back.

"I-I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry what?" he spat at me.

"I looked at his eyes but then shifted away.

"I'm sorry, your majesty."

He eyed me from top to bottom, "It seemed that you are forgetting your place. Even though I danced with you last night that doesn't change the fact that you're still a slave."

I shot him my deadly stare, "Fine your grace, I will not touch that ludicrous painting of yours or even yourself!"

I tried to walk away but his figure towered over me. A smirk came off his face. "can you even resist touching me? If I recall last time, you were putting your lips to mine."

I exasperated at his comment, "Be glad my king for I will never touch you again! If you excuse me!" I pushed him and started to walk away when he spun me around and I was being held in his arms.

"unhand me!" I squirmed fervently from his hold but to no avail.

He tightened his grasp and laughed, "you look red as a beet!"

"I said unhand me now or I-"

"or what?" his grin was never fading.

"I hate you! You- egotistical, half-brained, perverted, bastard king you are!" I was fuming with anger that my tears began to well up and I was punching his chest with my hands.

"I could punish you from insulting me like that." He spoke in a very soft voice.

"I know." I let out a sob and then my eyes grew wide when he let my head rest on his chest.

We stood there like that for a minute. Why do I feel tortured yet comforted by this act. He was very harsh then very sweet for a second. He was confusing me for what he really was. He burned and conquered my land. He attempted to kill my father, he even treated me and other people wickedly. How could he be so mean and yet when he hold me, he was gentle. It was as if he knew how to be kind.

"you smell like vanilla. Did you perhaps touch something on my desk?"

"yes, I was arranging some papers and I caught sight of a pink envelope."

"and did you opened it?"

"no of course! Why would I ?" I gave him an annoyed look.

He laughed. "okay then but why do you look crossed?"