Chapter 25 #2
“You’re late, Horia,” a deep voice drawled from across the room where she noticed shadows danced along the tapestry of the wall behind him.
The patterns black and white where she noticed flora of all kinds had been woven into the tapestry, along with a white deer in the center with an arrow protruding from its neck, its fur blood red where it ran down to the edge of the tapestry like a river.
Seated before it, in a leather wingback chair behind a desk, was none other than King ?tefan Amaranth.
He was dressed in the finery befitting someone of his title, dark clothes made from the finest fabric and a fur coat draped over his shoulders.
His silver crown gleamed against the light in the fireplace as it sat proudly atop his short flaxen hair.
His eyes were the same color as Prince Castian’s only they held no light, no warmth, no kindness.
He wasn’t a young man by any means but the honed features on his face, the outline of his brows, and almost bored expression he regarded the physician with gave the impression that he was incredibly dissatisfied by the former’s tardiness.
“M-my apologies your highness!” Horia quickly bowed to his king, motioning for Anelize to do the same. “It was not my intention to be late. You see, Captain Maren has just brought me a new assistant. It has been especially difficult tending to the Watchmen, with so many wounded yesterday.”
The king’s voice was smooth, almost detached in all feeling as he asked, “Captain Maren?”
“Yes, your highness,” Aeric said as he stepped forward and bowed.
“Have you come to report on these rebels that have been running amuck in my kingdom?”
“We are in the process of rounding up the remaining sympathizers in the city,” Aeric drawled, his mask and the cruel smile on his lips making him nearly unrecognizable.
And yet, she knew him.
Knew there was absolutely no pleasure in what he did. The game he played so perfectly.
“Good. I want no trouble to arise during the Senin. You know how important it is,” King Amaranth said, resting his chin atop his fist as he stared Aeric down with those depthless eyes. “The council has thought to ask me to postpone the celebration.”
For a brief moment, Anelize saw the way Aeric tensed at his words. The implication they meant for all of them.
“Is that what you wish to do, your highness?” Aeric asked.
“I see no difference between having the Senin this coming week or any other day. The rebels have dwindled considerably since you and your men have gradually wiped them from the map. Now they have been reduced to mere numbers while we have an army of Watchmen ready to slay them all at the slightest infraction. The raids the council recommended were proof of that, as I’m sure you know.
If there was any cause for concern about the safety of my…
treasures, then surely you would have been the first to announce it to me.
Do I have cause for concern, Captain Maren? ” the king challenged.
Aeric took his time in answering the king, looking as if he were truly weighing the king’s words. Playing the part as he appeared to contemplate the answer with the upmost consideration.
“The rebels, while no longer as strong as they have once been, are still dangerous. Underestimating them would be exactly what they would want. They would take advantage of any opportunity to attack us. They do tend to linger in the shadows, after all. Be it today or on the night of the Senin, it matters not. The Watchmen have trained tirelessly for that day to arrive with great anticipation. Until then, we shall be ready.”
Satisfied with his answer, the king then said, “The Senin has never been postponed, not even on my father’s last year of life did he wish to be pushed aside and forgotten by the very subjects who venerated him after all he’d done for his kingdom before I came to rule.
It is not a tradition I intend on breaking now.
You may continue tending to your duties then, Captain. ”
Being dismissed by the king, Aeric bowed once more and straightened. Casting her one quick glance that screamed for her to be careful before he strode out of the king’s chambers and closed the door behind them.
With Aeric gone, suddenly the room felt entirely too small, and she forced herself to ignore that gnawing feeling that some vital part of herself was missing.
The feeling only lasted so long until King Amaranth shifted his gaze to Horia, a silent command it would seem, as the physician hurried over to the king’s side.
His hands trembling as he quickly reached for a steaming ceramic pot of water that had been left upon the desk beside a single cup sitting upon a saucer.
The king’s eyes met hers and his voice made the physician startle when he asked, “And what is your name, girl?”
“Anya, your highness.”
“Anya,” the king repeated her name in a slow caress that made every inch of her tense. Every word he spoke was pronounced carefully; every syllable and intonation granted the proper space they required to assert his dominance.
Just as she began worrying that he would question her further, the king appeared to have lost interest in her.
Instead, he turned his attention to the physician and motioned toward the steaming pot.
Horia quickly obeyed and uncorked one of the small vials he’d brought with him.
Pouring in the white substance inside the cup he then filled it with the water.
The scent that filled the air within the king’s chambers was unpleasant, distinctive and familiar, though she could not place what the tonic consisted of based on smell alone.
Perhaps she could ask the physician when he returned or look at the jar of herbs she’d seen upon his shelves. If only for the sole sake of discovery.
“Here you are, your highness. Drink up,” Horia said as he offered the cup to the king before quickly backing away.
The king took the cup from Horia and took a long drink from it.
As if the hot water hardly burned his mouth while steam billowed around his face.
From where she stood, she could see his complexion was pallid.
Sickly. Dark circles stained the skin beneath his eyes though they were overshadowed by the stark color of his irises.
So similar to the way his son had looked when she’d first met Castian in the parlor.
Could it be that they were both sick with the same ailment? Or was Aeric right in assuming that the prince was being poisoned all along…
By the time the king placed the cup onto the table, barely mere moments had passed. His attention slowly turned to the white vase of curling red spiked amaranths beside the ceramic pot. Noticing that they were well on their way to wilting, the red petals adorning the surface of the table.
With his cup now empty, he said, “Return within the hour with more.”
Horia hesitated. “Your highness, such high doses for this particular ailment could very well be dangerous—”
“Did I ask you for your diagnosis, Horia?” King ?tefan’s cold words cut through the physician’s own wary advice.
“N-no, sire. Of course not.”
“You, girl. Come take these putrid flowers away. I cannot stand the stench of them,” King Amaranth said as he leaned back in his chair, appearing seemingly exhausted. Motioning with one hand toward the red spiked amaranth sitting within a white vase upon the desk.
Horia nodded for her to obey before she stepped up to him, feeling her heart beating faster in her chest with every step she grew closer to the man who had dedicated his life in annihilating her people.
The king hardly looked at her as she picked up the vase.
A cold, rough hand suddenly gripped her wrist, yanking her to him causing her to drop the vase onto the ground.
The sound of glass shattering filled the room, water splashed across the ebony tiles and amaranths pooled around her feet in a swirling mess of crimson.
The king’s eyes appeared almost frantic as he brought her hands close so that he could inspect her palms. His grip turning into a vice around her wrists.
“No scars. Not even a nick,” the king murmured before he slowly released her—too slowly.
She sent a silent feeling of gratitude to Adan for teaching her to drop her foolish ways of cutting her palms to conjure, now more than ever.
Doing so could have cost her life all within mere moments of arriving to the castle.
The king’s expression returned to one of sheer boredom as he sat back in his chair and rested his chin atop his fist. “Leave me. Do not disturb me until it is time for the next vial.”
“Yes, sire.” Horia quickly hurried to Anelize and pulled her toward the doors. Sharing in her need to leave the presence of the king in equal measure it would seem for as soon as they closed the doors behind them, Horia’s face was covered in sweat.
“Forgive me, Miss,” the physician stammered as he retrieved a handkerchief from the pocket of his pants, patting at his face.
“I do not do well when it comes to paying visits to the king. Best thing you can do is try to stay calm when he makes his demands. Which, all things considered, you did. Come along now.” Horia beckoned her to follow him with a weak smile before he scurried down the hall.
As he disappeared, Anelize slowly glance back toward the door before meeting Adan’s sharp questioning gaze as he took her in. As if already sensing that the king had done something to her. When his eyes went to her wrists, they appeared to grow darker.
Releasing a breath, she turned and followed after the physician before he came back searching for her. As she walked away, she glanced down to her wrists where the skin was already mottled with bruises.