I don't know how long I sleep for, but my body is aching when I wake

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

I don't know how long I sleep for, but my body is aching when I wake. My joints pop as I sit up and stretch, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. Alec hasn't moved; his arm still rests on his stomach. I place my hand gently on his forehead. His skin isn't cold and clammy like it was the last day of our journey, nor is it hot and feverish. He feels almost normal.

I don't know if that should make me feel better.

There is a plate of food near the tunnel leading out of the room. My mouth salivates and my stomach rumbles painfully when I see it. I pick up the plate, examining the foreign food it holds. It looks like dark red leather with a side of fruit that has the size and shape of a blueberry, but instead of being blue, it's the color of a raging fire.

"I see that you're awake." The king's voice startles me and I drop the plate. It shatters and food goes everywhere.

"I'm sorry," I say quickly, my cheeks burning. I bend to clean up the mess, but he hands me a new plate with fresh food and bends to clean it up himself. The new plate is filled with the same food as the first. "Don't you have someone to do that for you? Like, servants?"

"I believe that a good king should do things for himself," he says. The plate and the food turn to ashes in his fingers and fall onto the floor to join the heavy layer already covering it. He stands, once again towering over me. I notice he has some dark stubble growing on his chin and above his lip. "What good is he to his people if he expects someone to clean up messes for him? Or to clothe him, or feed him? A good king does everything that his people must, or he will never understand them."

"I wish that human kings thought the way you did," I tell him quietly, some of my fear fading now. "When I was young, my village went hungry for several months. People fought, and a few died—some of hunger, some of violence. All so King Wayland could host an extra extravagant wedding to marry his fifth wife. Those months are my worst memory."

"See? If your king understood hunger, he would not cause it upon others," the King says. I smile a little. He nods at the plate in my hands. "Speaking of hunger."

"I'm starving, but I have no idea what this is," I admit. He chuckles and picks up a piece of the red leathery stuff.

"We call this fondes. It's boiled flame lizard. Delicious." He places it on his tongue and chews, smiling. I resist the urge to gag. "And the fruit is from the fireweed plant. Very spicy."

"I'm sorry, but I don't eat meat." I wrinkle my nose at the plate of food. "But I will try the fireweed fruit."

"Suit yourself," he says, shrugging. He grins as I pop one of the fire berries into my mouth. Heat sears through me, covering my body entirely in invisible flames. But it feels good. I'm suddenly filled with energy and the room becomes significantly brighter. The king notices it too, his grin growing bigger. "Wow. Didn't expect that."

Legend of the White Witch {#Wattys2016}Where stories live. Discover now