The feared Crimson King

19. A familiar face

Sitting on the bed I try to remember. I remember laughing. I feel sick, so I get up, lift up my blanket and curl up underneath it.

I focus on remembering things that happened, and fall asleep in the process.

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There's a knock on the door. I turn to the side, but another knock confirms that someone is at the door and it's not just my imagination.

It is the King, who's seemingly normal, telling me to get ready for the second courting.

I crawl out of bed, look for something to wear and head towards the bathroom to get dressed and ready.

My stomach churns, and I feel sick again. I clean my body with a cloth and comb my hair with a brush I found in a cupboard.

While I stroke my locks straight, memories of last night flow through my head.

I remember laughing and giggling, and how he smirked at me. I remember being dizzy and walking through the castle, and I remember feeling safe and warm. Not warmth as in being warm, but a warmth one feels when coming home after a long time away, or when an accomplishment is made, followed by praise. It felt like comfort.

I look at my reflection, could it have been the evil King who gave me that warmth? Just thinking about him makes the word evil now seem so far from his very being. Maybe he truly isn't the monster he's made out to be.

I put down the brush and make my way to the door, which I pull open, only to have the King already stand there. Patience is not one of his best qualities.

"We need to get going." His broad shoulders are covered in only the finest fabrics, and a long majestic mantle perfectly traces down his back. But something is off. Something that's been annoying me since I met him.

"You should smile more," I mumble.
It wasn't my intention to speak it out loud but there is was. Subtle, but it was there.

A slight smirk struck his lips and made my head spin.
"You never cease to surprise me," he says and holds out his arm.

Being so used to hooking into my fathers or brothers arm I do so by the Kings arm. He looks down at me and I look up at him. We're both surprised by our actions. I quickly look away and so does the King visibly embarrassed.

Why does this feel more comfortable than I thought. He guides me towards the throne room without another word.

Once we arrive I stand in my usual spot,  sideways behind the throne, where Theodore takes his seat.

Today, seems to be going by even slower than yesterday. The speaker has announced that today will be the final courting, meaning that after today no one should have to suffer any longer. This courting will be about Lyrian soldiers, but King Theodore is a smart man.

I hope I am right that he will offer them all to swear their loyalty to him and spare them. Maybe he'll even have them fight for him.

A soldier could never be of use in a dungeon.

My mind takes me back to last night. Why are my thoughts so captivated by this one night. If only I could remember...

Soon the national work is done and a crowd of people, once again chained together are brought before the King. There are two differences to yesterday's crowd. The first being that this crowd only consists of men, and the second being their condition.

I thought yesterday's peasants looked bad, but these people were truly mistreated. Most of them thin to the bone, wounds and dry blood covering their bodies. Some so far from what a healthy human looked like, it was a miracle they were alive and breathing, let alone having been able to walk into the throne room.

I look down at my feet and silently speak a small prayer for these people.

"Lyrian soldiers, sit and bow before you my King!" The speaker announces. "They've not been worthy of your previous kindness of letting them live, for their sins are unforgivable."
The speaker looks down at my people in disgust. The King listens while looking at all of them singly.

The speaker clears his throat and goes on once he realizes the King isn't going to say anything. "The charges are as following: violence towards, and the murder of Walzenorian soldiers!"

I try to block out the speakers accusations, as I look around the crowd. A pair of blood shot eyes look straight at me. A man with a grey beard and a bloodied scalp is staring right into my soul. My eyes shoot open. I couldn't believe my eyes, it was General Otis. Memories of his close friendship to my father flood my mind. He was at every feast my father threw and I've known him ever since I've been a wee little princess.

He was always kind and often brought gifts for me and my brother Pacival.

He no longer looks like the slightly chubby, smiling man I once knew. The only thing making me certain it was him where his oak colored eyes and his large nose.

"I've heard enough." The King  interrupts the speaker, who hasn't stopped talking.