Vetta arrived at the palace going straight to the training ground, knowing that the king would be there training the young warriors.
Indeed King Lucien was there, but training session was over. When she saw him, he was addressing Dargak in a low tone. He hadn't seen her yet, so she used that moment to really look at him.
He had changed indeed. If you weren't so close to him, you would not notice the subtle change, because physically, he still looked the same. Hard, huge, scary, calm with a dominating presence that is almost domineering.
But that coldness that surrounded him like a cloak was not there any longer. It made him look a little more...approachable.
“Vetta.”
His deep voice dragged her out of her thoughts. She looked up, her eyes meeting his. Her lips stretched into a smile as she walked closer and bowed to him.
“My king,” she greeted.
Taking a step forward, he kissed her forehead. “How have you been?” he inquired, a soft unfamiliar light in his eyes.
Her eyes slid close as his mouth touched her cheek in a gentle gesture. “I am fine, Your Majesty.”
“You look...different,” he stated as he began walking. She fell into steps with him.
“How different? Is it my clothes?” She no longer had her mistress clothes.
“No.” Sparing her a glance, he said, “Your smile looks more beautiful now. I think the outside world has been great to you.”
“I think so too,” she admitted softly.
“Your eyes are swollen. Have you been crying?” He looked worried.
Before, she would have manipulated this opportunity to her favor—to get more of his attention—in so many ways. But now, the idea didn't appeal to her like it would have before. “No, I think it's what I ate last night, Your Majesty,” she replied softly.
The worry lines disappeared, his face looking more relaxed than she had seen in a long time.
“I heard Princess Kamara is finally here again,” Vetta asked.
“Yes, she arrived yesterday.”
“Will you really marry her?” She had no liking for that princess who slapped her more times than she could count. She did not deserve King Lucien.
The king seemed to consider that. Silence ensued. Then, “For now, it'll be sane to see it like that,” was all he said.
“Oh,” she responded for lack of better words. A very confusing reply, that one.
“Tell me about your life in these past few months.”
That he would voluntarily ask her this so genuinely touched Vetta’s embittered heart more than anything else.
Did healing make someone like this too? Did it really clear your heart of all hurt and help you see clearly, the things hate never to let you see before?
“Vetta?”
His voice urged her on. So she began telling narrating her life outside the palace. All the way to the royal quarters, to his chambers, she told him about her new life.
In his chambers, King Lucien sat behind his desk studying a new scroll while Vetta clattered about the days she went to market. She was so deep into her tale—he was listening too—when a voice interrupted from behind the door.
“Tea for his majesty!” The voice was oddly familiar, but Vetta couldn't place it. Yet.
“Come in,” King Lucien commanded calmly.
The door opened and Talia entered the king's bedroom.
Vetta's words cut off halfway as her eyes settled on Talia and the hot liquid she carried in the wooden cup. The maid, on the other hand, almost dropped the teacup at the sight of the mistress.
“Mistress!” tore from her lips, fright and horror blanketing her face. Her hands began shaking.
King Lucien was scribbling down on the scroll in front of him, paying them no attention.
Vetta glared at Talia and the liquid she carried. Anger boiled her. Coza might have given his word not to hurt King Lucien, but his word was as good as trash. She had no trust in Talia. And her expression?
“What is in that cup!?” she hissed angrily.
“The k-king's tea,” Talia stammered, staring hopefully at the king.
“Bring it this way,” King Lucien said, turning the back of the scroll to write something on it.
Relief filled the maid. She hurried towards the king with the tea, but Vetta stepped into her path, blocking her from getting to the king.
What do you think you're doing!? The former mistress's eyes asked the fierce questions silently.
Talia lifted her chin wordlessly in a haughty gesture that said, You can't stop me because you will implicate yourself too.
Vetta narrowed her eyes angrily. Silence ensued.
At the delay, King Lucien finally lifted his head and stared at them. His brows knitted in confusion when he saw the way Vetta blocked the maid from bringing the tea to him.
“Is anything the matter?” he asked, bewildered.
Talia's eyes twinkled with evil mischief, daring the mistress to try explaining the matter to the king.
“Nothing,” Vetta said at last, stepping out of the way.
Victory flashed in the maid's eyes before she walked past the mistress towards the king. Dropping the tea on his desk, she announced demurely, “Here is your tea, Your Majesty.”
He nodded his head curtly, dismissively.
Talia stepped out of his sight but didn't go out of the room. She watched victoriously from one corner as King Lucien lifted the wooden cup to his mouth and—
“I'll drink it.” Vetta's raised voice stopped the king's descending head.
King Lucien glanced up at her, curiously. “You want tea? I will send words to the royal kitchen to make you one—”
“Please, I'm t-too thirsty, I c-can't wait. Let me drink this one while Maima m-makes you another one. Please, my king.” Vetta had no idea what was inside that tea, but she’d be damned before she let him drink it in front of her. Shaking her head, she walked towards him and took the tea from him. It was insolence to snatch what the king was holding without his permission, but that was not her thought at the moment.
Taking the wooden cup, she stepped out of his reach.
King Lucien did not understand Vetta's insolence. But it didn't get past him that it was the first time Vetta was making such insolent move with him.
“Alright, you can take that one. I'll have Maima make me another one,” he decided.
Victory fled from Talia's face replaced by horror. Terror followed the look of horror. Master Coza will kill her! Not only did the king not die, but the mistress, who's his useful weapon, will die!
At the look of terror, Vetta smirked at her even as tears filled her eyes. Oh, she knew so well that Coza would have her head for this. Then she stared at the hot tea she palmed in her hands and swallowed tightly. But as she raised it to her lips, there was commotion outside the palace—a loud commotion that interrupted King Lucien's writing.
“What is going on?” he said as he raised his head and stared towards the door.
Just then, the door opened, and Dargak hurried inside the king's chambers with a huge smile on his face. For a guard that did not smile, it was downright shocking to see it on his face.
“Your Highness! Your Highness! There is someone here to see you!” he shouted, bowing his head to the king.
Only one person was scheduled to see him today, and that is Princess Kamara's lover, King Lucien thought. “Has Navia's prisoner arrived?” he asked Dargak, still wondering about the smile on the guard's face.
“Yes, Your Majesty! He stands outside your door, waiting for your command to come in!”
“He needn't wait. He should come in—” King Lucien cut off suddenly at the sound of his door opening. A figure walked through the door.
King Lucien swiveled his head in that direction and froze.
Declan walked into his chambers. Declan?