With my chin in his hand, I stared straight into his eyes through the milky haze of the veil between us.
“I will not let you touch me, Your Majesty,” I said, my voice quiet but firm. “I’d rather die.”
Shock flashed in his eyes. I braced myself for his hand to slide down to my throat and squeeze. Hard. But he tossed his head back, erupting with a thunder of laughter while slapping his thighs.
“There were times when women would die for a chance to be fucked by me. Yet you would die to avoid that honor? That’s new!” His laughter tapered down, then ended with a heavy sigh. “Obviously, I’ve lived for too long.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
He pinned me with a stare. “Of course you didn’t, but your intentions don’t matter. Any offense to the king, deliberate or not, is punishable by death.”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” I dropped my gaze into my lap.
“Watch your mouth next time,” he said somberly. It was a warning, not quite a threat. “I won't have you speak like that to me, especially if we are in the presence of others. I’ve killed for less before.”
“I’m sorry.” I apologized for the insult my words had brought but not for what I'd said. If I had to repeat my words, I would.
He dismissed my apology with a wave of a hand.
“Don’t worry. Your virtue is safe. I’d rather keep the glorious memories of my rutting into a woman so hard these walls shook instead of replacing them with some feeble attempts to resurrect what’s now clearly meant to remain dormant.”
He turned away from me. I had a feeling he would’ve loved to storm out of the room, slamming the door loud enough for the noise to reverberate through the entire palace. But he couldn’t. All he could do was glare. That in itself was heartbreaking. To see this man, who once might’ve been able to crush granite in his hands, being helpless to even express his rage the way he wished.
I fidgeted with the edge of my blanket.
“I can be useful still,” I said softly. “There are many things I can do for you. I can fetch you food, water, or wine. Or shield you from Kiris and his housekeeping posse when you need peace. Or I could help them take care of you if you wish. I could also tell you more stories when you feel like being entertained.”
To survive, I needed a place and a role at the king’s castle. I could be useful if he needed me in any other capacity than his lover.
But I also spoke out of compassion. He was clearly suffering, and I hoped my company might distract him from his pain.
Maybe easing his pain would help me deal with mine, too.
He turned back to me, still glaring. “I don’t need another caretaker.”
“Okay. But how about a friend?”
He sneered. “I’ve never had a need for those.”
So much was obvious—the king didn’t seem like the friendly type.
“It’s never too late to make a friend. I’d love to be yours.” I wouldn’t give up.
He threw me another glare from under his heavy brow. “The title of a king’s friend has to be earned.”
“Then give me a chance to earn it. Would you accept me on…um, a probationary period?” I gave him the sweetest smile I could manage. “You could have me keep you company in the evenings, instead of nursing a wine goblet here alone. If it doesn’t work out, you can tell me to leave anytime.”
He shifted under the covers again, looking uncomfortable. “Well, I’ll have to call Kiris back now. Unless you can prove to me you’re really as good at giving massages as you say you are.”
Had I said I was good at giving massages? I didn’t remember. But I had massaged Madame occasionally and lived, so I couldn’t be completely useless at that.
After securing my blanket around my chest, I removed the breakfast tray from the nest.
“The oils are there.” The king gestured at the battery of vials, bottles, and jars lining the wall shelves next to the waterfalls.
I examined the collection. “Which one do you prefer?”
“I don’t care.” He shoved the covers aside. “Start with the legs.”
Grabbing a random bottle off the shelf, I sat at his side. I put some of the fragrant substance from the bottle onto my hands. It smelled like almond, and anise, and something else I had only smelled in Madame’s herb collection.
The king stretched his legs in front of him. Thick and muscled like tree trunks, they were crippled by the thick, dark mesh pattern. His skin felt as dry as tree bark, too, the snakeskin markings raised and textured. It quickly soaked in the oil, like the desert floor would absorb raindrops. I added more. This time, I didn’t bother putting it on my hands, pouring it directly on his leg.
The king watched me spread the oil along his shin with my hands then gently rub it into his dry skin and stiff muscles underneath. Seemingly satisfied with my performance, he leaned back onto the cushions, letting me proceed on my own.
“How does it feel?” I asked.
“You want to know what it’s like to be drying out alive?”
I wanted to know what he thought about my massaging technique, but if he wished to speak about his sufferings instead, I wasn’t going to stop him.
“The skin hardens and pulls with every movement.” He closed his eyes. “It used to be thin and dry like paper, cracking every time I turned. At least it’s hard enough to stop breaking now. My muscles are drying out, too. I can’t walk, save for a couple of paces here and there. Soon, the mortal drought will spread to my vital organs. Then, my spirit will leave, and my body will turn to dust. Ufaris Lake will absorb what’s left of it. The Lorsan Wetlands will take back their magic, and the Great Serpent will carry my spirit into the afterlife.”
I drew in a long breath, subdued by his words. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? Don’t you feel sorry for me, little one. Whatever is waiting for me in the afterlife is surely better than this.” He glared at his legs with disdain.
I moved on to massage his other leg, and he put his head back on the pillows again, staring at the ceiling.
“I never thought I would go this way. Slowly drying out in my nest.” He no longer appeared to be speaking to me, just saying his thoughts out loud. “I was meant to perish in battle, slain by a sword. What a glorious death that would be! See, my little human?” He flicked his gaze to me again. “Being the ultimate winner didn’t turn out that great at the end. I’ve killed so many, and here I am now, envious of all those who have lost to me.”
He chuckled without humor.
“See that sword?” He raised his hand, pointing at the massive weapon mounted on the wall above the nest. The metal was dark, almost black. Large blotches of rust stained the long blade. “I used to wield it with one hand, slicing the heads of my enemies as if they were heads of cabbage during harvest. Now…” His chest rose and fell with a deep, sorrowful sigh. “Now, I don’t think I could even take it off the wall if I tried.”
Sadness gripped my heart at his words. I sat with my hands in my lap after having finished massaging his legs.
He glanced at me.
“Hey!” He sat up. “What’s that frown for? Did I make you sad, my pretty river orchid?” Finger under my chin, he lifted my head. “There is no need to feel sad or sorry for me. My death might be rather pitiful, I have to agree. But my life has been nothing like that. I’ve had it all. I’ve done everything I ever wanted and much, much more. Any man would’ve cursed his own mother to have the life I’ve had. Trust me, there is nothing to be sad about.”
I nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’m not sad.”
“Good.” He looked at his now well-oiled legs. “Well, you’ve done a decent job here. But there’s more.” He shrugged out of his robe. “Help me take the tunic off, would you?”
Sliding his thin, cream-colored tunic up, I helped him free his arms from the sleeves, then took the garment off over his head.
Left completely naked, he lay on his stomach over the sheets.