Chapter 5 - Monster In the King's Bed Chamber
When the King walked out of the bathing chamber, Ismena was seated at the edge of the bed, tensed.
She forced herself to smile. "Your Majesty—-"
"You did not watch my kill," he pulled his robe firmly against him, which only revealed the middle of his broad chest.
"Your Majest—-"
"Or the dungeon fight." His gaze held hers. "When you know that I do it all for you."
Her breath settled in her chest like a brick.
That… that was it?
Then he started walking towards her and it felt even heavier. "Or did you not like it?"
"I did." She stayed rooted in one spot.
Don't move.
Do. Not. Move.
"Then why didn't you watch any of it? Not the one at the door of the castle. Not the dungeon fight." He grabbed her arm, his grip tight. "Or do you pity them?" He asked with distaste. "Must I teach you once again what they've done to us? What their kind does to us all the time?" His voice lowered with rage. "Must I always be your father?"
"I love my husband," her voice is levelled, nothing like the storm of fear in her heart. "And it is he that I want. My father is all the way in Wuela. Let him stay there. You not have to be him to remind me what the monsters have done. I know very well and I do not pity them."
He let go of her arm, but remained rooted next to her. "But you did not look."
"Because I had someone better to look at."
Rage sparked in her eyes. A risk. "It's been six months, I don't think it is a crime if the only one I want my eyes on is my husband,"
He gulped and a slow smile played on his lips. "You missed me."
"Of course, I did."
"I was scared," he said and the air in the room shifted. He seemed different too, like he was suddenly sober.
"The King is afraid of nothing. The First Knight is the fear himself. You are both."
A chuckle slipped past his lips but it died too quickly. "Yes. I am both. Fearless, the fear," his fingers threaded through hers and it had been so unexpected that she had almost flinched. "Until it comes to you."
"Your Majesty—-"
"I was afraid tonight. Not because of me but because he lurched at you."
She gulped. Those words carried many heavy meanings.
"Then, there is this other thing that I am always afraid of."
"Your Majesty—-"
"Say my name. It's been months and still you won't say my name."
She wanted to respond immediately, say his name but the sound got stuck in her throat and it felt like the word carried too much weight that her pretence couldn't provide the strength to bear.
"Ismena." His voice was quiet, as his gaze held hers. "Say my name."
"Haron." It was simple. Just a name. But something about that had shattered her pretence. She could feel the strings she had snapped suddenly begin to reattach, and pull her back to that moment, to that person she had fought to stop being.
"Again."
She gulped. "Har—"
He kissed his name off her lips like opium. And when he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, more cracks stretched against her walls of pretence.
No.
She couldn't let this happen.
He would only break her again.
As he had done for the past seven years. She couldn't be foolish again!
But her lips quivered and before she could even stop herself, she heard her voice asking him, quietly, sincerely, "What are you afraid of, Haron?"
And just like that, she was 18 again and in love with him.
"That you do not love me anymore."
It was almost as if she could see him again. The Haron she fell in love with. Not King. Not a warrior. Just Haron.
Her heart clenched tightly. "I love you. I will always love you."
"I know, Ismema, but, sometimes, you feel so hollow and distant, that I cannot reach you. I do all these things so that you are reminded of me." He pressed their intertwined hand against his chest. "So that you feel me fully, constantly, and know that I am here. For you to love as you used to."
18 and in love again.
"I love you, Haron. I love you now as I loved you then. I always will."
20 and happily married to him.
"You love me." His lips found hers. "I love you." There was something hungry in his voice. "It is enough."
Haron had said he had more to give. That was true, he did have more to give and he gave it all to her. This time, the pleasure was welcomed, and it lasted till they were spent, and covered only by the bed sheets.
"We'll have mighty sons and beautiful daughters. But a son first, an heir to the throne," he said caressing her belly and she smiled.
"Any would do? It would be ours." There was a strain of pain in her voice she wanted to suppress but had made it out nonetheless. Haron was far too happy to have heard it.
"No, the first must be a son."
The door pushed open suddenly and women rushed in, scantily dressed, with giggles and seduction in every moment.
Ismena gasped, pulling the sheets tighter to her body. An order burned in the back of her throat for them to leave, but she could not speak and they didn't acknowledge her presence.
"Your Majesty, we heard of your return." One snaked up the bed and the others followed, falling between her and Haron. "How are you feeling?"
"Let's take care of you, your Majesty."
Ismena watched the sight with familiar irritation and rage.
20 and heartbroken.
Haron found her through the mild chaos and stole a kiss from her. "See you tomorrow, my love."
That stunned her.
A wife is to be made love to, and whores are to be fucked. A good man must have both.
It was his voice. His words. Only that they had been spoken of in the past.
On her wedding night.
She pulled the rest of the sheet with her as she stood up, leaving him naked in their midst. She turned away quickly and headed towards the door because she couldn't bear to see it and although her walls were breaking down, she remained stoic.
25 and stupid.
"Yes, see you tomorrow," one drawled and Haron responded. "You do not speak to her like that. I'll teach your mouth what to do.
The laughter and moans mingled into the air as she departed from the room. Cold sweat broke out from her as she moved quickly through the hallways, willing her legs to move faster, despite the pain of how fast they were already moving.
But the white sheet caught on her legs and she fell. She froze right there on the floor, ready to stand up and continue her pretence of bravery. Until tears ran down her cheeks.
Until more and more flowed so much she couldn't stop it.
25 and broken.
Again.