by Anna Santos
I started to write my reply to him on a brand new sheet of pale brown parchment with my new pens. I loved to write on ancient paper. This stationery was beautiful. It was almost a crime to put my ugly calligraphy on it.
Your Majesty,
I truly appreciate your help. I have to confess that I get a bit lost when it comes to translating ancient languages that I either don’t remember or have never spoken before.
I really do like the desk. Thank you for that. I promise I will stay away from your stuff.
I read my answer twice. It was short and polite. At least I hoped it was. Once that was taken care of, I resumed my new studious way of life and returned to work on the translation.
* * *
THE KING
The king sat at his desk and stared at the pile of papers that Jessica left behind. It had been two nights since they were exchanging correspondence, and he had been helping her with her translation. That night, however, he put her papers aside and unlocked the second drawer of his desk. Then, he removed a heavy, sturdy book and opened it to the page he had been working on. Nobody knew what he did when he locked himself away at night in his library. Sometimes, he spent his time looking at Isobel’s painting and remembering their lives together. Even imagining her talking to him as he told her what was going on with their children. But when he couldn’t sleep and remember, or Isobel didn’t answer him back, he illustrated their lives together. He had created paintings of the most memorable situations of their lives. There were no cameras or recording devices when Isobel was alive. The king only had the several paintings he had done of her. Now, he was registering their lives with drawings of them together.
The drawing he was working on belong to when Eric was born. Isobel was holding Eric in her arms, looking at him in adoration. They had loved all their children with all their hearts, but Eric had been special. He had survived despite the odds against him. It had been a long and difficult birth.
The king hoped that one day, when he was gone, that book would be special for his children. He wanted to show it to Anna and Kevin. He wanted to include them in his memories. However, the last few days, he was experiencing changes in his body. He felt tired more often. Pain shot across his limbs and his teeth hurt. There were moments he felt dizzy and couldn’t get out of bed. Maybe death was coming for him. Even his vivid dreams were being tainted by unwanted visions of a certain witch that was trying to take over his wife’s image. Isobel’s image was being replaced by Jessica’s taller and blond figure.
He rubbed his forehead and shut his eyes, pressing them hard enough so it chased away the sharp pain pounding in his head. The scent hit him harder than it should. Plum, lavender, mandarin, vanilla, lily of the valley, magnolia, a hint of sandalwood and cedar tree, and some unknown ingredient that made a unique fragrance. His mate scent. He thought that only Isobel could smell like that. Apparently, he was wrong.
“Dad,” Eric’s voice woke him up from his daydreaming state. He looked at his son as if he had seen a ghost since he had not heard him come in. “Are you okay?” Eric frowned.
“Fine. Is something wrong?” He straightened his shoulders and closed the book with a loud thud.
Eric mused before opening his mouth. “King Francesco doesn’t answer my calls.”
“Maybe he doesn’t care anymore about the witch.”
“We still have his girls.”
The king stroked his beard and reclined back in his armchair. “What did our friends in Italy report about him? Is he assembling an army to invade?”
Eric deepened his frown and his lips became a straight line before answering, “He’s gone underground. No one knows where he is and there’s no sign of him in his palace.”
“That’s peculiar. Maybe he’s moved on to somewhere else. Either way, when Miss Jessica finishes with her translation, she can return the book to him.”
The king was going to open his book and grab a pencil when Eric’s hand dropped on it.
Eric’s voice come out strong. “She doesn’t want to return the book. It’s hers by birthright. He needs to explain how he came into possession of it in the first place. Plus, he may be helping Alaric. We need to investigate more about that possibility.”
“Didn’t you make arrangements for that?” Eric nodded and removed his hand. Then, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Was the interrogation of the girls useful for us?” Eric shook his head. “As long as she’s under our protection nothing will happen to her. You need to relax, son.”
Eric sighed and nodded. Then relaxing his shoulders, he spoke again, “She told me that you were helping her. That’s nice of you.”
“The faster she translates that book, the faster she leaves this place,” the king muttered.
Eric scolded at him. “Did you know that you are the only one that doesn’t want her here? You are the only one who doesn’t like her.”
“I’m completely indifferent to that creature. I don’t like or dislike her,” the king informed, resting his arms on the desk with a serious face. “She’s here to help Kevin and for her own personal reasons. But so far I haven’t seen her making any progress regarding Kevin’s tattoo, despite the amount of books she leaves scattered about,” he said, motioning to the desk on the right corner of the library, next to a window.
“There are hundreds of symbols to search. She’s doing her best and she will put these back in their right place once she’s done.”
The king pursed his lips. “Why did you come here?”
“I wanted to remind you that you have a meeting with the principal tomorrow in the afternoon. And I wanted to see if you had eaten today. Rose says that you have been feeling ill and your stomach is upset. Is there anything I can do? Do you want me to send for the doctor to check on you?”
“I’m fine. No need for doctors.”
“As you wish, Dad,” Eric said with a hint of disapproval in his tone of voice.
The king frowned. “Did you come here to check on me or did you actually have something important to tell me?”
“I came to check on you, remind you of your appointment tomorrow, and tell you that I’m leaving to Shane’s house. We are gathering there to watch a game and spend some time with my friends. I was wondering if you wished to join us. Anna and Jessie will be there preparing snacks.”
The king arched an eyebrow to his son’s words. He mused for a moment and then muttered, “I have better things to do with my time.” He opened his book and grabbed the pencil.
Eric sighed loudly and scratched the back of his head. “How’s the book of memories going?”
“It could be better if I didn’t have so many distractions.”
“You are truly becoming a grumpy old man,” Eric declared. His father raised his head to watch him. “You offered your help to Jessica. Just give her a break, okay? She’s been through a lot already, and she needs our support.”
“You are always really quick to jump to her defense.”
“She’s my friend and she’s a really nice girl.”
“I do not wish to continue this discussion with you, since you are clearly infatuated with this girl, and there’s nothing I can say that will justify my need for privacy.”
Eric arched an eyebrow at his father and folded his hands behind his back. He opened his mouth but he closed it again. Then, breathing deeply, he said, “Have a nice night, Father. I will see you tomorrow.” With a slight bow of his head, the prince turned around and left.
* * *
On the morning of the next day, the king raised his hand from the page he was sketching and looked at the door. Someone had softly knocked. He frowned, taking in the scent that identified who was on the other side. He had been all night in the library and then went down to his office so he could have the privacy he needed to finish his sketch. Apparently, he wasn’t safe from her anywhere.
Getting up, he opened the door before Jessica could knock again.
“What can I do for you, Miss Jessica?”
Jessica lowered her hand and hugged the old-looking book she had brought with her. “Good morning,” she whispered softly, averting her eyes from his as pink spread across her cheeks. She was wearing a black mini romper, with revealing cleavage and black ankle boots. He gulped before staring at her face. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
The king waved his hand and stepped aside so she could come in. “I was finishing a sketch.”
“What are you sketching?” She asked, raising her head and looking at his desk.
He pursed his lips and immediately regretted what he had said. He didn’t like to talk about his work. He also had no intention of having her here longer than he needed to.
“Nothing important. So…what can I do for you?” He walked to his chair and sat back.
Jessica sat on the chair across his desk and placed her book in front of her. “I was talking to Eric this morning.” The king nodded, encouraging her to continue. “He told me that, in your spare time, you produce works of art on commission.” The king frowned and rubbed his beard. “I would like to know if I can hire you.”
“For what, exactly?”
“Eric gave me this,” she said, showing him the old-looking book. “He encouraged me to create my own grimoire. He made this book with wooden covers and sewed it himself to give it a more ancient look. It looks beautiful, doesn’t it?” The king nodded as he placed his folded hands over the desk and assessed the happiness in her voice. “He said you used to help your wife illustrating her books. I have been carefully looking at her books, the symbols are beautiful.”
The king narrowed his eyes. “Thank you. But what does that have to do with what brought you here?”
Jessica crossed her legs and relaxed more fully into her chair. “My grimoire has a lot of illustration, maps, and even pentagrams that will need to be copied. I have been adding pictures of the plants on my digital copy, however, if I want to keep the tradition and create a new grimoire so I can return the old one to King Francesco, I…”
“Why don’t you use tracing paper to transfer the drawing? It’s easy to do and even if you don’t know how to do it, I can show you.”
Jessica’s eyes were wide when she spoke with disappointment in her tone, “I’m assuming that you are busy, then. I told Eric that it was a really bad idea. I’m really sorry for disturbing you. Have a nice day. Oh, and Rose wants to know what she should prepare you for breakfast?” The witch got up and grabbed her book.
“I’m not hungry,” he mumbled.
“As you wish. Have a great day, your majesty.”
Jessica turned around and left as his eyes followed the curves of her waist to the length of her attractive legs. She was wearing her hair down that day, the blond curls bounced graciously about her shoulders, spilling down her back in a tangle.
The witch had closed the door when she exited, leaving him in silence. It was only ten minutes later that he realized that he was still looking at the door, unemotionally. A part of him was feeling bad for denying her help. Another part was assuring him that he had done the right thing. The less time he spent with her, the less probability he had of giving into temptation.
Grabbing the pencil, he opened the book to continue his work, but another knock on the door alerted him to the fact that he wasn’t going to find peace anytime soon to finish his sketch. “Come in,” he requested.
“Good morning, grandpa,” Anna said cheerfully. “I’m here for our lesson!”
The king frowned and then he recalled that he had told Anika that he would help her improve her sword-fighting skills. He got up to greet her.
“You aren’t dressed,” she complained, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek. “You look tired, have you slept?”
“Sleep eludes me these past days,” the king mumbled. “But I’m fine and I could use the distraction I’ll go upstairs and change. Why don’t you go ahead and start warming up?” He kissed her forehead. “After the practice, I have something to show you. I hope you will like it.”
“What is it?”
“The cover I was working on is almost finished. I want you to be the first to see it. After all, you were the female model I used to inspire me.” He grinned at her excited expression.
“I can’t wait to see it! But I’m going to make sure that you eat before the practice.”
“You too?” He grumbled.
Chapter Eight—Dreaming of You
JESSICA
I could feel my warm hands touching his face as his arms engulfed and soothed my soul with all the love I never thought I could feel. There was peace every time we were together. I felt as if I belonged to something, to someone, as if nothing else in the world mattered.
My heart pumped fast as my lips pressed against his beard. It tickled me and I opened my eyes to search for his face. My heart leaped inside my chest when I saw the man I was holding. It stopped beating completely when I noticed his blissful expression change into discontentment and then rage as he shoved me away from his embrace. I stepped back, confused, taking in the king’s face, Anna’s grandfather.
“Where’s my wife?” He questioned with fierce, glowing purple eyes.
“What are you doing in my dream?” I asked, noticing the darkness that surrounded us. The place wasn’t familiar anymore and my dream had become a nightmare.
“What are you doing here?” He insisted, stepping forward and grabbing my arms. It hurt and scared me. When I gazed up at him, his face was no longer scary. He seemed as confused as I was. Why was he invading my dreams? Where was my mate?
Before my eyes, his figure faded away and I woke up with a start. I lifted myself on my elbows and glanced quickly around the familiar room. The feeling of panic calmed and I rose from the bed to look at myself in the mirror. My blonde hair fell messily around my face. I was flustered and my blue eyes were wide opened as my mouth tried to inhale the necessary air to calm my fast beating heart.
My hands grabbed my skull as a sharp pain in my head alerted me that the worst was yet to come. I stumbled back. Words were stuck in my throat as blood ran down my nose. Then, I blacked out.
* * *
THE KING
The king paced back and forth from his desk to the window. He couldn’t sleep and when he slept, he dreamed of her. Jessica. Not his wife. But her. She was invading his memories and forcing her presence everywhere. He stopped next to the window and pressed his forehead against the cold glass.
The moon was illuminating the garden. He tried to remember the happy days he spent outside in the garden of their palace, in another land, in another era. Isobel loved flowers. Her happiness was inebriating. Even when everything seemed lost, she managed to find hope and give hope to others. He missed her more than he could endure. He wanted…He had no idea of what he wanted anymore. His dreams were no longer a safe place to be.
A sigh of defeat left his lips as he turned around and glided down the glass until he was seated on the ground and his head touched his knees. Despair took over his body, making it tremble. There was a scream trapped inside his throat that he didn’t dare release, afraid that it might echo throughout the palace and draw attention to his fragile state of mind.
He must have fallen asleep because he awoke to someone calling for him.
“Your majesty, are you all right?”
It was a soft voice.
He grumbled, unwilling to leave the warm embrace of sleep.
“You should rest in a bed. I can help you reach your bedroom if you are too tired,” the female voice said.
Raising his head, he blinked several times until Jessica’s face appeared before him. She had knelt in front of him. Her big, beautiful, oceanic blue eyes staring back at him.
“Are you okay? Do you know where you are?”
He brushed her hand aside. The one that she had raised to touch him. “Of course, I know where I am. I’m not a senile old man;” he grumbled, assessing the room and noticing that it was already day.
Jessica had stumbled back and kept he
r hand against her chest. The sweetness of her scent and her hurt expression made him even more upset.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Her velvety voice stirred more anger.
In an effort, he rose to his feet and smoothed his clothes. “Mind your own business, witch,” he spat at her.
He didn’t need to read her mind to see her pain and recognize the shock in her eyes. He brushed his pity aside and exited the library with all of the dignity he could muster. When he arrived at his bedroom, his body collapsed in his bed. Pain shot through his limbs and exploded inside his head. He curled into a fetal position as his arms hugged his knees against his stomach. His body broke out in a sweat.
There was something terribly wrong with him.
* * *
JESSICA
Jessica was pacing outside the king’s bedroom door while nibbling her lip. Her heart raced with concern since she had found him in his bed, shaking and burning up with fever. She had rushed to call Eric. At that moment, a doctor was inside the bedroom examining him.
Annabel and Kevin were outside, leaning against the wall with their arms crossed and eyes on the floor.
“Stop pacing around, you are driving me nuts,” Kevin said, uncrossing his arms and breathing deeply as he stretched his neck to the sides.
“Let her be,” Annabel breathed out. “She was the one who found him. She can worry all she wants.”
“Maybe he’s finally…you know.” Kevin paused and looked at his sister.
Jessica walked to him and put her hands on her hips with an angry face. “Don’t you even dare say that out loud!”
He narrowed his eyes at her and growled, “Do you think I want that to happen? I just met him. We just found a family.”
