King of Me (The King Trilogy #3)(24)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“No, it’s not. She loves him, and sometime after your wedding, she turns him against you. He challenges you publically to a fight and you kill him.”

King stood. “You lie.”

I held up my wrist. “Ask me if I’m lying.”

He glanced at my tattoo. He got the point, and a wounded look appeared in his hypnotic blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Really, really sorry. But maybe that’s why I’m here; to change your fate.”

“What happens to me?”

“Hagne happens to you,” I replied.

“I become aware of her betrayal?”

I nodded. “She’s pregnant with Callias’s baby—I think—so you spare her at first, but not her family. After she loses the baby, you kill her, too, but not before she curses you to walk the earth for eternity.”

He stared coldly ahead at the wall, his broad, bare shoulders perfectly square like a proud soldier taking a beating.

“And this is when you meet me, a cursed man?” he asked.

“Yes. But…”

“But what?” he snapped.

“You’re not a man.”

“What am I?”

“You’re a ghost, a spirit.”

“I do not understand.”

“Neither do I. But you have the ability to make yourself real. You talk and walk and eat and drink, but you’re dead.”

He nodded. “And I was not the one to send you here?”

I shook my head. “No. I was running from you. You were going to”—I couldn’t say the real words aloud. I just couldn’t—“hurt me.”

He looked like he’d just been punched in the gut. “And my people? What becomes of them?”

“No one knows for sure,” I said quietly. “They disappear.”

He stared at the floor for a moment, scratching his thick black whiskers.

“What are you going to do now?” I asked.

“I must think on what you have said—it does not seem believable nor possible.” He turned toward the door.

“So you don’t believe me?”

“I do not know.” He was almost out the door and then stopped. “You said I behave cruelly towards you. Do you despise me, then?”

I wasn’t expecting him to ask that question, but I answered honestly. “Yes. It’s why I attacked you a few days ago.”

“Then why tell me any of this?”

“Hagne is the one who creates the monster. And her decision destroys a lot of people. Including someone very important to me.”

“I see.” He turned away.

“But I think—I know—that you’re still in there somewhere, inside that monster, trying to get out.” Otherwise, why would he have saved my mother? Or attempted to save Justin at one point? There had to be someone good living inside.

Without another word, King disappeared into the night. I hoped he might return in a few hours and declare that he believed me and had a solution. Because I sure as hell didn’t see one. Not one without any pain and suffering, anyway. If one sat down and moved the pieces around the chessboard, the outcome didn’t look so drastically different from the original version of this story. King could preemptively incarcerate Hagne, or even kill her, but this might incite a civil war if her family was in fact powerful and respected among the working class. Another option might be to let her run away with Callias, but that might undermine his position if the people saw him as weak.

I simply didn’t see any good solutions aside from warning Callias, which I intended to do at the first chance.

I lay back and closed my eyes, hoping that when I woke, I might see a clean way out of this.

CHAPTER NINE

At sunrise, I was woken by a very insistent Mela, who shook me by the shoulders. “You are late, mistress. You must rise and get to the temple immediately.”

I groaned and rubbed my face. “What does King want?” I asked, assuming that he’d summoned me.

“Today is the ceremony of the harvest.”

I cracked one eye open. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that is.”

Mela had her dark eyes outlined with thick black charcoal, making them appear exaggeratedly large. “The non-slave women must make an offering of grain, fruit, and wine to the gods so they will bless our crops in the next planting season.”

“Oh. Sounds lovely,” I mumbled and rolled over. My body felt like it had been through a blender. Twice.

“You are a Seer and must be there. It will anger the gods if you are not.”

Ai-yai-yai. I was pretty sure that boat had already sailed. Case in point, my crazy, f**ked-up life.

“The gods hate me,” I grumbled. “I should stay here out of sight.”

“Please, mistress, you cannot shame the king like this. You are his guest and a Seer. If you do not attend, it will cause a horrible uproar.”

“If it was so important, why didn’t he mention it last night?” I muttered.

“I’m sure our king was quite…occupied with other thoughts.”

Oh hell. I sighed. Yes, I understood that Mela meant “occupied” in the sexual sense. I had, after all, woken up in the king’s bed. Nevertheless, her comment wasn’t so far off. King’s mind had been engaged with some very, very troubling news.

“Please, mistress,” she begged.

Oh…dammit. The poor man already had enough on his plate, and I didn’t need to be the cause of any more heartburn.

I sat up. “Fine. I’ll go, but someone will have to tell me what to do.”

Relief twinkled in her big brown eyes. “Of course. I will tell you everything you need to know, but first you must dress.”

She held up an odd-looking orange dress. The only way to describe it was chestless—like the neckline was intended to be a belly line.

“I think someone forgot to sew in the front,” I said.

She looked at it. “No. This is what the women must wear to the ceremony.”

“But…”

“The bosom is the symbol of fertility and life. It is blasphemous to offer a gift to the gods with your chest covered.”

My head sagged in disbelief. This absolutely had to be some male-contrived bull-crap designed specifically for getting a free peek at all the women’s boobs.

“I’ll come to the ceremony,” I said, “but I’m not going topless.”

Fear washed over her face. “Please, mistress. You must. Or I will be punished. It is my responsibility to have you appropriately dressed.”