Page 3 of Destiny of a King

The door burst open and Tavish rushed into the room with Feena, the elderly woman Adira had arrived here with and a trusted friend of hers.

Dravic stood. “She pricked herself on the stitching needle,” he said and walked away without giving Adira a second glance.

“Let me see that finger,” Feena said gently, taking hold of Adira’s hand.

Adira barely looked at her. Her gaze slipped past Feena to the king. He stood with his back partly to the room, one hand wrapped around the stem of the silver goblet, staring out the window where thick snow continued to blanket Caerith. He had walked away without so much as another glance in her direction.

Strange, since he always looked back as if making sure she understood and followed whatever it was he attempted to communicate to her.

“There now,” Feena said as she gently cleaned the tiny wound. “Such a fuss over a wee prick.” Her lips curved into a fond smile as she rested her hand lightly against Adira’s chest, letting her know all was well.

Adira acknowledged her familiar gesture with a faint smile. Yet nothing felt well. Something felt different, though how she was not sure.

There had been a time when merely being in the same room with the king had left her trembling.

The memory remained painfully clear.

His dark blue eyes had watched her without mercy as he had taken a dagger and sliced her forearm. She had not understood why. She had only known pain and terror. Then, the following day, she had watched his face darken when the wound was uncovered. She had glanced at Feena, easily understanding her gestures and facial expressions and had seen worry in both.

She had been certain she had done something wrong and she would not live to see another sunrise. She had been wrong. Very wrong.

Instead of casting her into the dungeon—or worse—he had kept her close, much too close to feel safe.

A sleeping pallet had been laid near the hearth in his bedchamber. At first, she had believed it was another way to keep watch over a prisoner.

Feena thought otherwise. Every day Feena had spoken to her as she tended her wound, smiling, touching her arm or resting her hand against Adira’s chest to reassure her all was well. Slowly, ever so slowly, Adira had begun to believe her, though mostly because the king had never treated her cruelly again.

She still continued to fear him on occasion, especially when she felt the room tremor when he raised his voice. It was as if the stone walls themselves feared his power.

Little by little she had come to understand his gestures. A hand resting lightly on her shoulder told her she need not worry. Pointing his finger to a chair or a place beside him followed by a nod, meant he wanted her to remain there.

When the narrow bed had replaced the pallet where she slept beside the hearth in his bedchamber, she realized he intended to keep her there. At first, she feared the thought of remaining there, but Feena, knowing her so well, managed to understand and provided her with some wise advice. With gestures to her ears and mouth, Feena reminded her that she could not hear or speak and with more gestures that followed, Adira understood that Feena was saying that she was far safer here in the king’s castle than anyplace else.

So, she did her best to accept her new home, but she missed the forest. That was where she truly felt at home. And there were times she would have preferred being alone in the bedchamber she was given. She wondered why she had been given it since her nights were spent with the king. She understood why when one evening a woman arrived and the king sent her to her small chamber.

Adira did not judge him for it. He was after all a man and men had needs from what Feena managed to explain to her and from what she learned observing people. So much could be learned watching people.

After one such night, she had been summoned to his chamber and passed the woman leaving. She was half-dressed, her cheeks flushed, and smiling broadly. She was quite pleased, quite happy.

The king, on the other hand, appeared no different and she wondered over it. Why had the woman been pleased and not the king? Unless he simply did not show it. He was stoic most of the time, which would have made it difficult for her to come to understand him.

However, it was when they were alone that he seemed to relax, let his guard down, which made her wonder if he kept her near because no matter what he said when alone with her, she could never betray his confidence.

Her gaze settled on him once more.

He still had not looked her way.

That, more than anything else, told her that something troubled him.

Chapter Two

The Great Hall

The Winter Forest

Breakfast had long since ended, though many still lingered in the Great Hall, warming themselves by the large hearth before returning to their duties. Beyond the tall windows, snow still blanketed the castle grounds, sparkling beneath a pale winter sun. The snow had stopped for several days after having fallen for a whole day, but the cold remained sharp enough to keep most people indoors.

King Dravic sat upon the dais, only half listening to the petition a merchant presented while his gaze repeatedly drifted to the table below where Adira sat with Feena.