Meeting With The Enemy (2)

"I–I …" she stuttered.

"Did the cat eat your tongue? You can't know why you are roaming here?" he said, mocking her.

Freya pursed her lips. "I came looking for the head servant to inform him I need no other servants. What I had was more than enough. Since I encountered you here, I will let the matter for his majesty to carry this information to him," she said, walking toward the door.

If she stayed a little longer, she would lose her sanity.

As she passed him, he grabbed her arm. "Let go," she yelled, struggling to free herself.

"From which filth did you come? Am I your errand? You should be buried in your room and not wander in my palace. Do you take me as a child to believe your lame excuse?"

'Filth! You're the filthy one!' she thought. Her heart rose to her mouth. "It's up to you whether or not you believe it. Let me go! You are hurting me!" she said. His clutch tightened, feeling her hand was going to crush.

"Your hair? Did you do some unspeakable deed?" he asked.

"What nonsense are you spouting?" she responded. The pain in her arm increased.

He walked closer till the distance between their faces shortened. "I don't care if you did, but you had to do it in your quarter. Do not tarnish my place."

Freya flung her hand, attempting to slap the king, but he held her hand, clasping it behind her back. "You dare!" he said in a threatening tone.

"I will never allow you to disrespect me like this. I shut my mouth all those years not because I was afraid of you but because I didn't want to be the queen from the start—"

"You didn't want to be the queen? What a hilarious thing," he said, chuckling. "You surely have a bad sense of humour."

Freya tried to push the king's body, but it stayed still like a rock. "Go away. Do you want to hug me for a long time? Don't you brag about me being filth? You seem to enjoy being touchy with the filth," she retorted.

The king pushed her. Freya staggered backwards. "I am not interested in dirt," he remarked, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his hands.

"I forgot, the king preferred the filth's maid," she shot back. Despite her blurry sight, she could feel the king's glare and the change in the surroundings, but she refused to back up and raised her head.

The king turned around. "Return to your quarter and live as a forgotten piece of furniture like you have lived before," he said, closing the door behind him. Freya's blood rose. She grabbed a nearby pot and threw it at the door, falling with a loud smash sound.

"You ******* king. I will never forget this humiliation!" she shouted, stormed out, walking to her quarter. Bumping with Rachel at the entrance, 'It's my unlucky day!' she thought, continuing her way.

"Queen Freya."

Freya stopped then turned to face Rachel's smiling face. She stood, clad in an exaggerated pale yellow dress, accompanied by five ladies-in-waiting behind. "What wind brings you here?" she asked.

'The few breaths I took to calm myself earlier were for no need.'

"I came looking for my husband, the king. Why? Do I need permission from you to meet him?" she said, lifting her chin.

Rachel's smile cracked. "No, Your Majesty, I didn't mean it that way—"

"Excuse me, I had something to do," said Freya, letting the ladies open their mouths.

"Don't you see her wet hair? She didn't wear any jewellery? Did she not care for her appearance?"

Their voices faded as she moved away. Freya scoffed. The last thing she cared for was to seem presentable. She needed to venture the anger rising in her chest. After being disgraced for something she did not own and misunderstood for something she didn't do.

How much hatred did the king have for her?

She didn't fight in wars nor propose a marriage agreement. Her brother, Kalian, orchestrated every step she did from the moment her feet stepped into the Valian castle till today.

She hated him to the core.

Shuffling to her quarter, she went to her room. "Ma'am." Freya glared at her maid. "Are they in the next room?"

"Yes, your majesty," Joe said, lowering her head.

"Bring my golden set and help me to comb my hair," she said, sitting in the armchair. Joe nodded and groomed her. Seeing her appearance, she hummed in satisfaction and went out.

Getting in, Freya raised a brow, seeing a familiar face.

"Greeting, your majesty," the maids said, bowing.

"You, what's your name?" she asked

"Katy," the maid with a pimple on her cheeks responded.

Freya nodded. "You will replace Nara, the previous headservant, from now on," she said permitting the other maids to retreat. 'Let me see how you will be proud as you were at the laundry days ago!'

"I will give you a list of your duties from today on. First, you will wake up at dawn, and prepare the ingredients for the meals. If something is missing, you'll be held responsible. Second, you will order the other servants to do chores. If anyone did her work hastily, you… And last, you will sleep the last after confirming everything in the quarter was in the right place. If you failed to do one mission, you would be punished. Do you have any objection?" she declared.

The maid's face paled. "N- No," she said, shaking her head.

"Good. Happy working days." Freya smiled, watching the maid walk out. The smile faded. She returned to her chamber, followed by her maid.

"Your majesty, will I bring your tea and snacks—"

"No," she interrupted, sitting on her bed.

"Then I will leave," Joe said, walking out. Freya lay on her bed.

Feeling her chest being blocked, she sucked in a deep breath. Tears formed in her eyes. She closed her eyes to prevent them from falling. 'Don't cry. You are strong, don't let your emotions take over you. After a few months, you will be free from all the suffering you went through, just a few months.'

With this idea, she drifted to sleep.