The Sleeping Beauty
Freya and Princess Rubella smiled at their figures after wearing the coronet.
"I see that you have a good time," a deep male voice startled Freya who stood up fast. The little princess ran to the king and hugged his leg, showing him the crown made with lilies.
"Did you do it?" he asked, squatting. Princess Rubella shook her head, ran to Freya's side and pointed at it. "Good, our princess is skilled," the king complimented.
Freya removed the coronet from her head and looked at the touching scene. Princess Rubella led the king to the landscape where they sat earlier and indicated him to sit.
King Fraser did as the princess demanded while she sprinted to collect the red roses. Freya went to help the stubborn princess.
As Rubella sat beside the king, she showed him the flower she picked.
"Why did you pick up red roses only?" he asked, and she pointed at his eyes.
"You have the same colour as mine," he said, causing the princess to lower her head, her cheeks reddened. Throughout her work, a firm look printed the child's skinny face while the king looked at her with a flash of sadness.
The sorrow lasted for a while, and then the old unbothered expression smeared the king's face.
Freya raised a brow. From her knowledge because of the maids' whisperers, the king valued the little princess because she was the only daughter his brother left.
King Fraser cherished his brother a lot. He fought wars and won many battles as the Captain of the Frowshire's military. He pursued a path of war from a young age. He fought beside his brother against her kingdom. They were going to win, but the crown prince died, which somehow, let the Valian's troops have the upper hand, and the war extended for one year.
At that time, Prince Fraser went on a rampage and fought for several days without resting until he fainted. No one could stop him.
Later, the previous king, Fraser's father, died from an old illness, and the only heir living was Fraser, who was crowned as the new king.
Afterwards, her kingdom pledged to have peace, and she was married to the Frowshire Kingdom. Freya grimaced, thinking about the outcomes.
His hatred for her kingdom was because of his brother's death.
Shrugging off her thoughts, she stared at the clever little princess who finished the diadem and put it on the king's head. "How do I look?" he asked, and the princess smiled.
Freya stared at the king. 'He looked more beautiful,' she thought. The red roses over his black silky hair and the wheat-coloured skin made a contrast like a painter brushing his colours to make a gorgeous scenery.
"Your hands are wounded," he said, staring at the princess' hands. Drops of blood oozed from the small injuries in her fingers. "Why did you not tell me?" the king frowned, looking at the princess showing no sign of pain. At the same time, the princess' nanny came and took her after promising the king to treat her wounds carefully.
Freya looked at the back of the princess and raised a brow. Although the princess didn't talk, she would cry or seek help from the king.
'I never saw a sheltered princess never making a fuss about a simple scratch.' If her only niece was in the child's place, she would wail for a long time.
Concealing the pain meant either she was a patient little girl or she was used to being hurt that a low pain didn't matter to her.
Freya shook her head. Her imagination was flying high. 'How can a princess be used to pain!' she thought.
"Why are you standing? Clean the floor," the king said. She shifted her gaze from the cobblestone hallway and stared at the king, who leaned on an olive tree.
Irritated by his sudden order, she asked, "To clean what?" then she covered her mouth.
'Good! You did a great job. You agreed to ignore him and never ask irrelevant questions!'
The king snickered and said, "To collect the petals from the floor, petal by petal. You know the imperial garden was a precious place where the gardener groomed every day. No one had done what you did before. When Tom sees what his masterpiece looked like, he will faint."
Freya squatted down and rolled her eyes. 'It's just a big garden compared to hers! What's so special about it?' picking up the coloured petals and putting them into a round basket. When she finished, she stood up, feeling the pain in her legs and right ankle.
The swell in her ankle increased. 'I will put ice later.' Taking the basket into a corner, dug a hole into the ground, and buried the petals there.
Standing up, she glanced at the king. 'Why is he sleeping there?'
Looking at the king's peaceful sight, Freya shook her head. He worked nonstop from down to late at night. She noticed black marks under his eyes. Never expecting him to work so hard for his kingdom, the thought of her brother pushing his assignments to his helpers made her disgusted.
Freya debated herself to wake him or not. She walked to his chamber, brought a white quilt and went to where the king slept.
Closing the distance between them, she lowered her body and stretched her hands to cover the king's body. Suddenly, a hand forced its way to her neck, squeezing it and preventing the air from entering, while another hand clutched her arm. Freya shouted, but the voice coming out was low, harassed and stiff.
"What are you doing," the king said, and the hand pressing her neck loosened.
She coughed, trying to take a deep breath. After calming a little, she said directly, "I was trying to cover you, your majesty." Her voice resembled a wronged child.
"Isn't it time for you to stay away from the monster?" he murmured.
"Huh?" she said, noticing the near distance they had. She stood arbitrarily. "I–I am—"
"Your majesty," Trent said, bowing his head. "There are new reports you should look into."
The king nodded and sat up, dusting his clothes and went away, not forgetting to bring the coronet with him.
Freya sighed when they disappeared from her sight. 'So dangerous!' she thought. Being two times close to the king in a short time was a strange thing.
From now on, she would be careful with her interactions with him.
'Did I hear him say a monster?'