8 He loves me not

Mirrors are the worst things ever. They show you what you most likely don't want to see—

King sat down in front of his dresser to observe the face he hadn't looked at for months. He was disgusted and angered by his reflection. He smashed the mirror despite knowing that wouldn't solve his problems. No matter how many mirrors he'd break his face would remain the same.

Gilbert Knocked from the other side and soon, the door opened on its own. "What is it?" King asked putting on a mask he just made out of parts of different skulls just to create a masterpiece only he could a wear. This one was unique, he painted it black and made it look horrific. Exactly the kind he'd been trying to achieve for years.

"Breakfast has been served my lord. The Queen is waiting for you. She said she wouldn't eat unless you show up." After his brief words, he left.

It's not like King cared or anything, but it was too early to let her die. She'd die anyway but not by starvation. She'd face hell, but it was yet to come.

He put on his casuals, wore his boots and advanced down to the dinning room where she was.

He took his seat, tied his hair up so it wouldn't come in contact with the food then he stopped for a second to consider the need to drink water.

He could sense her peaceful mood. She acted so calm, pretending like nothing occurred between them the previous night.

His blood was boiling. Why does she pretend to not feel pain? What was she made out of? It can't be steel, nothing metallic at all. In any other case, he was certain she was powerless inside, however her joy and guiltlessness kept it covered up.

He thought he was the only one that could rock a mask, however the lady on the opposite side of the table was a champ, she didn't require one to shroud her face. Her face was already the mask she needed to cover up her real expressions.

She maintained a strategic distance from eye to eye contact with him, and was tensing up at the thought of making anymore mistakes. She inhaled to relax a bit before she opened her mouth to speak "h-how was your night my love" she already knew she messed up by stuttering.

King's hands tightened around his fork "My love?" He remembered someone briefly and it annoyed him "Since when were you given permission to call me that?"

"I'm sorry. Since we're married I thought it would be perfectly fine to call you something like that—" he didn't hesitate to splash wine on her subsequent to being profoundly aggravated by her charming comment. He flipped over the table from the side then slowly approached her.

He pulled on her hair and made her look at the red iris that were exposed "Don't ever think that marrying you was because of love."

The maids hurried to meet the Queen. She had to get cleaned, she was in a bad state. King left not giving a damn about her neither the food she'd spent her time to make.

"Marrying me was not out of love...." Amal grinned. She advised the house cleaners not to stress excessively. She'd tidy herself up without assistance.

Gilbert watched everything that happened. He didn't understand what the King's problem was. Why was he treating her that way? One way or another he'd take the risk and confront him. If he was going to bully her like that, he shouldn't have married her.

Amal stepped out of her bath. she spent minutes crying in there but she felt good as new once she was done. Reality was often disappointing. She'd grown accustomed to that.

She put on a new dress, brushed through her hair and left to watch over her garden.

"Greetings my Queen" Gilbert met her at the small garden gate, almost the same size with the little fence put around the hectare of the garden.

She didn't have any acquaintance with him, she knew the name Gilbert however she didn't have the foggiest idea about the man standing before her. She was careful. She wasn't permitted to have an appropriate discussion with house cleaners and she wasn't permitted to express a word to head servants.

"Don't worry, I'm not a butler. I'm the King's advisor. I'm the King's counselor. You should've known the name Gilbert Frost."

"oh" she soon laughed "forgive me for not addressing you properly Mr frost" she slightly bowed and Gilbert was offended by it.

"Please don't bow to me, you're above me. It's quite...unnatural. But don't read too much meaning into it" he waved  off anything that could make her feel bad and went straight to the point of his visit "I want to talk to you about the king."

They walked around the garden and Gilbert could see how she transformed it into a place of tranquillity and peace.

"I'm sorry for how the king treated you today. It's so unlike him" she smiled at his words having nothing to say. he was different from the time they met at the maiden academy. He seemed to be a man that would treasure her back there but now, she's like a piece of paper that had no value and could be discarded anytime and anywhere.

"I've known him for fifteen years. Even before he became king by killing the previous leader, a tyrant, to become a king that would restore honour to Ekver"

What he was saying was that her husband wasn't from a royal family line?

"He's been through a lot you see. He's been scarred physically and damaged emotionally. I can't go into detail about it because when the time is right he'd tell you himself what made him pick up interest in masks."

"Thank you for your time" it didn't look like she'd get to know why anytime soon since every one of her endeavors to have a discussion with him were vain.

"Goodbye" he bowed then turned back to the direction he came from. He gave her his words, the king wasn't a bad person but his attitude now, he couldn't understand. Deep down Gilbert was sure the king was there, the man he fell in love with was in there somewhere and the mask won't hide him forever.