He Is Still Sleeping
As the maid handed the king's dinner to Freya, she made her way to his chamber. However, she stopped halfway and retrieved a small bottle from her pocket. She gazed at the orange liquid inside. She gulped the lump in her throat. Her heartbeat rose.
A tiny expectation mixed with dread crept inside her chest. She clutched the bottle. Her mind debated on what to do. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Her body emitted an uncertainty. Her heart inside hammered.
Freya unscrewed the tap and put a drop on the chicken broth. She waited a while. The broth didn't change in colour. Nearing the plate, she smelled the amazing aroma of different spices. Making sure that the potion didn't appear the slightest, she resumed her walking.
With every step she took, her heart would throb uncontrollably. The thought of helping the king never crossed her mind. Why? She pondered. After thorough thinking, she concluded she did that because of her goodwill and kind nature.
Freya forced a smile and convinced herself to take that reason for granted. Deep down, her heart pricked with doubt as she shrugged off all of her other thoughts.
After putting the tray, she looked back at the king working over his bed. Sheets of paper spread over his bed as he focused on dealing with one, holding it near his face. Seeing the king didn't move from his place for a while, Freya said, "Your Majesty, the food is going to be cold."
The king stared at her and then got up. "Why do I think you are getting bolder?" he said, sitting slowly.
"I am not," she hurriedly retorted.
Meanwhile, Fraser sneered and ate silently. He felt a heated gaze pointed in his direction. And for sure, when he looked up, he saw his maid looking at him as if her eyes held shining stars on them.
"Why did they change colour?" he blurted out.
"Which colour?" she asked puzzlingly. She didn't know what colour had changed.
"Nothing," he added.
Freya watched as the king ate his food, arranged his documents and got out. Usually, he would take a short rest after dining, then resume his work till midnight, take a bath, and sleep.
His hard work must pay very well as he never slacked in his work. He preferred his kingdom over his self. He suffered from sleep troubles, but he never complained even when the tiredness on his face was clear.
The Frowshire kingdom was lucky to have a king like him.
Remembering her brother, she frowned. He was a selfish ruler and an unfitted king for his crown. He was full of doubt and mistrusted his men. He ruled with an iron fist instead of doing his best for his kingdom and let his people appreciate his work and see him working hard for them.
Freya sighed as she cleaned the table and went to the king's workplace. Seeing the king wasn't there. 'Where is he?' she wondered, tidying up the room absentmindedly.
Heading back to the king's room, she knocked on the door but heard no sound from the inside. Freya stood fidgeting by the door. 'What am I going to do?' the king had taken the potion so he should have…
Opening the door slowly, she tiptoed inside. Candles shone, brightening the room. Freya's mouth hung open when she stared at the king sleeping in his full attire on his bed. He didn't even remove his shoes.
As she neared him, his steady breath echoed. "Your Majesty?" she murmured carefully not to wake him up.
She removed his shoes and covered him with the quilt to ensure he was in deep sleep. Early spring in the Frowshire kingdom was quite cold at night. As she fixed the quilt, the king moved a little, burying his head over her hand.
Freya was frozen in place, squatting down with her face close to the sleeping king's. She held her breath in fear of making any sudden movements. When she finally exhaled, she attempted to pull her hand from the king's grasp, but he stirred in his sleep once more.
Feeling like she was about to cry, Freya sat on the floor, facing the king, who was treating her hand as a pillow. Tracing every detail of his handsome face with her gaze. He had big eyelashes and thick black eyebrows. Well-shaped nose and full lips.
Staring at the king, she sighed. "You know, I hated you before coming here. I hated my brother too for choosing me to be your wife. You know if we weren't held by our origins, maybe we could have worked this marriage out," she whispered.
Putting her head on the soft mattress, she battled herself not to sleep, but the tiredness took over her, bringing her to the land of sweet dreams.
Freya stirred in her sleep. As she opened her eyes, she looked at the unfamiliar yet familiar room. Her heart nearly came out of its place. Her right hand ached like nothing before. She slowly brought her from the king's grasp.
The king was still sleeping and it was a surprise as the sunlight got in through the half-opened window. 'The potion worked!' was the first thought coming to her mind. 'What should I do now?' she asked internally while debating herself to wake up the king or not.
Gazing at him a last one, she walked to exit the room. 'How could I spend the night here?' her heart hammered at the thought.
"Felma!"
Freya's body jolted, seeing Lucas get in. What if he suspects something indecent going on between her and the king?
"I was waking up the king, but I found him still sleeping, so…" she said before Lucas would say anything.
"Sleeping?" he exclaimed, hurrying in.
"Shall I wake his Majesty?" she asked.
Lucas, who was still in shock, turned to look at her. "No, let him get more sleep," he said, staring at her.
Freya nodded and went out to check on Danny.