"A maid?"
She spoke with such authority that I bowed my head instinctively. Usually, I'm not easily intimidated, but with Christy's face staring at me, my mouth trembled in fear. How can anyone stay composed when confronted by the villain of the past—especially when that villain wears the face of your best friend?
"A maid alone with the King in such close proximity?"
Oh, she has a loose mouth. What is with that attitude? Does this look like a telenovela? Does she think I'm so lowly that I'd swoon just to have the King catch me? I straightened my spine and raised my head, not caring if she wore Christy's face.
"You are mistaken, my lady," I said, forcing a wide grin.
She began walking toward me, hips swaying with confidence, two maidens trailing behind her. Their pace was quick, closing the space between us.
Her eyes stayed fixed on mine, like we'd just started a war. Lord help me. The way she looked at me, it was possible she recognized me from last night—but did she recognize me as her best friend, or just another maid?
"A maid who doesn't bow, a maid who talks back."
She moved closer, and I quickly bowed my head again. If I had learned one thing in this world, it was that saying nothing could save your head—and I needed to stay alive to get back home.
"What is your name, girl?" she asked, her voice dangerously close.
"Isabel," I replied quickly, still bowing my head.
"Did you forget your place, young girl?"
Huh? Young girl? We looked the same age, and now she thinks she's older? I raised my head and gave her a hard look. Christy, if you're hiding behind this mean-girl act, now would be a good time to show up.
But that wasn't the case. Raising my head might have been a mistake because now she turned to the King, who had a curve to his lips. His hands were crossed, clearly enjoying the drama.
"Forgive me, my lady," I said politely, keeping my hands in front of me like the other maidens. "I did not mean to overstep."
"Your apology sounds like nothing from a scum," her brown eyes sharpened on mine, and I flinched, quickly staring at my feet.
Whatever is she talking about? Sometimes their accent confuses me. If only I had watched more historical movies like Lord of the Rings and what have you. I inhaled slowly as her approaching footsteps echoed through the room. Seriously, there's so much I want to say, but I know it would do me no good.
Can the King say something?
"Raise your head, girl."
I swear, if she calls me girl again…
"Now!"
At the power in her raised voice, I obeyed immediately. One thing I didn't give her, though, which she must be dying for, was fear. No matter how crowded my thoughts were, I still met her gaze without flinching. I noticed her eyes widen slightly.
"You are no ordinary maid. I will watch you carefully."
"That's enough, Tyra," the King's voice boomed, suddenly commanding silence. "She serves me. You will not trouble her."
Tyra's smile suddenly turned sweet. I must be imagining it, but her hips swayed even more, letting her curves hit hard as she walked back to the King. She placed her hands on his, blinking at him with practiced sweetness. Huh?
"As the King, anyone can be a danger to you, my King. It is important we know who we let close."
I turned to the King with wide eyes. Surely he isn't taking her words seriously. Instead of giving her attention, his eyes narrowed on me.
"Careful," he murmured, nodding toward me.
Great. I'm doomed because of the mean girl. Just when he suspected me as a spy, she decides to pile on.
Tyra beamed, clearly pleased with herself. "It is good that you are taking my words."
The King said nothing, not even a smile. I could see his face harden each time she ran her hand over his wrist. Huh. Does he not like her? If he doesn't, can't he just say, 'Do not touch me,' like some arrogant king? Or… does he like her and is pretending not to?
"Today, your father will be visiting the palace. A letter arrived requesting that I join for tea."
I noticed the King's jaw clench, and he quickly removed his hand from hers.
"Tea," he murmured suddenly, turning his back to her.
Tyra stepped closer, positioning herself so he would notice. "Yes, yes, MY KING. It is the first time I am to meet His Majesty, and I can't wait for..."
She stopped abruptly. The King's robe had slipped to the floor, leaving his upper body bare except for his trousers. My lungs felt as though they had been punched out.
I haven't seen someone this handsome—well, except models on television. Nah, nothing even came close to this presence. The sun seeped through the curtains, highlighting his tanned skin, making him golden and glorious. I am certain I wasn't the only one affected; Lady Tyra must have felt it too. But unlike me, she was doing everything possible not to stare. I mean… why would anyone look away from such beauty?
"You."
The King said, pointing at me, and that's when I realized I'm not in the modern world. Fool, fool, now I will be beheaded.
"Get me my royal robe."
I blinked at him. He was pointing at the wardrobe. When I still did not move, he raised a brow, and that's when I sprang and opened the wardrobe I had turned upside down.
I flashed him a smile. He was merely looking at me boredly, pointing at the robe at the far end. I grabbed it, now facing him for more instruction. I stood so close that I caught the fresh scent of mint and soup. Damn, this man was clean—he must have taken his bath before I even walked in.
I tried not to look at his toned muscles and abs. Wow, do they hit the gym in this world too? He has the body of a well-built multi-millionaire. Of course, Harry Hulk—this man was definitely him.
"Put the robe on me."
It wasn't just mere words; those were commands—commands that made my eyes widen as I looked up at him. He wants me to dress him? Not just dress him, but dress him in front of Lady Tyra?
Next to me, I heard her low laugh of disbelief before she said, "Surely you won't let a mere maid touch you? Let me do it, Your Majesty."
I clutched the robe to my chest, as if the throbbing beat of my heart could be seen and had to be hidden. I stared up at the King. We stood too close, and if it wasn't for the wardrobe behind me, I would have moved back. I need to breathe. I need air.
"Do. It," he King whispered slowly at me.