Fighting

Freya cleaned both rooms as much as she could. The two rooms were far bigger than she sought. Ramping to the bed, she sat and waited for the king's return to prepare the bath for him.

Rubbing her sore arms. "Freya, the muscle you developed in hunting and working shrank when you tasted living leisurely as a princess," she murmured, remembering the harsh winter after her mother got ill. She laboured hard to earn money. Those days she woke up early, prepared herself and headed toward the Gune Mountain to hunt.

Looking at the dark sky outside. 'What a hard-working king,' she thought, sighing. The king roused up early and slumbered late.

He passed her expectations.

Touching the soft white sheet, missing her fluffy bed. Never imagining that one day, she wished to doze off and couldn't.

Not resisting the lullaby the bed sang, Freya put her head on it and closed her eyes to rest for a moment, but...

"Joe, let me sleep," She whispered, smacking the hand which shook her. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Freya shouted, feeling the pain in her arm. "Why are you pinching—" She turned her head to face two red orbs staring at her.

"Y-Y– your majesty, I–" she said, thinking of a useful excuse, but a blazing stare caused her mind to blacken and her hands to sweat.

"Prepare the bath and change the bed sheet to a clean one," he ordered, sitting in the flat chair beside the bed.

Freya pursed her lips and went to prepare the bath. He walked in when she finished filling the tube with water.

She glanced at the tube with curved lips and hurried to tidy the bed. Holding the sheets in her hand, she passed by the bathroom. Hearing a groan, Freya chuckled.

'It's a small revenge for calling me dirty.'

After a heavy day, Freya sneaked into her chamber like usual. Meeting Joe in the corridor, she asked her to bring light food for her to eat.

"Ma'am, Felma was looking for you in the evening, but I told her you are resting," Joe said, bringing a plate of fruits closer.

Listening to what Joe spoke, the sweet peach in her mouth tasted like mud. 'What did they want from me?' she thought.

"I will meet her later. If she came here again, tell her I am ill," she said and continued to munch. There was no way to have time in the days to come.

'What did I involve myself in?' The name of 'Felma' would appear in her dreams!

Freya calmed herself by thinking of herself sleeping in her mother's warm embrace, 'Things will be better,' she chanted, drifting to sleep.

The next day,

Freya ran to the king's chamber with fast speed. The other servants saw her with shock. Standing by a familiar huge wooden door, she calmed her fast breathing and then knocked on the door.

When she heard the same cold voice allowing her to enter, she trembled and opened the door slowly. Looking at the dimly lightened room, the same scent she smelled yesterday hit her nostrils.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," she greeted, lowering her head.

"Come cut the steak," he said, his voice was cold.

'Something strange is happening,' Freya wondered. Even when they first met, he wasn't this distant.

Freya went closer. A white bandage wrapped the king's left hand. 'It can't be from scalding last night, can it?' doubt crept into her mind. The bath water was not that hot, it was warmer than usual.

After he humiliated her yesterday night, she thought of teaching him a lesson, but injuring him! She gulped. Now her identity differed from before. If he decided to punish her, no one would question the reason. No one would believe that she made a 'mistake' and would think she did it deliberately. Who would listen to a maid from the enemy's kingdom? The people would not even listen to Freya.

Sometimes, she wondered if the peace between both the Frowshire and Valian kingdoms would be set for real.

Freya cut the palm-sized lamb steak into small pieces and then retreated. The meal continued in utter silence.

'The situation is not right!' she thought. The king seemed colder to her, not like the previous days. As the king exited his room, she sighed and tapped her chest, but couldn't shrug off the weird feeling rising deep in her heart.

After tidying up the room, she took the bed sheets to be washed.

She found a short-haired woman squatting and doing the laundry. Freya put the basket on and turned to leave.

"Hold on," a pitched sound hit her ears.

Freya faced the woman and frowned. "What?"

"Why did you put this basket here?"

"To be washed," Freya said, raising a brow.

"And who will wash them?" she asked, wanting to raise a brow but her two brows rose at once.

Freya curved her lips in amusement. "Why are you asking if it is obvious?"

"What you take me as? You brought it, so you have to rinse it yourself. I already finished my work," she sneered and walked away holding the washed sheets.

Freya's blood boiled. She kicked the basket away and then hurried when the sheets fell into the muddy ground.

"Oh, no!"

Freya's white hands reddened from rubbing the sheets. Sweat fell from her forehead.

"So you're here," another maid with a big pimple on her right cheek said, throwing the towels towards her.

"What are you doing?" Freya said, standing fast.

"I am bringing work to the laundry's girl," she said, chewing something between her teeth.

Freya's brows lowered in disgust. "I am not doing it," she declared.

The woman went closer to her. After a battle of staring, she said, "Don't think that being the king's ***** will let you think highly of yourself. Good luck with work." The woman walked away, sneering.

"I will write your names and I will punish you—" Freya shouted.

Arriving at her full level in anger, Freya threw her boots, and then dived her legs into the cleaning tub, stepping hard on the sheets, wishing she could do the same with the one responsible for the misery she went through.

The morning passed in washing. Freya completed the task, letting the washed laundry bath in the spring's sun. She headed to the kitchen to have lunch. Catching a glimpse of the errand boy, she ran behind him.

"Regis," she called him when the distance between them became closer.