Chapter 9

When Ayla thought about the time she would have to serve King Rhobart's dinner, she imagined that he would be eating alone. But now she saw how wrong she had been. At a long, big table, King Rhobart sat together with his paladins. The food was already on the table, but no one was eating.

There was no servant in the room ready to serve the food. Ayla frowned. Surely she won't be serving all of them.

She fisted her hands to hide how nervous she felt while studying the King and the Paladins. The men were dressed in simple tunics and were chatting among themselves. To her relief, they haven't noticed her. Yet.

King Rhobart wasn't seated at the head of the table. He was sitting in the middle of the table and talking to a Paladin that was to his right. The seat next to his left was unoccupied.

She was unsure of what she was supposed to do. Should she let, the King and the Paladins know that she had arrived. Or should she go directly to the table and start serving the food. On the few occasions that Ayla had been permitted to eat with her father and her brother, the slaves and servants served the food without saying a word. Maybe that's what she was supposed to do.

Before Ayla had a chance to walk towards the table, Milton cleared his voice catching King Rhobart's attention.

The King whipped his head and looked directly at Ayla like he already knew where she was standing, and his onyx eyes looked directly into her eyes. She stared and stared into his eyes for what seemed forever. And Ayla would have kept staring if not for one of the Paladins that, thank Adanoss, spoke, "We are in the presence of a Lady, you assess!"

"I don't see any Lady," someone said while the men hurried to stand. Including the King.

"For Inoss' sake, don't ruin the dinner!" another said.

The sudden movement startled Ayla. She took a step back and bumped into Milton. He put his arms over her shoulders, "We better not make the others wait." And the Fire Mage guided her to the table.

Ayla's heart beat faster with each step that got her closer to the King. She wanted to beg Milton to take her away from this dinner. She wanted to ask to be let to work in the kitchen or another place that would take her away from this man with eyes so black they were like the Void – cold and emotionless. Even the stark winter felt warmer compared to his eyes.

Her eyes went wide when she saw the King pulling the chair from his left and signaling her to join him.

Milton took his hands off Ayla's shoulder the moment she was in front of Rhobart. Her blood roared in her ears, and she had to take two steps back to be able to look at his face. His 6'7 towered over her 5'5, making her feel so small and insignificant. He was so big and strong, and she bet that if he wished, he could snap her in two with his bare hands.

While her father and brother dressed to impress and to show that they were the most important men in Myrthana, King Rhobart was the opposite. He was wearing a pair of simple black boots, black trousers, and a long white tunic. But what surprised Ayla the most was a little satchel that the King wore around his neck. The said satchel was made from the hide of an animal and dyed pink. A very, very vivid pink. Some birds and flowers, or at least that's what Ayla supposed, were stitched on the satchel with equal vivid colors. It looked like something a small child would make. Perhaps a gift from some relative the King cared about.

There was something about that satchel that bugged Ayla. She tried to think why, but she couldn't figure out why she made herself forget about the satchel.

Her eyes locked with his once again. Ayla saw a flicker of emotion in King Rhobart's eyes, but it went as it came. She could swear she saw something similar to longing. And what she saw now were loneliness and sadness. For an unknown reason, her heart ached for him. Who knew Kings as strong and powerful as Rhobart felt sad and lonely? And Ayla understood this so well because she felt like him more times than she could remember.

His hair and beard were shorter than she remembered. And he still looked tired. And sad. So very sad. Ayla wanted to ask what made him feel sad. He should be happy now that the war was over.

Rhobart was the first to speak, "You lost weight, t'xoria. And you look very tired. Are you sleeping better?"

Of all the things the King could have said to her, Ayla certainly did not expect this. And there was that word again – t'xoria. What did it mean?

"I've been sick. But I am better now. Thank you for your concern."

"Don't assume I am concerned about you!" the King snapped. Someone snorted.

Ayla flinched. She was so stupid! Of course, he won't be concerned about her well-being. What was she even thinking when she asked that?

"You really should work on your manners, Rhobart. And on other things," Milton said.

King Rhobart took a calming breath while he kept looking at Ayla. And his eyes turned an even darker shade of black, if that was possible.