Chapter 198

Turning, I find Caleb staring straight at me. I worried he might be annoyed by my presence, but looking at him now, I can see the flicker of amusement in his eyes, and the way the very edge of his lip curls ever-so-slightly with mischief.

“Well? Would you deny your king, servant?” he asks.

I curtsey as a servant would, when addressed by her king. “Never, my King.”

“Good.” He points at a nearby plate of strawberries. “Bring those.”

Confused but obedient, I grab the plate of strawberries. “Yes, my King.” Once I have it, I follow him back towards his throne.

On the way, the outspoken commoner steps into Caleb’s path. Caleb stops and for a moment, the two stare each other down. Caleb is taller and broader than the commoner, but the commoner does not immediately back down in Caleb’s presence.

Instead, the commoner speaks. “You could have intervened yourself, and helped defend us against these nobles who only wanted to insult us. You were the one who invited us here. Was your intention for us to be publically humiliated?”

Caleb tilts his head ever so slightly. “Is that what you think?”

“If I was certain, I would not be asking,” the commoner replies.

Caleb hums. “Then let me clear this up for you, Jason. You and your ilk need to be able to defend yourselves, or you will never survive it here in court. If I defended you, the nobles would see this as weakness on your part and they’d be like sharks circling around injured fish.”

“I am no fish,” the commoner – Jason – says.

“No, you aren’t,” Caleb says. “By standing up for yourself, you have shown them that you have teeth. Instruct the others to follow your lead, and you will soon gain the respect of some of the room, though likely never all of it.”

“Some is the best we can hope for?” Jason asks.

“Unfortunately yes,” Caleb says. “For now.”

Jason’s lip twitches, almost a frown but not quite. He’s almost as good as Tristan was at keeping his face blank. Not quite, though. It’s clear Jason doesn’t think much of Caleb. I imagine that feeling is reciprocated. Caleb doesn’t care for people who question him.

Yet this conversation seems to be enough to satisfy Jason. He steps to the side and allows Caleb and I to continue walking. He glances at me, but mostly keeps his eyes on Caleb, even long after we’ve moved on. As Caleb sits on his throne, with me behind him, I can still feel Jason watching us.

He could be up to something. I don’t trust him or his lingering glances.

“Caleb,” I ask.

“Hm?”

“Just how were these three chosen out of everyone?” I ask. I never heard the full specifics before and my curiosity is now getting the best of my, especially with my suspicions rising regarding Jason.

“They were chosen in a popular vote among the common people,” Caleb replies.

With the popularity of the rebellion right now, this answer surprises me. “How do you know they aren’t rebels?”

“I don’t,” Caleb says. “Each of them very likely have ties to the rebellion, if they are not rebels themselves.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” I ask.

“I prefer it this way,” Caleb replies. “If we should those with ties to the rebellion that their voices are being heard, they themselves might become less radicalized. If they feel represented, they might give up on their desire for violence. And, perhaps, they will convince their fellow rebels to give up the fight as well.”

It is a dangerous plan and feels as if Caleb has personally invited assassins into his midst. After what happened with those guards in the courtyard, I’m hesitant to trust anyone with ties to the rebellion, even if it’s only to support them.

I cannot put my faith in anyone who helps those who advocate for the murder of the man I love.

In addition to this, there is also the matter of the threat on my door. I doubt Caleb has forgotten that, given his intense reaction to finding it, but it seems strange. We already have one assassin waiting in the wings for me, why would Caleb invite more?

Unless he truly sees these commoners as no threat to me. Which makes me wonder, who is the threat to me, then?

As the threatening letter was posted before the arrival of the commoners, then likely they have nothing to do with it. This means someone else in the palace is responsible. Perhaps one of the staff that Caleb has already removed from the palace?

I’m not sure.

“Now. Servant. I have entertained your whimsy long enough,” Caleb says, snapping his fingers at me. “Now it is time for you to entertain mine.”

So easily we fall back into our little roleplay. And why not? After all, I am dressed as a servant, while he remains my king.

Gripping the stem of a strawberry, I hold it out toward him. “How shall I serve you, my King? Shall I feed you strawberries from my hand?”

“As King, I could be fed strawberries from a servant’s hand every day,” Caleb says. “That is not what I require of you.”

I don’t like the sound of that and pout slightly despite myself. Caleb isn’t being fed by his servants…? No, surely not.

Seeing my expression, he scoffs. “Harper.”

“Sorry,” I say quickly. He might have chosen not to marry Annabelle, but I’m still filled with some leftover insecurities from her presence.

Caleb holds out his hands. “Hand me the plate.”

Returning the strawberry to the plate, I then hand it over to Caleb. I lower my head slightly, knowing I deserve this. He wants to end our game because I –

“Now. Sit on my knee, servant.”

Surprised, I look at him, only to find him looking back, a challenge in his eyes.

Does he think I’ll reject him?

I’m not one to back down from a challenge.

The rest of the room seems to fall away. Even on the throne, in the Hall, surrounded by people, it feels like I am alone with Caleb.

As such, it is no trouble to come around and prop myself on his knee.

He grabs the stem of one strawberry, then lifts it up.

“Open your mouth, servant.” Still holding his gaze, I obey.

He places the strawberry between my lips and I bite down. My lips brush against his thumb, which lingers as I chew. Daring, I reach out and lick along his thumb.

His smile twitches, growing.

“Very good.” He goes for another strawberry, and holds it out for me. This time, when I’ve finished, he rubs the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip. Without thinking, I kiss it.

This time, he smiles for real, unable to hide it, nor the growing desire in his eyes.

There’s only three strawberries on the plate, so the fun feels over much too soon.

“Perhaps my servant would like to refill this plate so that we may continue?” Caleb asks.

I’ve never stood so quickly in my life. Grabbing the plate, I hurry off the stage and down into the crowd.

I don’t make it very far before I’m stopped by an irate-looking Kira.

“How dare you embarrass Caleb by dressing below your already lowly station?” she snaps at me. “Have you no self-respect?”