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“Oh, I could not possibly.”
“It was not a request,” he stated as he gestured for Zara to follow. He led her to the dining room where the food was already laid out on the table. His staff bowed as he walked in. He pulled out a chair and asked Zara to sit. She did as she was told. Like a gentleman, he tucked her in before sitting down opposite her. She was not prepared to dine with the King or entertain him. She was still in her work uniform and her hair was untidy.
Alma poured them drinks. Zara tucked a hair strand behind her ear as she felt the King's gaze resting on her face as he studied her. “Why are we back to the awkwardness?” he asked her. She looked at him with confusion.
“I do not understand.”
“You are so uncomfortable right now, just relax. I will not eat you.”
Zara smiled. It was natural for her to be uncomfortable. She was in the King's quarters dining with him. Yet she was a lowly palace maid. She picked up her glass and took a sip. She showed the King her multi-coloured bracelet. “My sister made this for me,” she said. Her sister was her go to whenever she was stuck on what to talk about or if she was feeling low. She figured it was a great place to start, since the King always asked her about herself.
“It is beautiful,” he said with a warm smile.
“She is very creative.”
“Are you?”
“I am not, are you?” Admittedly, she was bad at starting conversations with members of the opposite sex. It was even harder when that male was a royal.
“I paint on occasion.” The King suddenly had the thought of painting her. She had an intriguing face and lovely hair.
“That is wonderful. I can barely draw a circle.”
The King laughed softly. He picked up his cutlery and started eating. “How was your day?” he asked her.
“Uneventful, oh except when the King randomly showed up in the laundry room. That was the talk of the day. How was your day?”
The King detected a little bit of cheek in her tone, it was good to see her finally let loose. “My day was very eventful,” he replied. “I had lunch with a friend of mine this afternoon. It seems that he too finds aspects of my life to be amusing.”
“I find that hard to believe, your Majesty. Your life is filled with such…pomp and circumstance, what could he possibly be amused about?” Zara asked as she wrinkled her nose attempting not to laugh.
As the King gave Zara his best stare down, Zara couldn’t help but see his eyes alight in amusement. “You DARE mock me, young lady?”
“Oh no, your Majesty, I would not deign to mock you,” Zara replied, attempting to look contrite. “I am, however, enjoying teasing you.”
Although the staff was supposed to be in the room but invisible, Alma could not help but listen to their conversation. It all made sense now, why the King took a trip to the laundry.
Zara asked about the situation with Amira and Tiana. From the King’s grunt, she could tell that he did not want to speak about it. She smiled and changed the subject. The King was happy to oblige on a different topic. By the time dessert was served, Zara was more talkative and comfortable. The King felt that he had learnt a little bit more about her. He quizzed her on different matters and enjoyed her responses.
As they enjoyed their dessert, Zara noticed that his face became pale and he seemed to sweat. Since they had very little to drink, she didn’t think
it had anything to do with alcohol.
“Are you all right, your Majesty?”
As the King started to answer, his head suddenly felt incredibly heavy. Attempting to rise, he clutched at his chest and tumbled to the floor. Leaping up, Zara ran to his side. “He’s turning blue,” she cried out. “He can’t breathe. Alma get the doctor.” As Alma ran to notify the guards, Zara quickly analysed the situation. His pulse was rapid, his skin was rapidly becoming paler and he was turning blue around the lips. Opening his mouth, she checked for blockages. As Alma returned to her, she quickly asked, “Is the King allergic to anything.” At Alma’s blank look, she barked at her, “Think Alma, is there ANYTHING that he might be allergic to?”
As Alma wrung her hands, she managed to blurt out, “Not food, no.”
“Then what?”
“Opiates.”
“Ok, that’s something. Does he have an EpiPen?”
“A what?”
“Alma, a first aid kit. Is there one here?” At Alma’s nod, “Good, go get it. Quickly!” Alma jumped up and she ran into the King’s bedroom returning moments later with a large red case. Setting it down, Zara quickly opened it and began riffling through it. Finding what she needed, she grabbed the tube, put the blue cap in her teeth pulling it off and then stabbed the pen into the King’s thigh, holding it there. “Oh, I do hope I’m right on this,” Zara mumbled as she watched the King for signs of change.
