Calhoun was in the gallery along with Theodore. Theodore didn’t dare to ask Calhoun on what had transpired in this room between him and the lady which had resulted in the girl wearing just a petticoat and the King’s coat. It wasn’t just because he was scared of crossing lines with Calhoun but because it had nothing to do with him.
Theodore had spent years with Calhoun, and he knew the man not only because he was his King but because he was his friend. The man who worked for the King had nothing but best interest in his mind when it came to the person holding the crown right now.
“You stopped painting,” said Calhoun, who was leaning his back against the table and supporting himself while looking at Theodore who was looking at one of the many paintings Calhoun had made.
“I lost interest in it a long time ago. I don’t think I have it in me to paint anymore,” answered Theodore. He walked to look at the same painting which Madeline had come to stand and stare earlier. The portrait of the crowded market that was dark and bustling with people. It was too compact with so many of things in it, and the man said, “I don’t have the talent like you, my King.”
Calhoun looked at Theodore’s frame, who was looking at the painting before he tore his gaze away and looked at him with a smile, “Maybe this is why you are the rightful person to have the crown on your head. I am not strong enough to relive the memories.”
“Those memories are what has made us be today,” drawled Calhoun. He pushed himself from the table and walked to look at the painting, “Those were some memories,” said the King whose lips pulled up from one corner, his eyes calmly looking at what he had created.
“Do you ever dream of it?” asked Theodore, his lighter coloured red eyes looking at Calhoun.
“Every time I close my eyes. You live the dream to the point where it doesn’t affect you anymore. It is just a numb feeling that eventually comes to pass or stay.”
Calhoun and Theodore were not related to each other, but they had met each other when they were young boys—having each other’s back in the world they lived where it was survival of the fittest. Theodore sat down on one of his knees. His head bowed to express his gratitude to the King.
“I owe you my life. I am at your service at any point in time,” expressed Theodore.
Calhoun stared at Theodore and said, “I will be wise to use it when I seem it to be fit,” and then Theodore finally stood up on his feet, “What did you find about the poison that has been circulating?”
“So far the servants appear to not know anything about it. Oswyn has not answered the questions that have been asked, but he fears for his life and his family,” Theodore informed him as they made their way out of the gallery room, “He seems to be hiding something but refuses to speak about it. Especially with him in the solitary room…”
“If that is so, have him back in the dungeon. Being polite and kind gives you nothing in this world, does it?” chuckled Calhoun and he knew this by experience, “Sometimes being cruel gets the result faster. Shift him today and treat him the way you would with any other criminal. Hiding and covering a conspiracy is also another part of treason against the King.”
“Yes, milord,” Theodore obliged to the words that were spoken by Calhoun.
As they continued to walk, they found his relative walking towards them who was part of the Wilmot family. His cousin, Sophie Wilmot was here.
“What is she doing here?” asked Calhoun with a bright smile on his face.
“Her ankle must have gotten better?” replied Theodore looking at the vampiress who headed in their way.
Calhoun couldn’t help but smile over the words because they both knew Sophie had not hurt her ankle, and it had been nothing but a ploy to get his attention. The two men had grown up in the worst part of the land, and it was not possible to not recognise white lies that were easy to catch on.
Sophie had a look of upset on her face, making her way to where Calhoun was. Once she was close, she smiled at Calhoun, “Brother Calhoun,” she greeted, bowing her head and lifting it.
“Sophie,” Calhoun greeted her, “I didn’t know you were visiting the castle. How is your ankle?” he asked with polite words. His eyes filled with mirth in them as he looked at her.
Sophie gave him a warm smile, “It is much better now. Thank you for asking,” she looked down to her leg and brought her foot forward, rotating her ankle to show it was all better.
“I thought it was your left foot that had twisted itself,” Calhoun stated, and Sophie looked as if she were caught before she smiled.
“Is that so? This was the ankle, brother Calhoun,” answered Sophie. Her eyes moved to his shirt, which was etched with spots of paint on them. He wore a pale white shirt with the top two buttons that were left unbuttoned to let one have a view of his smooth and hard chest.
The vampiress would have blushed and acted coy in front of Calhoun if she hadn’t seen the lowly human wearing a coat that belonged to the King. She had reached the castle three hours ago and had been wanting to meet Calhoun, but the ministers and the servants had mentioned about him being in his room, resting, which was a lie.
Earlier when Sophie had stepped out of her guest room and walked towards the King’s quarters where his room was located so that she could talk to him. It was then she had noticed the human walking in one of the corridors across from where she stood. She and her mother had dropped her out of the castle so that she would not return to the castle ever again, so how did she come back?!
The human clearly lacked a proper dress underneath the coat that belonged to the King. She was furious when she saw her enter a room and go behind the door to close it. Had the King bedded her? She was curious.
“I wonder which one of our memories are bad,” hummed Calhoun, a hint of sarcasm in it, “Unless you are implying that mine is bad.”
Sophie laughed softly, placing her hand on Calhoun’s arm, “Stop teasing me, brother Calhoun.”
Theodore, who was with them, turned his head away, his eyes looking at the walls and pillars of the castle when he heard Calhoun say, “Am I? Theodore, do you agree with Lady Sophie’s statement?”
The vampire pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, “You have an excellent memory, my King. No one can compare you to it,” Theodore was the King’s most trusted and loyal man who would call the crow to be white if the King asked him to testify for him.
“You need to eat almonds. They say it is good to retain memory,” said Calhoun and Sophie wondered why she could made the error of forgetting which ankle she had shown to have hurt before.
When they started to walk, Sophie walked right next to Calhoun’s side. Though young, she was a vampiress who was looking forward to turning to be the queen of these lands, and she had grown up with the thought of how she should behave and sway people. And maybe it would have been easy if the King wasn’t Calhoun but another man.
She didn’t know how, but Sophie had noticed many times on how he was able to look through her or anyone, which was why she had to be careful with what she uttered to him.
“Were you painting?” asked Sophie with an enthusiastic voice.
Calhoun nodded to her, “I was.”
“Can I see it later? It has been a while since I last went to the gallery. The last I saw was you working on the stag that we hunted. My King, I have a request,” said Sophie, her red eyes looking into his darker ones, “I would like to be painted too,” her words were slow enough so that it wouldn’t be lost.
