Madeline looked flustered. Not because Calhoun had taken blood from her, but he had used his coarse tongue on her skin and then on his thumb, deliberately trying to entice her with a seductive look on his face.
The room they were in had the curtains draped over the windows, leaving only a few that cracked open to view the world that was outside. The candles were burning in the chandelier that was pulled up towards the ceiling and the fireplace where they sat let out a glow, the flames moving and crackling in the silent room.
“You are not a meal, Madeline,” stated Calhoun, “You are that desert one looks forward to eating even before the first and second course of the meal is served. And I would like to be the only person who has the privilege to do it. Be careful in the castle,” he warned to gain her attention as he leaned his back against the cushions of the couch they were sitting on.
She didn’t have to be careful if she wasn’t living in the castle, and she gave him a look as the thought crossed her mind.
“Danger is everywhere, not just here,” he rolled his eyes as if he read what passed through her mind, “It is never bad to be careful.”
Madeline wondered why he said it, and she asked, “I thought the castle was the safest place.”
“It is, and isn’t at the same time. Did you forget about the poisoning?” he reminded her and she shook her head, “If it weren’t for me, you would have been dead by now,” there was a smile on his lips, staring at her.
“If you wouldn’t have made me stay here, we both wouldn’t be talking about it.”
“Touche! We would have lost so much time if that were so. Look at us now, sitting next to the fireplace,” stated Calhoun, his eyes not leaving her, “I might be the villain in your book now, but I cannot wait for the time when that changes.”
“Worse than a villain?”
Her words came quietly instead of being strong, and Calhoun chuckled. His tongue ran across his teeth to settle on one of the fangs. He then leaned forward towards her, bringing himself closer to her, “I was going to say the protagonist, but if that is what you want, we can do that too.”
Madeline pulled her hands closer to herself, “I don’t think I have ever heard a protagonist to be…”
“Someone like me?” he completed her words, “Who were you planning to make the hero then? The tailorman?” he mocked.
Madeline didn’t know if it was alright to speak because Calhoun was a skilled person when it came to flipping situations and he was the King, which was why she had to be careful with her words but no matter how careful she was, she tripped in front of him.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“But you want him to be your saviour from the big bad wolf, don’t you?” taunted Calhoun to lean back again.
Softly gulping she said, “Would it be bad when he possesses the good qualities?”
“I think you got the definition wrong there, sweetheart,” came Calhoun’s words, “The good qualities that you mentioned of are good only in the books.”
“They are good in my books,” she confirmed, and he gave her a nod.
“But you live in my world, and those qualities won’t help all the time,” stated Calhoun, tipping his chin slightly up as he looked at her, “Let me tell you this, you might be the protagonist, and I might be the antagonist that you view me as, but those are the only main characters that are going to be there. There’s no space for side characters like the tailorman who is unwanted. An unnecessary person,” he said thoughtfully.
Madeline stared back at Calhoun, keeping eye contact. As much as she hated the fact that he had forced her to stay in the castle, she couldn’t’ deny that the words he spoke were rather intriguing.
“In time you will find that I am not someone who wishes bad for you and I am not the villain,” Calhoun said to her.
Said the man who drank her blood, thought Madeline to herself not to forget how he liked to intimidate her. It was evident that Calhoun didn’t care about people with whom he was not interested in and maybe it was a good thing because if he felt James was a threat, she didn’t have to know what fate would await him.
Madeline then looked at her wrist that looked normal except for the two dots because of Calhoun’s fangs. She wanted to leave this room, go back to see if she could find the actual culprit who had tried to poison the King but at the same time she had some questions for which she was curious to get answers. She told herself it wasn’t because she was interested in the King, but just because it had occurred to her during her time here.
Something made her believe that he knew the servant was not the real culprit. It was because the other prisoners who were left inside the cage who had rods pierced into their skin. And the servant she had met was put behind the cell.
“Who do you think wants to kill you?” she asked him.
Calhoun who had placed one hand of his on the top of the couch was tracing random lines with his fingers as he stared at her with his intelligent eyes, “There are many. The person who carries the crown is always under the possibility of being killed.”
To think about how everyone thought it was a shiny object without realizing when the head would fall that was holding it, thought Madeline to herself, “Why are you keeping the man there then? Is it because no one proved his innocence?” she asked him.
“Why do you want to meddle into something that doesn’t concern you?” he questioned her back. Women were usually creatures who liked to keep themselves low unless they were like his cousin Sophie who was eyeing the throne.
“Is it wrong to worry about someone when it concerns their life?”
“Never said it is,” replied Calhoun, “You claim to want a simple life yet here you are trying to bring justice to the man by trying to find out who did it,” he brought his hand up to his face and ran his fingers through his hair.
Madeline didn’t know what was going on in Calhoun’s mind. He knew it, and she knew it too, but he had still continued to keep the man in the cell.
“I would like to be excused,” said Madeline, and he gave her a nod. Standing up, she bowed her head to see that smile on his lips to which she didn’t react and left the room without Calhoun, who didn’t bother to move from where he was sitting.
After a while, Theodore entered the room looking for the King, and he bowed his head before entering the room, “How is your day going, Theo?” asked Calhoun.
“Good so far,” answered Theodore, noticing the smile that was on Calhoun’s face, “You appear to be in a good mood.”
“How’s the hunt going so far?”
“We are looking at the maids. There’s one who has been a little more nervous than others,” answered Theodore.
“Find out who went to Yorkshire out of my kind and generous relatives,” the smile on the King’s lips broadened. Calhoun had been waiting for one of them to trip, and they happened to take the bait.
Theodore obliged, “I will do that. But why Yorkshire? We thought it was from Somerset,” asked the man.
“Do you remember the container with the bulbous end which was delivered to Duke Caxton long ago. A very strange one that was told the maker had died, and someone else tried to replicate it, but it wasn’t done because they didn’t know the technique of how to make it. It was from Yorkshire, the same place where the current one is from,” explained Calhoun, “A servant cannot do it alone and is possibly being ordered by someone wealthier.”
“What do you propose?”
Calhoun finally stood up, meeting Theodore’s eyes and said, “Drag the maid who is involved and cough up the information on who gave her the orders before tomorrow morning.”
