Though Madeline had started to look into her past from in between where her mother met her in the alley, she saw the time where she walked towards Calhoun who looked wounded, and he left the alley. The memory turned even fresher than before, something she wasn’t able to recollect and wanted to remember.
“What are we doing here?” asked Madeline, turning around she met Calhoun’s eyes which were calm.
Madeline doubted that Calhoun had brought her just to look at the alley and like always there was something more than what met the eyes. “Not too far away from here, there’s a village. It is where my mother and I used to live in the past. Will you accompany me there?” he asked, stretching his hand towards her and Madeline took it without any hesitance.
Calhoun didn’t use his wings, and instead, they walked to the next village. She couldn’t believe that the previous place where he used to live wasn’t too far away from her grandparent’s house. On the way, he said,
“My mother thought it would be safe for her and me to live away from the castle and the people.”
“But that didn’t work,” whispered Madeline, remembering what he said,
“It didn’t. In the beginning, she moved to a village not too far away from the castle because she was still too attached to my father,” chuckled Calhoun, a dry laugh escaping his lips, “Seeing her, I believed how foolish one could turn when they were in love,” saying this, he turned to look at her. Was Calhoun accepting he was foolish to be in love? Thought Madeline to herself.
“Even after I was born, she yearned for the man. She didn’t move on until my dear grandmother, and Rosamund gave her the push she needed by sending men to take advantage of her. Sullying her name.”
Madeline didn’t know what she should ask or what she shouldn’t so that it doesn’t offend him, though she doubted if there was anything that could cause an offence to the King unless he decided to call it one and have the person executed.
“How did your mother come here to Devon? I mean before she met the last King,” she asked Calhoun.
Calhoun twisted his lips, “I asked her several times about it. When she was in a better mood,” he replied, “But she often stayed quiet about it. I could see regret in her eyes, but they disappeared when she looked at me.”
“She must have loved and held you very dear to her heart,” stated Madeline and she saw him smile.
Remembering some of their conversations, she recollected on how Calhoun sounded like he didn’t pity his mother for allowing the previous King into her heart like she was truly a fool in love, an idiot who lost everything because of the man. But at the same time, she could tell Calhoun cared for his mother. It was because he treasured the person enough to give her a coffin while throwing the other resident of the coffin out to be left to be decomposed.
“She did,” Calhoun continued to walk, holding her hand. He had left his coat back in the castle, wearing just a shirt and a trouser, his hair ruffled because of the wind. “I did think about going to visit this other relative of mine. My mother’s father, but then I thought, if he cared he would have visited. And years just passed by.”
“Don’t people recognize you here?” She looked around at people who didn’t bother to bow or greet him. Not a word, except for some side glance at Calhoun. She found it to be rather odd that people here didn’t know who the King was. It must be because they had never seen him before.
“It has been more than two decades since I openly walked on the road. Some have forgotten, but there are old people who still recognize me.” So it was only the younger ones. She still remembered the time when she and Beth were talking about Calhoun where they hadn’t had a glimpse of him before the ball.
When they entered the village, Madeline immediately recognized the market which they were walking by. It was the same market which she had seen in the painting that was in the castle. The place was busy and bustling, and Madeline stuck close to Calhoun, who was more than happy to put his arm around her.
Madeline saw a couple of people who stared at them as they passed by them.
They finally stopped when they reached almost the end of the other side of the village, “Here is the house,” announced Calhoun, looking at a black, abandoned house which looked like lightning had struck it. “Not too far away from here, there is a graveyard, because of which it turned this house to be the cheapest back in that time. It was something my mother could afford through the money that was given by other men,” his voice turned cold as he said the last words.
Looking around, she noticed how the other houses near to this house were deserted. Stepping inside, she noticed how there wasn’t enough space. It was a place of two rooms, and some things were left as it is, untouched. Like the bed that was broken, the window that had no glass, and there were some utensils in the first room.
There were cobwebs in every corner of the house, and she heard Calhoun say,
“I made sure that the magistrate wouldn’t give the house to anyone. So a rumour was spread about ghosts haunting in the other two houses next to this one,” that explained empty houses, thought Madeline to herself. “This house, I didn’t want to let it go. Not because my mother and I lived here. But because it holds bitter memories.”
Madeline noticed an envelope in the corner of the room that looked out of place, as it looked new. Moving towards it, she picked it up from the ground.
“What did you find?” asked Calhoun.
“It looks like a letter.”
