The Blood King's Bride
Chapter Seventy Five

Two days had passed since the attack in the blood castle. Calhoun had been swarmed

with obligations to fulfil. He had barely had time for himself, from planning the procession that would be used to mourn the death of those who died in the attack to devising a way to prepare for war while training his men.

He currently sat in his study, going through reports of some temporarily appointed

ministers. He was going to have to employ new people for that position. He sighed, gently placed

the information he was reading on his table, and dragged his hands through his face.

"Sire? Is anything wrong?" one of the temporary ministers asked. He was the only one in the study with Calhoun.

"Everything is fine. You may leave. I need some private time." The minister bowed and quietly left the room.

Dragging his hands across his face again, Calhoun stood up and went to his room which shared an adjoining door with his office. He walked into it, closed the door behind him then walked to his bed, where he sprawled face down.

He was lying. Something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

Yes, he hadn't had some time to himself. He had been busy and swamped with work, but even he could feel the cold distance his love was giving him. The coldness hurt ten times worse than the time when they were far from each other. She is close to him, but he can't touch her. Elion made her disapproval on how he had talked to Elena when he visited them in their servants' quarters known. He knew that he might have been hard on her that day, and he felt guilty for it immediately after he left their room that day. But can one blame him for it? He only wished to look after the one he loved. He cared for her madly, and any thought of harm coming her way doesn't sit well with him. He knows she is strong, but with Firoza, he didn't want to take any chance. He could not kill her, as proven by the disappearance act she pulled the day he fought for attacking his parents. Someone as powerful as he couldn't kill her, then Elena would surely be a piece of cake.

Despite all these thoughts he had, the guilt was still eating at him. So he sent for Elena.

But strangely, all those he sent couldn't find her. She was either very occupied with work, or no one had seen her. He was tired of sitting around and waiting before she could be found; he sought after her.

It was the day before, and almost everyone in the castle had gone to rest. Even though everywhere was covered with darkness, there was still a sense of time that told them when it was day and when it was night. It had been close to midnight, where most everybody had retired. He roamed the servants' quarters to pay Elena a surprising visit and see if he had been right in his speculation of them helping to hide her. He found that he was wrong. She wasn't in the room, and whereas Elion seemed to care but not so much, Forest didn't hide his immediate annoyance at seeing him. Calhoun might be the king of a bloody kingdom, but he had hurt Forest's close friend, immediately causing his position to be useless in front of him. He had the feeling that Forest might not have known the main reason Elena was angry, but he knew she was because of him. The intense emotion caused him to leave their room sheepishly. As he was walking back down the castle halls, he remembered when Elena told him that she practices with Elion in the field. So far, Elion hadn't been able to practice with her because she had spent her time going over war details with Calhoun. Aaron, the one who was to train, was also with Elion. He wondered if Elena had been training alone or if she had hidden somewhere else. He headed straight to the outer castle, towards the training ground, intending to see for himself. The night was cool, a bit more than usual. No torch was lit outside the castle walls. Everywhere was quiet, silent. He hoped that he could find Elena. He wished to talk to her. Even if it had been just a day, he remembered wanting to speak with her so badly. He reached the middle of the field and was already thinking of giving up when he heard the swish of a sword. Alert, he frowned, pausing in his steps to pay closer attention. He looked around the field again slowly and found right at the end of the area, the glint of a sword and the petite body of the person holding it. His heart started to beat faster, and he felt nervous, shocked him. He was a king; nervousness should be foreign to him.

He walked closer to the figure, and when he was finally close enough to watch her movements, he paused.

She was beautiful. Graceful. Powerful. The way she held her sword was on point. The

way she attacked and moved with a delicate lethality. If one looked none too closely, he would

be cut down by her before he even had the chance to understand what was happening to him. She moved like water, her stances almost seeming like she walked on air. Even if it was dark, he could still see the intense concentration on her face. She fought powerfully, but she was angry.

He felt the hurt and anger that radiated off of her, and it didn't take him much time to understand that he was the possible cause of how she felt.

He suddenly felt cowardly, so he stood behind, not having the morale to walk up to her.

He knew that he might have unintentionally hurt her, but he never meant to. All he wanted was to protect her.

He watched her until she had worn herself out, and when she finally collapsed on the ground, he quietly left.

Coming back to the present, as he lay on his bed, he scrambled his head for what to do.

He wanted to marry her, and immediately. But he wasn't even sure how he could approach her with how angry she was at him. He doubted that her friends would be responsive if he asked

them how he could sort out their problems.

He sat up immediately, an idea forming in his head. He wanted to marry her, so he had to

tell his parents about her sooner than later. Perhaps, just perhaps, they may be able to help him figure out what he could do. He quickly stood up from his bed and headed straight to his parent's

room.

The damage caused by Firoza had been taken care of, but his parents still wanted to reside in the guest room he had put them in to recover for the main time. That was where he headed to. Once he arrived, he knocked briefly on their door. His father's voice sounded from behind the door, asking him to come in.

He walked in slowly and wasn't surprised by the sight that greeted him. There atop the bed were both his parents. His mother still looked like the queen she was, while his father fuzzed around her like she had received the worst from the attack. He didn't even look up to greet his

son.

Trying so hard not to roll his eyes, he greeted them.

"Oh my love!" his mother said, sitting up. "How are you? Is anything wrong?"

His father pouted when he looked at him.

"How many times would you see us today? Don't you have a life of your own? A

kingdom to attend to?"

Calhoun pursed his lips. His father had gone back to fuzzing over his mother, while his

mother acted like she wasn't enjoying the special treatment. It was a cycle that was beginning to annoy him.

"My bride is in the castle." He deadpanned. The silence that ensued was enough to defeat

an army. His parents paused their actions, then slowly turned to face him, their eyes wide in shock and disbelief.

"Really? She is here?" his father said, eyes lighting in mischief. Calhoun frowned. He would have to quench whatever mischievous thought his father was thinking immediately. His mother dragged herself on the bed towards where he stood.

"You are not joking? She is here? How did she arrive inside our kingdom?"

"She has been here for a while. I forgot to tell you. How she came here would be a story

for another day. But I need your help."

His parents both frowned. "What is it?"

He did not doubt that his parents would be up to date about what had been happening in the kingdom, but he preferred that he gave them a much broader view. He explained everything that had happened. How the Balaksa was His bride's closest friend, how his bride wished she could join them, but he severely disagreed because he didn't believe she was strong enough to

fight Firoza, how his bride trained hard every day so she could become powerful. There was a distance between them, and how he didn't like it.

"For some reason, I want to scold you," his father started, "but I don't see any wrong thing that you did. You did what you could to protect her. Don't worry about it. Just prepare to grovel and she would be over it. Ow!" he said, holding his head in pain caused by the queen's hand.

"Men. You lot are fools. It surprises me how you carry out your daily activities." She said, scolding her father most especially. Looking sad, his father quietly pursed her lips. His mother finally turned his attention to him.

"I don't know what her back story is, but for her to be training as intensely as she is doing, that means there is something she wished to defeat. Firoza might be a powerful enemy,

but not even letting your love in on the plan to defeat her should she arrive, and going all the way

to call her close friend instead into the plan because she is a divine being, what do you think would be going on in her head?"

With his mother's picture painted so clearly, Calhoun saw what he had been missing since and had never felt as foolish as he did just then.

"I undermined her. I made it seem like, despite all her training, she is still too weak." He walked to his parent's bed and sat down slowly, bending his head towards his knees and placing his hands atop them.

"Ancestors! Oh, Ancestors! What have I done?" he said, feeling his heart shatter into a

million pieces. He felt the calm hand of his mother on his shoulders, but that didn't stop the feeling of fear that washed through him.

"I told her that I wanted to marry her. She said she would train so badly so that she can be on the same level as me. What I just said, what I said to her would make her think I was lying. That I was just saying it to make her happy. Oh, my ancestors, she may not want to marry me again." He quickly sat up and turned to face his parents. "I never meant to make her feel that way, I promise! I just wanted to protect her. Seeing you both in your room the way you were after her attack scared me. I didn't want the same for her. That was all that was in my head. I was

so overcome with protecting her that I never thought about what she wanted."

His mother beamed as she watched her son panic while his father smiled proudly. He

shifted a bit towards him and patted him on his back.

"What do I do?" Calhoun asked, panicking. He never panicked, and he didn't like the feeling.

"Well son," his father said, grinning mischievously. "It's about time you took lessons in grovelling. You are going to need it a lot."