Zoo (25 page)

The King waves him away, as if he couldn’t
care less about James’ presence at all. This leaves us alone with
the two servants that stand by the doors, pretending not to listen
to us.

“
Well, my dear. Where are
my manners? The young man failed to tell me your name.”

“
Emma.”

“
Hmm. Emma. I like that.
Well, Emma, once we are married you may call me Angus, but for now
you will refer to me as my Lord or my King,” he informs
me.

“
Yes, my King,” I
answer.
I’ll call him whatever he wants,
so long as he doesn’t put
my
head on a spike.

He smiles broadly. “Very good. Now, Cat,” he
calls over to one of the servants. “Cat, take the lady to her room
for the night, and bring her back here in the morning for
breakfast.”

The aged man named Cat, bows to his King and
gestures with an open arm for me to follow him. We climb the
staircase to the second floor where I had a bath earlier. He opens
a door for me directly across from the bathing room. Inside is a
large, four-poster bed with a heavy, plaid material curtained along
the top. The blanket matches, as well as the curtains that hang
over what I discover to be a fake window with a mural of the
valley. The only light in the room comes from the many candles
spaced along the walls. They’re sitting atop iron sconces.

“
Good evening, M’Lady,”
Cat says as he pulls the door shut behind him.

Since there is no real
window in this room, there’s no way out except the door into the
hallway. I try the handle, but of course it’s locked. Well, I guess
I’ll get a good night’s sleep so I can try to bust out of here
tomorrow. But before I rest, I decide to go over the room more
thoroughly, just in case there’s a secret door or something.
They have those in castles, right?

I squeeze under the bed and feel around.
Nothing. I hike my dress up so that I can crawl and scoot across
the stone floor. Nothing. I run my finger along the four stonewalls
that surround me. Nothing. The fake window proves to be just a fake
window—nothing more. I even shove the bed away from the wall. There
is nothing behind it.

Enough. I’ve been over every inch of this
room. The more difficult task turns out to be taking off my
agonizing dress. It’s actually impossible to do by myself, so I
have to beat on the door until someone answers my call.

Someone turns a key in the door, and pushes
it open a bit. Cat is standing in the hallway. “How may I help you,
M’Lady?” he asks.

“
I can’t get out of this
dress. Can you help me or send someone to help me? Please,” I
request.

“
Right away, M’Lady. Just
one moment while I fetch one of your lady’s maids.” He relocks the
door, and I can hear him shuffling down the hall in search of
help.

One of the women from earlier enters my
room. She patiently unties and loosens my corset enough for me to
squeeze out the torture device of a dress. She gathers it up in her
arms and says, “I’ll have another dress for you in the morning,
M’Lady.” Then she bows and leaves me in granny undergarments.
They’re pretty similar to what Victoria has under her dress; cotton
pants and an undershirt. I kind of feel like a pirate—one without
the floppy hat and sketchy bird perched on the shoulder.

I leave the candles burning in case I need
their light during the night. I climb into the higher than average
bed and wish for the night to be over, so I can find an opportunity
to escape back to Kale and Victoria. I miss them.

***

In what I suppose is the early morning, a
middle-aged woman, with her head covered in beige fabric, bursts
through the door to my bedroom. Light floods in behind her, so I’m
able to notice that all the candles have burned out and that the
woman is carrying a soft pink gown with silver embellishments. She
tosses the dress on the foot of the bed and says, “Good morning,
M’Lady. The King is expecting you to join him for breakfast in ten
minutes. Come now, let’s get dressed.”

“
I have to pee,” I blurt
out. It was so very unladylike of me, but whatever. I throw back
the covers and roll up into a sitting position, clutching my
abdomen so she’ll believe me.

“
But you have a chamber
pot, just there.” She points under my bed.

“
I am not using that
thing. Please bring me to a bathroom.” I used something that
resembled a toilet in the bathing room yesterday. Well, not really
a toilet per say, but it was better than a glass pot.

Reluctantly, she agrees. “Yes, yes. Right
this way. Across the hall. Come, come.” She’s trying to hurry me
along in fear that I’ll arrive late for my breakfast with the King
and she’ll be the one to answer for it.

I follow her to the door of my room. She
opens it wide and scurries across the empty hall to the room where
I took a bath. Instead of following her in, I spring down the
hallway. My bare feet slap the cold, gray stones that cover the
floor. “No, M’Lady! Come back!” my lady’s maid calls after me.

I fly down stairs toward the ground level,
taking them two at a time. Unfortunately, the King, James, and the
man named Cat are at the bottom of the landing. I turn to run back
up, but James grabs a hold of my cotton pirate pants. My feet fly
off the ground. Suddenly, my ass is in the air, and I’m clutching
to one of the stone steps with my hands, trying to pull myself
down. But the stone is too smooth and my hands slip away.

“
Trying to run away, my
dear?” the King asks me. Then he orders James to put me
down.

When James drops me, my shins hit the edge
of a step. Pain shoots through my legs, causing me to slump down to
the next step. I keep my head down so they won’t see my tear filled
eyes and have the satisfaction of causing me pain.

The King grabs a handful of my hair and
jerks my head back so that I’m looking into his cruel, green eyes.
“I don’t blame you for trying, but do it again and I won’t be so
forgiving,” he warns. He shoves my head forward and releases his
hold on my hair. “Now get dressed and return to me with a smile on
that pretty face of yours.”

I slowly start to rise, but stumble when my
injured legs give out. It hurts so bad that I’m actually nauseous.
Sweat forms on my brow. This is much worse than when I scraped my
butt sliding down the cliff.

My inability to get moving apparently angers
the King. He yells, “I said NOW!” Through my tears and pain, I pull
myself up and lean against the wall for support as I climb back up
the stairwell. “Make sure she listens this time,” he tells
someone.

I can hear his cowboy boots as he ascends
the steps behind me. I have to say something to James. I can’t help
myself. “I hate you.” Very original, I know, but it’s better than
nothing.

He chuckles. “You’re going to hate me even
more when you find out what I have in store for your
boyfriend.”

My stomach drops. “What are you talking
about?” We’ve reached the hallway upstairs. The servant woman is
waiting for me by the bathroom. She looks frazzled. I turn to face
James before I reach her. I wait for him to answer.

He smiles and casually leans against the
wall. No matter how physically handsome he is, he couldn’t be more
ugly to me than at this moment. Because at this moment, he reveals,
“Some of the guards caught your Mexican friend last night. He was
wandering around the castle. He didn’t even bother to bring a
weapon.” He chuckles. “I’ve got him locked up in the dungeon. We’re
going to stick him in the guillotine as a gift for the King on your
wedding day.”

All I see is red. I fly forward, nails
seeking his perfect face. One of them makes contact, and I tear at
his flesh as he struggles against me. James slams me against the
wall on the opposite side of the hallway.

All the while, my lady’s maid is screaming
somewhere to the side of us. “Don’t hurt her face! The King won’t
want her. Stop it!” She swats at James’ back.

James doesn’t pay her any attention. He’s
solely focused on me. He has my hands pinned to my sides, so I lash
out with my legs. I make contact, but I don’t hurt him. I’m only
aggravating him. He slides his hands up my arms and takes hold of
my biceps. He slams me against the hard wall—again and again—until
I fall unconscious.

HEADACHE

I feel like I might puke, once again. I
really hope I do—right on the table in front of the King. When I
woke up from being knocked unconscious, I was already dressed in
the fluffy, pink gown that I’d seen earlier. Someone had even
braided my hair in what felt like a crown wrapping around my
head.

After I was able to walk without falling
over, they finally allowed me to use the restroom before heading to
breakfast. However, the female servant had to accompany me into the
room and James stood, facing away, in the open doorway. I really
screwed up. Now I’m going to be watched like a hawk. How am I ever
going to get to Kale and get us out of here?

I smile at the King as egg yolk dribbles
down his red beard. He doesn’t notice it, or if he does, he doesn’t
care. I find myself scratching my chin, as I will him to clean
himself up.

“
My bride must have
manners. Stop that fidgeting,” the King demands, as he sprays more
yellow slime onto his chin.

I drop my hands into my lap and sit
quietly.

The King looks at me with mischievous eyes.
“Our James here has informed me of what his wedding gift to us will
be. Has he told you?” He’s very amused. His jolly laugh echoes
through the cavernous space like thunder trapped in a glass bottle.
He adds, “I suppose he has by that mark on his face, yes?”

“
Yes, my Lord.” I respond,
but barely.

“
It will certainly be good
entertainment.” He glances at me to see my reaction. “Now, now.
Don’t look so upset. You’ll be happy here. You’ll see. You will
never be without food or protection. Everything I have will be
yours. This is my kingdom.”

“
That’s not what I
heard.”
Oops.
I
probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.

The King thrusts his heavy, ornately carved
chair out from under him as he rises to his feet. He slams his fist
down on the table and shouts, “And what did you hear?”

“
I heard that all the real
tough guys are on the other side of the mountains.”

“
They’re over there
because I put them there! You will come to find that I will
tolerate a lot of things, but I will never have a woman speak to me
like that. Never! The next time you do, I’ll feed you to the pigs
like we’re going to do to your friend after we chop off his head.”
He storms out of the room nearly knocking over poor, old
Cat.

I laugh. A lot. Not at Cat’s misfortune, but
at my ability to piss off the King. Though it may not have been the
best idea—since I was planning on gaining his trust to weasel my
way out of here—I just couldn’t help myself.

I think I pissed James off as well, because
he slaps me across the face before he leaves the room. It brings
tears to my eyes, but I force myself to smile in spite of him. He
storms away from me.

Cat and I are alone now in the banquet room.
He totters over to me as I stare at my uneaten plate of breakfast
foods. “Are you okay, M’Lady?” he asks me. His face is grief
stricken. “Can I get you something for your face?”

I move my hand to my cheek. It’s warm to the
touch, but fortunately, it was only a slap. I’ll be okay soon
enough. “No. But thank you,” I say to the kind servant.

“
I need to escort you back
to your room now.” He bows his head and backs up, waiting for me to
stand and follow him.

We enter the hallway, which is flanked by
two guards with swords. They watch us as we approach the stairs.
They watch every single step I make, ready to pounce on me if I so
much as look like I might run. I obey the rules and follow along.
It takes Cat an eternity to climb the stone stairs, which is okay
with me since my shins still hurt. They have a perfectly straight,
purple line across each of them.

Deciding to make small talk, I ask him, “How
did you get a name like Cat?”

“
That is a good question,
M’Lady.” He draws in a deep breath as he pulls himself up to the
next step. “The King named me when I became his servant. He said
that any man that tries to kill himself so many times and keeps
coming back to life must be good luck. He named me Cat and kept me
close to him. I don’t think I’m good luck though. Those Keepers
just want to punish me.”

“
Oh. That’s terrible.”
Poor guy. I can see how this place might make you want to end it
all, and if I wasn’t so determined to get out of here I might
consider it myself. No, that’s not true. But I still feel for
him.

Once we reach my bedroom door, he opens it
wide and says, “Someone will be around later to bring you lunch.”
He reaches into his coat pocket. I back up instinctively, worried
he means to do me harm.

Cat’s wrinkled eyes crinkle up even more as
he smiles at me. He pulls out an old book from a pocket hidden
within his coat. The cover is worn and the corners are tattered. He
hands it to me and says, “Thought you could use something to occupy
your time. Don’t tell the King.” Then, he winks at me.

“
How did you get this?” I
haven’t seen a book since being here. I smile back at Cat as I read
the title of the book,
Emma
. I’ve never read this Jane
Austen book.

“
The houses in the valley
were stocked with books. The King trades weapons, fresh eggs, or
meat for them. He likes to read when he’s not decapitating people.”
Cat chuckles at his poor joke.