The blond maid took a long breath and after so seconds of ntal preparation, she felt ready to knock on the King's room door.
"I said I didn't want to be disturbed." His voice thundered, and she collected all the courage in her body to find the voice to reply. "Miss Roselyn required to bring you a cake. She insisted."
The maid heard him complaining in a low voice and after a few minutes of not receiving any answer; she sighed, abandoning herself at the resignation he would not open the door. She took a step in turning over.
The blond girl heard a rumor, and she turned around; the door was slightly opened.
She carefully and quietly opened the door wide enough to allow her to walk in to place the cake and the note Roselyn left on the table near his bed. She kept her gaze down and rushed out. Closing the door behind her, she took a breath of relief.
The King, as soon as she left, lifted the note and read it.
'My mom used to make a triple chocolate mousse for your father. This may not taste the sa, but I hope it will be enough to bring you back to the cheerful tis of your life. I hope you are fine.
-Lady Roselyn'
He didn't expect her to do such a gracious gesture, and he appreciated her kindness. Despite that, he let the cake on the table to be back to read his files and docunts. His plan was more important than a cake.
Browsing through the papers that contained every information about his father and his ruling to try to find sothing that may have hurt so inhabit so much to indulge him into murdering him. Nobody had ever seen before his enemy, as he was considered a mysterious creature of nature undefinable.
After the third ti, he read the papers but couldn't notice anything weird he heard his stomach growling.
So he headed toward the table on which was placed the cake and cut a slice of it to taste it.
When he took a big bite of it, thousands of mories imploded in his mind, rembering the familiar taste of three different types of chocolate and the softness of Roselyn's mother's cake.
He smiled unintentionally and felt glad to Roselyn for having had that idea. It was like for so seconds he flew back ti. He could picture his father's smile while he enjoyed that cake and all the argunts they had about which cake they liked more, according to their tastes. During the weekends they even used to do challenges about who could eat more. Needless to say that John was the one to win because of his supernatural nature.
He smiled at the cheerful mories he lived all together; he wanted to thank Roselyn for having allowed him to. He thought about thanking her by inviting her there and taste the cake. Although his idea preoccupied him as he considered a weakness to be that gently toward the lady. However, after a brief reflection, he decided to do the right thing.
He called the blond maid back into the room and asked her to bring Roselyn there.
When the maid heard his request, catching her completely off guard her jaw dropped, John who noticed her surprise ant imdiately clarified his intentions, "I just want to thank her and I don't think I will be able to finish all the cake by myself." He justified his rare kindness, and the maid pretended to believe his words and nodded.
After about ten minutes Roselyn knocked on the door. He opened the door to her and she quietly walked in like she was walking among fire pits.
When he smiled, she felt reassured. For a second she feared he would get mad at her.
He gestured for her to enter. His room was double the side of her room. It had two tables and one imnse bed on which two families could easily sleep there altogether.
He gestured to one table, and she sat on the chair; the maid gave her a supportive glance before walking out.
"I thought you would like to taste it." He said, sitting near her.
"Can I?" Her voice ca out as a squeak, so she pretended to have a lump in her throat to hide her uncomfortably. The reason behind her uneasiness was that she was feeling under pressure and very agitated.
He nodded. She took his fork and cut a piece from the ca, then put it in her mouth.
She smiled after swallowing that tasteful cake. "Very good." She comnted, having him took a laugh.
"Your mother's one was very similar. This cake and the mories correlated slipped out of my mind. Thanks to your idea I lived once again Pleasuring mories of my fathers and I sharing breakfasts." He admitted. His eyes were looking sad as he rembered his father, and his voice was almost trembling.
"He was lucky to have a son who loved him so much," Rosalyn said her words were genuine.
His gaze lowered down, his eyebrow knitted. A line ford, sculpturing his prominent jaw.
"He died because of ." He confessed his voice was broken, and he choked before finishing the sentence as his mouth dried.
Rosalyn wanted to ask why, but she remained silently staring at his vulnerability.
His eyes filled with tears, but he looked up to drive them away. "we were supposed to have a eting together, and I was late. I arrived with few minutes late and found him dead. My mind keeps hunting with the thought that maybe if I was on ti he would still be alive."
Roselyn was hooked when she heard his words. She felt sorry for him and her gaze darted, searching for his gaze. "He wouldn't be happy to hear you're feeling guilty for his death. Maybe both of you would have been gone by now or worse you would be the one who died." She tried to rationalize her thoughts, but his head shook in denial.
"I would have been happier if I was the one who took his place."
Roselyn's heart pounded in her chest upon hearing his sentence. He must be so hurt to say such a terrible thing.
"How can I make you feel better?" she asked.
He t her gaze; he leaned closer to her and caressed gently her exposed cheek; it was warm at his cold touch and Roselyn leaned closer, laying her head on his hand.
"You've already done enough." He said, his lips curved up in a generous smile.
"By accepting to help take care of the Kingdom." He continued, his gaze felt on her lips making Rosalyn feel a thrill run through her body.
She found herself longing for his touch, craving to move closer.
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