Chapter 7 Lunch with the king
Freya blinked. "Thank you. I am truly honored."
She glanced at the meal spread before them.
The saying "a meal fit for a king" suddenly made sense.
The table was covered with more food than she had ever seen at once. Fresh fruits, roasted meat, delicate pastries, and countless dishes filled every space.
She stared in disbelief.
"Do you like it?"
"Huh? Yes. It's beautiful," Freya stammered, her shoulders still tense.
Caspian noticed her hesitation and offered a warm, reassuring smile.
"You don't need to be afraid of the food, Freya. Or of me. I promise you a lunch, not an interrogation. Please, relax. There is no protocol here. Just eat whatever pleases you."
She smiled. "Thank you, Sire. This is truly an honor."
"Caspian," he corrected gently.
She blinked. "My King?"
"Call me Caspian," he said. "When we are alone."
Freya hesitated, surprised by the request.
"I don't think I should."
A faint amusement appeared in his eyes. "Why not?"
"Because you are the King."
Caspian leaned back slightly, a quiet laugh escaping his lips.
"And right now, I am just a man sharing a meal with my guest. Besides, 'Sire' and 'Your Majesty' make me feel centuries older than I already am. I would prefer to hear my name."
Freya stared at him for a moment, wondering if she was dreaming. The feared Lycan King was asking her to call him by his name.
"Okay... Caspian," she said softly.
A look of satisfaction crossed his face.
"Good."
He picked up his glass before looking back at her.
"Is the meal to your liking?" he asked. "I hope everything is as you expected."
"Yes, thank you. You'd think my entire village was having a feast," she said quietly.
Caspian looked at her, amused.
"Is it too much?"
Freya quickly shook her head.
"No. I just..." She looked back at the table. "I have never seen so much food prepared for one meal before."
A faint smile tugged at Caspian's lips.
"Then you will have to get used to it. Because we will be dining more often."
Her eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing.
The meal passed quietly after that.
The silence between them was not uncomfortable. It was only broken by Caspian’s gentle questions about the dishes before her.
When they had finished, Caspian leaned back and picked up his cup of wine.
"I hope you enjoyed the meal," he said.
Freya smiled softly, feeling more at ease than she ever thought possible in a king's presence.
"I did. Thank you, Your... I mean, Caspian."
Hearing his name slip from her lips made something warm stir deep inside his chest, but he kept his expression perfectly calm.
"Thank you once again for saving my life and inviting me into your home," she said softly, her eyes shining with genuine gratitude.
Caspian looked at her for a moment.
"You are welcome, Freya."
She hesitated, then looked down at her hands.
"How long..." she asked quietly. "How long will I stay here?"
Caspian's expression softened.
"I don't want you to go."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Freya looked up in surprise.
For a brief moment, even Caspian seemed caught off guard by his own honesty.
He cleared his throat.
"I mean... you are still recovering. The castle is the safest place for you right now."
"I understand," she said softly, though a part of her wasn't ready to leave either.
Caspian misunderstood the look on her face.
"I won't force you to stay," he said gently. "But... I would like it if you did."
Before Freya could answer, a soft knock echoed through the room.
A royal guard stepped inside and bowed.
He walked over to the king and whispered an urgent message into his ear.
Caspian's expression tightened as the weight of his royal duties settled over him once more.
He gave a single nod, dismissing the guard.
The guard bowed again before quietly leaving the room.
Caspian set down his cup and rose from his seat.
Freya stood as well.
"I have a council meeting," he said, holding her gaze. "My guard will escort you back to your room."
He gave Freya one last look before turning toward the council chamber. A royal guard stepped forward and escorted Freya back to her room.
When she reached her chambers, Iris helped her out of the gown, talking excitedly the whole time.
"But Freya barely heard a word."
Her thoughts were elsewhere.
She could still hear Caspian's voice.
"I don't want you to go."
A small smile found its way onto her lips before she quickly brushed it away.
Why did those words affect her so much?
She had only known him for a short time.
Yet somehow, whenever he looked at her with those golden eyes, her heart refused to stay calm.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
Iris frowned.
"I'll get it."
She hurried to the door and opened it.
A young maid stood outside, bowing respectfully.
"My Lady," she said, looking past Iris to Freya. "Her Highness The Queen, requests your presence in her chamber."
Freya looked up in surprise.
The Queen wants to see her?
She exchanged a quick glance with Iris. She couldn't shake an uneasy feeling growing inside her.
"Very well," Freya said quietly. "I'll come right away."
A few moments later, she followed the maid through the long palace corridors toward the Queen's chambers, unaware that the meeting waiting for her would be far less welcoming than the lunch she had just shared with Caspian.
The maid stopped in front of a pair of tall wooden doors.
She knocked twice.
"Your Highness, Lady Freya is here."
A calm voice came from inside. "Send her in."
The maid opened the door and stepped aside.
Freya took a deep breath before walking in. The room was elegant, with tall windows overlooking the palace gardens. Queen Maravelle sat gracefully on a velvet chair, a cup of tea resting on the table beside her. Selene stood quietly beside her.
Freya lowered herself into a respectful curtsy.
"Your Highness."
Before she could straighten, Maravelle strode across the room, without saying a word and slapped her hard across the face.
The force from the blow sent Freya stumbling to the floor.
