When the Mad Emperor Suddenly Becomes Sweet

56

With a start, Freya realized she was occupying Archer’s bed.

Archer said something but Freya couldn’t comprehend his words. Was he taking care of her while she was sick? When she was sick in the orphanage, all she had to do was lie somewhere, groaning in pain and delirium until her sickness passed. She’d never received medicine or treatment from anyone, she wasn’t used to it.

“You don’t know anything, do you?” He spoke in the silence around them.

Archer had been angry at Freya’s behavior, her fear of eating- or let alone sneeze. Her eyes would panic like those of a thief who’d been caught anytime he’d look at her eating food. Her eyes widened like a doe’s at every single movement of his, worrying he’d strike her.

Freya eyed the big man and thought, “He’s okay, even when he can be incredibly grumpy at times,” she thought to herself.

Archer looked back at her wearily. He was intent on remaining honest and avoiding trickery, if he’d had more decent parents and a better upbringing he wouldn’t have had trouble now. He sighed faintly, running his long fingers through his shaggy beard.

Freya remembered the moment Archer came to find her as clear as day. She couldn’t form the words out of lethargy but she was so glad to see him. For the first time, someone had come for her. Archer had bustled around her like an impatient hen, taking care of her. Freya smiled as she realized his manner was that of a nagging father. Not that she knew what it was like, she’d only seen slivers of it on the streets.

The friendly voice of a man who urged her gently, telling her to walk slowly and not run with food in her mouth. Archer’s voice mirrored his now, and Freya’s heart burst with happiness.

She reached her hand out like the manner of a needy child and ordered Archer, “I’m hungry, give me my bamboo bowl,”

Archer raised his eyebrow at her but gave her the bowl silently, and watched as she drank the broth from the bowl in an instant. “It is your first meal in three days, I’d drink slower if I were you,” He spoke slowly. Freya’s eyes widened at his words. “I have been unconscious for three days?” She spoke loudly. Archer narrowed his eyes at her, she wasn’t as well as he’d thought she was.

Freya had gotten over the shock over her predicament and ate the food gratefully, her stomach growling but satisfied. She took a few bites then looked at the man who nursed her back to health. “You know Archer, you’ve been naggy these days,” She said playfully, twirling her spoon as she watched the man break into an expected outburst. “Naggy? I’ve got gray hair because of you!” He spoke back, huffing as he shuffled around the room. Freya stifled a smile and got out of her bed slowly. “I have to rejoin work, I’ve missed a lot of days,” She muttered and felt her head spin, knowing she wasn’t yet physically well.

Archer was at her side at an instant, steadying her. “Your Highness likes his things to be neat,” He said, his voice tinged with disapproval. She needed to go back and he couldn’t stop her.

—-

Freya looked down and quickly wrapped a flyaway fabric under her pants, her sprained ankle had not healed yet. It was the second time she’d injured her ankle, having broken it once in the past. She grimaced as her ankle flared with the hot heat of pain. She ignored it and raised her head, looking around.

She stood in front of Lucius’ tent, her heart constricting as she sensed a different atmosphere. She knew he wasn’t there but she still felt nervous. She inhaled slowly and walked towards the tent, the soldier at the entrance lifting the tent flap for her as he recognized her.

Her eyes adjusted to the light in the tent as she realized everything was left as they were since the last time she was there. So it was true, he didn’t allow just anyone to walk inside.

With a huff, Freya gathered the clothes and shoes that lay on the ground astray. She mumbled to herself and she worked and cleaned the King’s tent. After a while, when the tent looked like it’d been set anew, Freya sat on a chair tiredly, having worn herself out. She realized a map was in front of her. Leaning forward, she ran her fingers over the ink. “So… this is the forest and that is the the-the battlefield,” She stuttered as the sights of that day flashed back at her. She shivered as she realized the extremity of the situation she’d been stuck in- viewing the dead piled up like mountains would’ve thrown her off the edge if she hadn’t experienced something similar earlier.

The lines between her memories blurred as she remembered the children dying at the orphanage and the soldiers taking the last breath stormed through her mind and she clutched her stomach. Shaking away those emotions, she stood back up to sweep the floor. Her ankle throbbed but she bore it with clenched teeth. Thanks to Sophia, she was used to working through her pain. She smiled to herself bitterly when the tent’s opening flapped and footsteps walked in.