You are the king’s chambermaid.

It’s a great honour, even if you’re just scrubbing floors all the time. He’s a fair ruler. You could not think of a better king, nor man, to serve.

He chats to you sometimes, in his soft and muffled voice. He always wears the silver, expressionless mask—but his eyes are mirthful and soft.

And then one day, you tell him that you are to be married soon, to the butcher’s son. The king’s eyes don’t look so fond anymore.

They’re narrowed and hard. He seems irate.