Blake, The Vampire King

6. A Dying Man

 “I’m here, old man,” was Blake’s greeting as he entered his father’s guarded bedchamber.

“Hello,” Maria let out ever so softly. “I hope you’re well your majesty.”

Stupid, stupid thing to say Maria! She inwardly admonished herself. Well, she was nervous beyond reason. She didn’t even know why. Was it because it was her first time in his bedchamber despite the years?

A small smile decided to grace the king’s pained features. He looked disturbingly old and noticeably weak. Maria inwardly grimaced at the sight, and when she looked up into her mate’s face, it was impassible. Blake’s emotions were guarded.  

“Come here, child.” The king rasped. 

Maria didn’t believe anyone was fool enough to call her mate child, and thus she approached his bed.

“You too, Blake.”

Her mate obliged his father’s wish.

“Did you know? You two are perfect for one another. You complement one another.” He told them in a tone that spoke volumes of his admiration for what they had.

“You really think so, your majesty?” Maria’s eyes shone with happiness.

She had always known her father in law as a cold man. It was a welcome change to see him like this, even if it was because he was sick.

Blake patted her head affectionately at that. “Don’t be silly, cara. We were made for each other. No wonder we belong together.”

“I am a dying man,” the king let out in a tone that left room for no debate. “I’ll die happy, however, for in death I was able to conjure up an image of your mother’s face again.” He said, addressing his son.

“Really?” Maria’s eyes now shone with unshed tears. Blake had told her his mother had wiped his memory clean of their time together. It was then no wonder she was astonished.

“She was beautiful.” The king’s smile faltered seconds later as he started to cough violently. When he finished, a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. He took a handkerchief from his bed side table and wiped his forehead with difficulty.

“She was,” Blake confirmed wistfully before he announced, “We should leave him to rest, cara.”

“Please take care of this grumpy royal known as the troublemaker,” came the king’s plea.

Maria nodded at him, a rueful smile stretching her lips. “Will do.”