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17
Melissa Spatiatis. “No…you are the king.” “This is wrong.” I say to him, moving my head in disapproval. My hands, usually warm and nimble, now feel clumsy and numb. I clutch the edges of the blanket across my bosom, staring at the fire. Every breath I take feels like I’m inhaling shards of ice, sending a shiver down my spine. My teeth chatter uncontrollably, and I put my hands on my lips to hide it. “Oh, it is wrong to save your life?” He says, staring at me in confusion and I raise my eyes to meet him. “You know what I mean...” I say, closing my eyes and not being able to complete my sentence. The chill seeps through every layer of blanket, penetrating deep into my bones and I cannot stand anymore. The king reaches his hands out to me, and I look at his face before I take it. It is s
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