Madeline who had not spoken much since the time she had entered the dining room, now looked at Calhoun, who took another serving from the food she had prepared. She frowned. It seemed like her plan to make him dislike what she had made had failed.

"Did you like the food?" asked Madeline, her words slow and apprehensive.

Calhoun, who was chewing the food in his mouth, stared at Madeline, swallowing the food after which his lips rose, "I loved it. I thought it was obvious with the amount I have eaten so far. Were you worried I wouldn't be happy with what you prepared?" he asked her as Madeline appeared to be upset.

But Madeline was upset for another reason. Not because she wanted him to like her cooking but because she had hoped he wouldn't, "I must say, I didn't expect you to have Sophie join in preparing the meal. Poor thing, look what you did to her," he tsked. The candles flickered that was placed on the hanging chandelier above the centre of the table.

"She was the one who wanted to cook-"

"When I asked you minutes ago, you said you were the one who asked her to cook along with you," stated Calhoun. He lifted his fork to pick up the meat and raised it for him to take a look, "You are a smart girl, Maddie. If you weren't, you wouldn't be sitting here at the table. Cooking the meat until it turns hard. Where's the tenderness in this?"

"I told I would prepare a meal as I used to have in the past. For my family," answered Madeline, and this widened Calhoun's smile on his lips.

"I wasn't ready for that. But if you are accepting me as your family, I shall not deny it. Surely I am not going to take anything less from being a lover to a husband," Calhouns' directness turned Madeline red.

"You think too far ahead, milord."

Madeline had to say that the King was an opportunist, who didn't leave a single moment pass by to turn it in his favour and liking.

"If I didn't, then I wouldn't be the King now, would I," Calhoun's words weren't a question to her, "It is good to see that we have moved our status so quickly."

She didn't react to his words but only stared at him. The more she spoke, the more she ended up in trouble; therefore Madeline had come to decide that silence was a good weapon when it came to dealing with Calhoun.

Noticing her silence, Calhoun couldn't stop but smirk, "Not talking to me?" he asked her, a spark in his eyes that could make anyone worry.

"It is told not to speak during the time of food," came the quick answer from Madeline, taking a full bite, she put it in her mouth to keep herself busy so that she wouldn't have to speak to the King.

"Such a good girl," Calhoun murmured. Madeline wasn't seated away from him but on his right side where all he would have to do was to lean forward to smell the sweet fragrance that wafted from the girl, "Don't think I don't know what goes in that mind of yours."

Those words instilled fear in her, at the possible thought that he could read her mind. But no, it wasn't possible, said Madeline to herself. If he knew the things that went in her mind- her family, her and James would be in trouble by now.

"I don't know what you are talking about," she wasn't sure what exactly he was speaking about.

"You knew I only wanted you to cook, yet you dragged the fool into it. Wanting to create a difference in the food," said Calhoun and Madeline's palms turned cold. Was it obvious? "The more you try to get away, the more it pulls me to you. It is not often that I get to eat something like this, so yes, it is delicious," he praised her, taking another bite from his plate.

He was right.

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She had hoped, but she should have known this person was crooked by nature and would like things one would consider not to like. But Madeline had never heard that the rich ever praised the food of the peasants. Like she had said to Sophie, the poor cooked to fill their stomach and not to impress like the rich who had minimal food on the plate which was mostly for decoration.

And as they ate, Calhoun said, "I have wanted to take an opinion from you. If there's someone out in the public who is trying to cross me, who is against me and trying to spoil something I am working on. What do you think would be a deem worthy punishment?" He picked up the glass next to him, sipping from it.

Madeline looked at Calhoun, wondering what his question meant and who it was for, "I don't think I can judge what the punishment has to be, if I don't know what the severity of mistake has been made."

"True," agreed Calhoun, "Consider hypothetically that someone is trying to take my kingdom away from me. Like a possible relative, who I thought would comply that I would take care of the Kingdom. But he feels I am unfit for it. Without even waiting to see if I can rule it better than anyone else. And I love Devon."

Madeline wondered who this relative was that had crossed Calhoun, "Is it the person who tried to poison you?" she asked to see him smile.

"It is a hypothetical question. What do you think should be the punishment?" his eyes crinkled at the sides as he waited for her to answer his question, "Take your time," he said, raising his glass and drinking everything that was in there. It seemed like with every hour that was passing between them, the thirst he felt only grew, and his eyes moved from her eyes to look at her neck and the little amount of shoulder that he could see.

With Madeline next to him, all he had to do was pull her to his side and do what would please him right now.

The thought of the little note brought back the fire in his eyes, and anger that didn't extinguish even after the short nap he had on the couch, that led to his irritated mood. Who would have thought that Mrs. Harris was ready to sacrifice her happiness for her daughter's sake?

When you thought someone was good, they always happened to let you down, thought Calhoun to himself. The woman had gone as far as to writing a letter and telling Madeline could flee away from here if needed and it internally made Calhoun chuckle. If Madeline was to flee, she would be back to where Calhoun was, and he would not let her go. The question he posed in front of her was twisted in regards to what happened. The Kingdom was Madeline, and the relative was her mother.

Calhoun asked her, "What is it going to be?"

"Warn the person?" asked Madeline, who was unaware of what was going on in his mind.

"And what shall I do if that relative doesn't understand it?" his tongue moved to run across the front of his teeth.

With the way Calhoun was looking at her, Madeline worried, "I don't know. You are the King," she tossed the dice back to him. She had never thought to punish someone, and she didn't want to be responsible for someone's death.

"That's not the answer I am looking for," his eyes were slightly narrowed.

"I don't think my answer is what you are looking for," she replied to bring out the amused smile on his lips.

"If you know what I am looking for, then give it to me." Madeline picked up the glass of water and took in a sip. She wasn't sure anymore if they were speaking about the same matter, "So thirsty, let me pour you another glass of water," Calhoun said and before she could reach for the jug, he took hold of it and poured the water.

His gaze was burning into her, and Madeline couldn't sit still. She finished drinking the water and placed the glass back on the table. He looked at her like she was the only thing in the room and he caught every movement of hers. When his gaze finally returned to his plate,

"I finished eating," Madeline said, bowing her head to get up from the chair as quietly as she could but the chair didn't stop to screech against the floor because of her hasty movements.

But Madeline didn't make it too far. Just when she was about to reach for the door, she saw Calhoun place his hand on the door to stop her from opening it,

"How rude to be leaving the table when the King has not finished his meal," came his words from behind her.

"Theodore will be here to join you, you can h-" she stopped speaking when she felt Calhoun step closer to her where she could feel his breath behind her ear and she shivered.

"He won't be returning back to the dining room," said Calhoun, every breath of his word falling on her skin. He purposely moved close to her, "Are you really done eating?"

"Yes," she whispered, feeling her nerves starting to jitter.

"Sweet," replied Calhoun as another hand came to fall on another side of her, "Because it is time for my actual meal."

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