180 Stemmed emotions- Part 1

"W-were you serious?" asked Madeline, her eyebrows drawn together and her hand unconsciously touched the side of her neck where Calhoun had bitten her. 

"What do you think?" he asked her back. His gaze moved from the front to turn to look at her. His face serious, the shadow falling on the left side of his face that made the atmosphere around her that much serious. 

Madeline, like the rest of the people in the village, had heard many stories. By what she had heard, the last King and Queen had been killed because of some tragedy that had taken place due to the attack made by the neighbouring kingdom. Calhoun was dropping the information out of the blue and her head started to reel. 

"Why?" her question came out as a whisper in the room when it was just Calhoun and her. 

A dangerous grin broke through his lips, and he said, "Because I always wanted to kill them."

She didn't know what to make out of it. Madeline had tried to figure out, the relationship of Calhoun through Lucy to realise, that out of the previous King and the Queen, one of them was Calhoun's parent. But she didn't know who it was. When Madeline had entered the castle, her thoughts were filled with nothing but wanting to escape from the castle, from here, from the King so that she could go and continue the life she belonged to. 

They hadn't spent many days together, but staying around Calhoun had made her curious enough to want to know what Calhoun's story was. Why he was the way he was right now, or if it was his inherent nature—cruel yet sometimes gentle with her. 

She waited for him to speak. She watched Calhoun staring back at her, the smile faltering on his lips to take the form of the seriousness he previously held on his face. 

"Why did you kill them?" she asked, unable to keep her burning curiosity to herself. Calhoun was taking his own time in gauging her expression. 

Calhoun looked as if he gave some thought over it, and he said, "When the stem of hate is strong, it is hard not to want to get rid of those people you despise."

Madeline was someone who loved her parents dearly. It was hard for her to relate to Calhoun's hate towards the King and Queen. But his story was different, "Didn't people know about it?"

"What happened to your mother?" she asked. The previous King's who had ascended the throne so far, had never made an appearance openly to the people, who belonged to the lower status like her and her family. 

"She killed herself," Calhoun smiled, and Madeline didn't know what to say or how to react to it, "It was a long time ago. When my father was the King, he married Lucy's mother, who was incapable of giving birth to a child for a long time. You know how impatient people get after a couple of tries. At the same time, my mother was taken in as a mistress of the King. But she was kicked out of the castle by the King's grandmother."

Madeline's lips pursed at the thought of it. She had heard about this. Many stories often came to be heard about the castle and court life, not just about the King or the Queen. Of how men took mistresses in the name of wanting to have an offspring. The girls were often too young who could barely be able to bear a child that would often lead to a stillborn or miscarriage. 

"Why did she get kicked out of the castle?" asked Madeline, "Didn't she have the King's protection?" That was the least one would expect from the King, but many didn't take responsibility for their debauchery. 

Calhoun laughed in dry humour at Madeline's innocent question,

"Mistresses don't get protection, not when the Queen is present. People don't welcome the thought of the mistresses in the castle even though it is allowed," he answered her, "The King didn't bother with it. People get bored easily. No matter how wonderful a person is, one day you will come to see the thing or person to be something ordinary. Then seek for a fresh one, something that will excite and tingle your thoughts. The King was involved in getting my mother thrown out of the castle because he was bored, and my mother was forced to leave; not knowing that she was pregnant." 

"The royal family were unaware of the growing child in her stomach, and when the time came, she gave birth to me in a village. She lived for a few years before killing herself out of heartbreak. She had tried to speak to the King, and I can only tell how much of a fool she was," tched Calhoun. Madeline didn't know how Calhoun was speaking so calmly about his mother because her own heart ached for the way his mother was mistreated, "I grew up, away from the castle for some more years. In the meantime, sweet mother Queen was unable to give a male child to the King. It must have been my mother's curse. Because no matter how many other women he beded, all their children died before they could be born," Calhoun smiled, his eyes twinkling maliciously.

"But you turned to a King," said Madeline for him to nod. 

Madeline would have never guessed that something like this had happened to Calhoun's mother. The stories of the debauchery that ran in the castle was heard outside the walls. There were only a few stories that ever came to be heard of the women who were the King's mistresses. 

The sad part was that many young girls agreed to it. Indulging themselves with men who were already married, in the hope to replace the wife and to take the place of the new position. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't. 

"That is because the King couldn't have an offspring. When the previous Queen finally gave birth to a baby, to the Crown's disappointment, the baby turned to be a girl."

"Lady Lucy," murmured Madeline.

"Yes, Lucy. After some time, he decided to bring me back into the castle. I was his only heir," Calhoun's lips twisted, his tongue going to play with his teeth, feeling the sharpness, "The King and the Queen, along with my lovely grandmother, they decided to mould me into what they would want as a puppet."

When Calhoun paused, she asked him, "How old were you when you entered the castle?" 

"Probably eighteen or nineteen? It is hard to keep count of the years when you are a vampire. Age turns to be insignificant but not time," stated Calhoun. Madeline didn't understand what he meant by that. 

She didn't know how age worked when it came to the vampires. It was because the mortality of humans was less while for vampires; it was more. 

Before Calhoun could go on, Madeline had started to question, in her mind of what might have happened for him to kill the King and Queen. It also made her question how he was still here, as the King, because killing the royals was nothing less to treason. It was the highest treason one could commit, so how did Calhoun get away with it? 

Calhoun turned back his eyes to look at the flaming fire, and she heard him speak, 

"The first few years, I listened, and I watched. Then I learned," he paused for a second before continuing, "Lucy was still a young and small girl. Growing up, therefore she didn't hear much of what happened, but she did get some idea. When you are in the castle and around high profile people, you don't speak about the mistresses. At least not the old one's who are useless."

Carefully, she asked, "Did your father ever bring up your mother with you?"

It would be strange not to, thought Madeline to herself. 

"No. He didn't care about it," came the calm answer from Calhoun. 

The woman died, killed herself, and the previous King didn't even care...Madeline didn't know how much she was allowed to question to know more about Calhoun because it was something personal.

"And after some years of careful planning, I first killed my dear grandmother. I wanted to keep her for some time, but at the same time, I could not stand the sight of her. You should have seen her," Calhoun laughed, twirling the glass of wine that was in his hand before he took another sip from it, "I put a rusted rod right through her mouth."