Crouching low with the food cradled in her hand, Mica's eyes fell warily to the container and her sauce stained fingers which gripped it tight.
She chewed the food slowly and, to her chagrin, it was good.
Better than good.
He had brought for her a curry with pieces of boneless chicken inside, a side of rice whiter than snow and a small clay pot of cool water.
Focus on the food, she told herself, focus on the food.
She ate more cautiously now, aware of the blind eyes fixed on her across the river. She had chosen to sit by the river bank while eating only for him to appear quiet as smoke on the other side.
The distance of water between them dulled the tension, but not the strangeness of being watched—hovered over—while she ate
Mica swallowed her food and raised her voice, "Are you just going to stand there and watch me eat?" His head tilted to the side and she corrected herself, "I meant... listen... to me, eat."
The heat bloomed in her chest and his voice spoke, low and unhurried.
… have you decided...
"Have I decided what?"
… if you will follow me…
Mica looked back at her food, suddenly fascinated by the type of grain. She spooned a mouthful and chewed slowly as her eyes flicked to his patient self.
She gripped the container and whispered, "I don't know."
He had asked her the same question the previous night while she was still trapped in his coat, and it had left her floored.
Follow him?
The immediate answer had been a no, primarily because he was not human.
He was a beast; an ancient deity, a Lycanthrope; the rumored creature of the night that ruled a kingdom that traversed the oceans with an ironfist.
He was cold, ruthless, and vicious.
Yet he stood on the other side of the bank feeding her as though she were a fragile thing.
Mica squinted at him, "Why."
The King angled his head, a strand of silver slipping over his cheek.
"Why do you want me to follow you?"
All was silent, and then he smiled— the corners of his mouth curved enough to show pointed edged teeth that concealed a secret.
… what do you have left, my little lamb…
"What?"
… have a look around…
And she did obediently, scouring her vicinity with a blank stare that failed to perceive what he was trying to relay. Until she did.
Here she was abandoned in the middle of the woods by the same people that had sworn to protect her; her family had sold her for twelve silver coins and the council refused her re-entry back into the place.
She had no home, no people and no source of income.
If anything she was alive because of him. He was sustaining her out of mercy and a concealed desire to have her for unknown reasons.
The next bite of food was cold in her mouth.
"No." She whispered while wiping her fingers on her thighs and rising up.
"I don't… I'm not…" her breath was unsteady and she took a breath, "I'm heading elsewhere… there's more human territories up north that could take me in."
And with that she left him standing there.
… Mica…
She stopped but didn't turn back when he spoke, low and sure.
… the next time you ask me for something, know you have chosen your path…
_______________________________________________________________
The night had gnawed at her resolve, and by the end of it she was questioning if she had made the right decision.
The sound of thunder made her flinch and moments later petrichor filled the air. With a tired groan she rolled into the corner and sunk into her jacket listening to the heavy sound of rain pattering on the rooftop.
Sleep came in bits and pieces and by the time morning arrived dark crescents smudged the bottom of her eyes and she was pale.
"You'll find others… there's a lot more people out there…"
She muttered while approaching the door already expecting the King to have left food for her at the entrance, "It's only a few miles from here, I think."
When she opened the door and glanced down to see nothing, her mind blanked and her stomach dropped like a stone.
The realization that he had not brought any food for her after faithfully doing so for the past few days left a desolate feeling in her.
And suddenly she understood what he meant when he asked her to look around, for it wasn't by her own strength that sustenance was drawn but by His.
"No, don't think like that."
Stepping out she wandered about the cabin in a circle just to confirm that he hadn't left food in any corner. But there was none.
"You don't need him. You don't. He was going to kill you anyway."
Yet he chose to spare your life.
By the time the sun had risen to the center of the sky, Mica acquainted herself once more with hunger and thirst.
She sat by the doorstep gazing out into the woods debating on whether she should leave right now or wait a little longer.
Wait for who?
"Just go."
She urged her legs forward though trepidation made her stomach queasy though she didn't make it far when the familiar heat bloomed in her throat and she heard His voice much clearer than her own heartbeat.
… go left…
Her body had an inclination to his command despite the unwillingness of her mind. She pivoted to the left and continued walking as if drawn forward by an invisible string.
A few minutes later, just as she was about to question her sanity, the forest cleared to reveal a large powerful stallion with a hide as dark as the blackest night. Its eyes were hellish red and its large nostrils flared wide as when it smelled her.
Mica stopped and looked around.
She began to take an uneasy step back from the odd-looking creature when her back hit something.
She braced herself and whirled around lightning fast only to stare right into the cloak of the King. His hair was slicked back with something wet and those milky eyes gazed down at – through – her.
For a wild moment Mica felt a flood of relief crash over her.
"Oh," she muttered shifting her weight and glancing away, "didn't think you'd be back."
She shrugged, "I just thought, you know," she waved about aimlessly, "you left me or something…"
When he didn't reply she crossed her arms and added, "not that it matters, I was headed to the human territory."
The king tilted his head about as if scouring the land before lingering someplace. His brow arched gently … wrong direction …
Her cheeks grew hot and she sputtered, "How would you know? It's not like you can see."
If long suffering had an image, it would be his.
… do you know where it is…
"No."
The emphasis in her lack of knowledge made her silent. She shifted from one foot to the next and her stomach growled in turn. Mica sighed and kicked at the path mindlessly. She knew what she wanted to say, and feared he did too, but getting to the point made it near impossible.
Still she tried.
"So, do you… do you have anything to eat?"