The king was ugly. From his massive frame, his height and his long legs to the dark eyes that peered out from behind the mask, Malyn had imagined him to be more handsome than he actually was. She had thought so even after seeing the portraits of the former king and queen in the corridor. If he resembled those portraits, she’d assumed he must be handsome.

But the deeds and looks of high-ranking people are often wrapped in layers of embellishment. After the duel, Malyn had thought about the painter who must have added those flattering touches to the royal portraits. For those of lesser status, even if they were blameless, they were forced to apologise on their knees, and even then they had to end by praising their rulers.

“It seems the late king was quite ashamed of his child.”

“Be silent! Even the child of a witch knows to be careful when talking about her parents!”

“Wow.”

Malyn sneered indifferently.

“Here stands the child of a witch, and I never held back when it came to my parents.”

She’d torn up the memento she’d once been mocked for risking her life to keep, gritting her teeth to keep the king’s attention.

But the mockery ended there. Malyn still couldn’t bring herself to openly admit that her mother had been a witch; to do so would not only reveal her mother’s status, but also mean a death sentence for herself. Even with the King’s heart in her grasp, she still feared the execution block.

So she changed the subject.

“If that’s the case, were you the one who did this?”

“Yes.”

The king nodded, gritting his teeth. Though he still covered his face, his hands had lost their strength. Malyn looked at him – his face filled with a mixture of inferiority, anger and shame.

“I never wanted to live with a face like this.”

He murmured, confessing that he had suffered a high fever at birth. Although he had survived, he had lost his nose and the contours of his face had become more pronounced. It was a confession, but it sounded as if he was blaming others for something that was no one’s fault. The late king had killed the midwife and the maid who had failed to take proper care of the future king, but his face had never been restored.

She didn’t know when he first wore the mask, but she knew that anyone who had seen his face was dead. The late king had ruthlessly ensured that no lords ever saw the prince’s face. The king grew up in the shadows, forced to face others while shrouded in darkness.

A tree that grows in the shade has a hard time growing straight.

And so King Veldam carved mistrust into his growth rings. Just as a tree thickens with time, so did his mistrust. When the former king and queen died, he realised that he was the only one left who knew his true face.

But a man who has nothing but mistrust cannot suddenly love, for no one knows his face. He brought many maids to his bedchamber only to send them away, and the princesses became ill at the thought of marrying him. He tore the bodies of servants to feed the dogs and broke the arms of knights.

“What do you want?” the king asked, his eyes wide and wild.

In that moment, as Malyn looked into his eyes, she realised that even if he lived on, he would never find the queen he desired, nor would he ever have a child. No matter how much she begged for a child, he would never make her his queen, nor would he ever give her a child.

Even at this moment, he couldn’t be honest. Covering his unattractive face with both hands, he looked at her with a threatening air.

“You want gold and jewels? Ah, that’s right. You wanted the position of queen. I’ll give it to you. I’ll send a hundred horses to Dion. I’ll even send enough grain to get you through the winter. Will that be enough?”

A hundred horses. It was an extravagant offer. For a former maid at Dion Castle, who had once earned a single gold coin a year, it was an unimaginable sum. If Layla had been in her place, would she have accepted the offer? Malyn looked at the king and smiled weakly.

It didn’t matter to her. She wasn’t Layla, she was Malyn.

“So this is the price for my silence?”

“Yes.”

“And you have no intention of having a child?”

The king’s eyes narrowed over his hands.

“You… you’re quite beautiful. But… what if the child you bear looks like me?”

“Well, I wonder. Are you afraid?”

Malyn asked a question to which she already knew the answer. The king gasped and his answer was written all over his face. He feared the birth of a child and the inevitable moment when his mask would be removed. A shiver ran down Malyn’s spine. She hadn’t really wanted a child, she had just been curious to see how deep his ugliness ran.

“That’s fine then. I have no desire to bear your child either.”

“Yes… yes. But why?”

The king seemed to understand, then his eyes hardened.

“I see. It must be because you’ve seen my face. I knew it… That’s why I won’t take off my mask…”

The king rambled on with empty words, and Malyn felt her irritation grow.

“It’s nothing at all.”

“What did you say?”

“Don’t act like the world’s going to end just because you’re missing a nose. You’re a king-ah!”

Malyn’s taunt was cut short when the king grabbed her by the hair.

“You wretch!”

He struck her head with his hand, his touch very different from the one in bed. This time it was filled with real malice, a desire to kill.

“Ah!”

Malyn gasped, releasing her grip on the bell. The king’s eyes were wide and angry.

“If you wanted to make demands, you wouldn’t have tried to call for help!”

As a king skilled in reading the motives of powerful lords, he had sensed that Malyn had never intended to pull the bell in the first place. Malyn was thrown to the ground and he beat her mercilessly. He climbed on top of her, smashing her head and face. She couldn’t even scream.

“A spoiled princess, pretending to know everything! Spreading your legs like a common wh*re and then acting arrogant as if a piece of leverage would make you the winner!”

The king continued to beat her, panting heavily. Malyn couldn’t defend herself – he was much bigger and stronger than her. He picked up a chair and threw it at her. A loud crash echoed as the shards of the chair hit her face.

“You wretch, I’ll kill you.”

And who here really knows nothing? She thought bitterly. If she really were a witch’s daughter, she’d use all her magic to kill him on the spot. She regretted not ringing the bell.

“Did you really think I’d make you my queen? Really?”

The king’s eyes were wild, almost unhinged. He grabbed her by the collar of her dress and slapped her across the face, causing her cheek to swell instantly.

“You, with your arrogance! A worthless thing like you – I will kill you right here and leave you for the crows to eat! Become queen? Not have my child? Ha!”

“…Ah…”

A small sound escaped Malyn’s throat. She looked up at him with blurred vision. The king, ready to strike her again, paused, grinning strangely as he watched her, curious to hear what she was about to say.

“Do you have anything to say?”

“Let me…”