Music Box

The next time they saw each other, they stole away into Artemisia's private quarters where no discretion or reservation was required of them. The moment the door locked behind them, they were entangled, kissing with a restless hunger that left them both dizzy and breathless. Artemisia's hands clawed at the buttons at the back of Callie's dress, letting it slip unceremoniously to the floor so she could get closer to the lovely figure beneath. Even as they fell back against the bed, Callie didn't really understand what they were doing; she only knew that it satisfied an empty, broken part of herself that she thought would always ache with hunger pangs. She straddled Artemisia's hips as she trailed kisses down her throat and stroked her thighs under her petticoat. She unhooked her corset busk so Artemisia could run her hands up under her chemise, feeling her true, unaltered form. She never realized how badly she wished for human contact or how much she ached to be touched.

But then Artemisia laid her back on the bed and simply laid down beside her, propping her head up in one hand as she stroked Callie's face with the other. "I think we should slow down," she said softly, "I didn't expect you to be this eager."

A blush crossed over Callie's face as she glanced away bashfully. "I've never felt this way about anyone before," she answered.

"Me neither," Artemisia replied, "That's why I don't want to rush into it." She pressed her lips into Callie's forehead.

"Have you ever been with someone else?" Callie asked, "Intimately?"

Artemisia nodded. "With a couple other girls, yes," she replied, "You?"

Callie shook her head. "Besides the King, you're one of the few non-goblins I've ever encountered within the castle. And other than the laundry and the atelier, there aren't a lot of parts of the castle that the King allows me to go."

"Why does the King keep you here, anyway?" Artemisia inquired.

Callie shrugged. "To spite my mother, I guess."

"Your mother?" Artemisia questioned with furrowed brows. "How does the King know your mother?"

Callie shrugged again. "I don't know. I've asked. No one wants to tell me. They won't even say her name. Everyone just calls her The Champion."

Artemisia suddenly sat up in surprise. "The Champion? Your mother is Sarah, Champion of the Labyrinth?"

Callie sat up as well, surprised to hear her mother's name. "My mother's name is Sarah. Why? Do you know about her? Do you know what happened?"

"I do," Artemisia replied hesitantly, "Though I know that King doesn't like us talking about it. It's a bit of a sore subject for him."

"Please tell me!" Callie begged, grabbing her hand, "I've been dying to know."

"Well… quite a long time ago, when your mother was even younger than you are now, the King stole away her baby brother," Artemisia explained. "When she asked for her brother back, the King made her a deal: defeat the Labyrinth, and she could have him back.

"But the deal was actually more of a trap. He felt for certain that she would fail to get through the Labyrinth and when time ran out, she would have to remain in the Underground. Much to everyone's surprise, not only was she resourceful enough to defeat the Labyrinth, but she knew the words to break any claim the King had on her. No human had ever managed anything like it."

Calliope was silent for a moment, contemplating what had just been told to her, eyes downcast and brows furrowed. "So then… why am I here? He gave my mother a challenge and she beat him. I don't understand what crime she committed."

"Her 'crime' was beating him," Artemisia replied, "I've known the King for many years now. Believe me when I say he doesn't take too kindly to losing or not getting his way."

"So you're saying that I'm only here because the King is a sore loser?" Callie asked.

"It would seem so,"Artemisia confirmed.

Callie stared down at the floor as a spring of strong emotion began to well up in her chest. She had always felt primarily fear in regard to the King, but now she was suddenly experiencing a whole range of new emotions toward him: anger, resentment, disgust. To think she's been separated from her family, isolated, and trapped for fourteen years in the Underground all over a stupid game. She swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"Are you ok?" Artemisia asked.

"I should be getting back to my room," Callie muttered, picking up her articles of clothing one by one and putting them back on.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Artemisia told her.

"No, no, you didn't upset me," Callie responded, gently placing her hand on her knee, "I just need a moment to process all this."

Artemisia stood and wrapped her arms around Callie's shoulders. "Will I see you again tomorrow?" she asked, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"I hope so," Callie responded, "The King has put in a new order for the fall, so I may have to stay late to help Arachnus with the preparations."

"Well, if you do get a moment, come knock on my door."

Artemisia gave her one last kiss goodby before Calliope slipped out the door and made her way down the hall. She couldn't stop thinking about what Artemisia said. She'd always known the King was petty and unlikeable, but not to such a degree that he would enslave someone's child over a lost bet. She thought her mother must have done something particularly heinous to incur the King's wrath, especially since no one even dared to speak of it. But instead, her fourteen years of captivity were entirely to blame on the King's poor temper.

As she passed by a window, Callie noticed it was still light outside and a balmy breeze was blowing in. She couldn't think of a better way to clear her head than to go for a swim. When she arrived at the gardens, they were blessedly unoccupied. She began to strip off her garments right away before even reaching the lily pond. When she reached the water's edge, she lowered herself in slowly, savoring the cool ripples lapping at her skin. The frogs were singing louder now as the sun was beginning to set and a faint blush colored the sky. Callie gazed up at it, floating on her back, feeling less trapped with the expansive dome of the sky above her instead of an enclosure of cinderblock. She could almost for a moment remember what freedom felt like.

As she relaxed among the lily pads, a large shadow suddenly passed overhead, shaking her out of her reverie. She jerked herself up, looking in the direction she saw it pass, and fixed her eyes on a large barn owl alighting on the ground near the edge of the pond. For a moment it just stood there, staring at her fearlessly, as if it didn't register that she was a much larger predator. Callie could only stare back, unsettled and intrigued by this sudden feathered apparition. She wondered if it belonged to the King, and had somehow gotten loose from the aviary. She began to approach it slowly, gliding through the water as soundlessly as possibly, testing how close she could get before it flew away. Even as she got near the pond's edge, it continued to stare at her, motionless and undisturbed. But just as she reached out and touched the brick that bordered the water, the owl hopped over to where her dress laid crumpled on the ground, and grasping it in its talons, flew away with it.

"Hey!" Callie cried out, lifting herself out of the water and dashing after it. She followed it back through the gardens as it flew low to the ground, perhaps weighed down by the dress, but always just out of reach. Callie ran as fast as she could in her bare feet, hoping it couldn't go much higher with her dress. If it cleared the garden walls, she would have to make her way back to her room in her wet and now transparent undergarments. But worse than going over the walls, the bird flew straight into an open window on the castle's second level.

Callie swore under her breath and stood outside the entrance to the castle, eyes fixed on the window it had just entered. She looked around to see if there was a tarp or anything laying around that she could cover herself with before going inside, but no such luck. Mustering up all her bravado, she took a deep breath and slipped inside the castle door. She peeked both directions down the corridor, relieved to find that it was also empty, and swiftly made her way to the staircase. She ran up the uneven stairs, hoping to catch the dress thief once she reached the top. But upon reaching the top stair, all she could see was another vacant corridor. She stood there for a moment at the top of the landing, wondering if she had seen it go through the right window.

"Missing something?"

The question caused her to whirl around with a startled squeak, facing the corridor's lone occupant. There, standing with arms crossed, her dress clutched in one gloved fist, was none other than the King himself. He leaned against the adjacent wall, smirking at her from under his mess of blond hair. He wore a tailored jacket that Callie recognized as one she had sewn the embellishments on just months before and his characteristically well-fitted trousers. His stylish clothes only made Callie feel all the more naked as she gawked at him, speechless. It was the first time he had ever directly addressed her since their first meeting, yet she felt just as small and frightened as she had back then. The feeling was only compounded by her state of undress and the fact that he was holding her clothing in his possession.

Callie wrapped her arms around herself, trying to cover herself as much as possible, and stumbled backwards. When she finally found the words to speak, they came out a jumbled, stuttering mess.

"I-I'm sorry, Majesty. I was… I was swimming in the pond and an owl flew off with my dress," she blurted out. As truthful as the statement was, it sounded like some ridiculous lie.

The King tilted his head. "Is that so?" he mused, slowly starting to advance toward her. Callie receded at his approach until her back hit the wall behind her. He stopped mere centimeters away from her, raking his eyes up and down her body. "Then I have the owl to thank for such a lovely view."

Callie felt herself physically bristle at the comment as her face grew hot. Was he really coming on to her? After all his years of bullying and outright snubbing her? The same surge of anger from earlier rose up in her briefly, but she pushed it back down to maintain her composure.

"May I please have my dress back, Your Majesty?" she asked softly, in as polite a tone as she could muster.

The King lifted the dress as if to inspect it, a disinterested expression on his face. "Are you sure this is your dress?" he replied, "The material looks very similar to that used in one of my jackets."

Callie clenched her fists. She knew he was toying with her, holding her dress hostage so he could force her to stand there, half-naked and dripping wet for as long as he pleased.

"Master Arachnus allows me to make dresses for myself out of the fabric remnants from your jackets," she explained, trying to hide annoyance in her voice.

The King regarded her again with a raised eyebrow. "Then if the dress is made of my fabric from my jackets, then surely it isn't your dress but mine."

Callie stared blankly at him, exasperated, unable to think of a response. She felt defeated, but was quickly losing patience with his silly power games.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," she said with a small curtsey, "I shall return to my room, then." But as she went to moved past him, his arm shot out, blocking her path. His hand connected with the wall next to her head and he leaned in close.

"I have not dismissed you yet," he growled in a low voice, his expression suddenly darkened and deadly serious.

Callie's breath hitched in her throat, her anger and annoyance now replaced by fear once more. She wracked her brain for something to do, something to say.

"Is there something else I can do for you, Your Majesty?" she asked, carefully minding her tone.

His face softened slightly, clearly pleased with her show of subservience. "I will give you back the dress…" he replied.

A smile alighted Callie's face. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she said with another curtsey.

"If you kiss me," he added.

Callie froze, feeling her pulse begin to pick up. She had heard that the King was a shameless flirt with a weakness for beautiful women. She knew that he had kept several mistresses in the past, no doubt among them the beautiful noblewomen she had seen wandering the castle before. Even knowing this, she was surprised to find herself suddenly the target of his amorous attentions. Not only was she exceedingly plain compared to the women she'd seen him with previously, but she had only ever been the target of his bullying and cruel impulses. The last thing she wanted to do was kiss him after being subjected to years of unkindness and after learning about his history with her mother. However, in her current circumstances, she found she had little choice in the matter. He wouldn't let her leave, he had her dress, and he was standing far too close to her.

"Just a kiss, Your Majesty?" Callie inquired meekly.

"Just a kiss," he repeated.

Callie took a deep breath, collecting the all the nerve within her to do whatever was necessary to escape his presence. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ears and leaned in towards his face, tilting her head to place a chaste kiss upon his cheek. But just as she drew near enough, he turned his head and caught her face in his hands, pressing his mouth forcefully against hers. She instinctively recoiled back into the wall where he immediately pinned her under his weight.

A panic rose up in her as she felt him force his tongue into her mouth, holding her head still with a vice-like grip on the back of her skull as his other arm snaked around her body, pulling her closer. A cry broke from the back of her throat and she futilely pushed back against him with all her might. This wasn't anything like the kisses she'd received from Artemisia, which were gentle, tender, full of affection; this kiss was brutal, dominating, and venomous, reducing her to something trapped and helpless.

After what felt like an eternity, he broke the kiss but still held her, now looking at her with a hungry gaze that struck fear into her very core. Callie stood frozen in place like a prey animal, too terrified to move, her breath now shallow and uneven. She was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that they were completely alone in this part of the castle with no one around to hear her scream. Even if that weren't the case, she was completely at the mercy of the King, and no one would dare to stop him. When Callie finally found her voice, it came out shaky and hoarse.

"Please let me go," she whispered, not even remembering her dress or the address him as "Your Majesty."

He continued to gaze darkly at her, then leaned in closer as if to kiss her again, but she quickly turned her face away.

"Majesty, please!" she cried, her voice now tinged with desperation.

This somehow brought him to his senses, and he smirked at her momentarily before releasing her from his hold. The moment she felt his grip loosen, she pushed past him, dashing down the hall as fast as she could, forgetting her dress or any royal protocol owed to him. She wished only to get as far away from him as possible. When she reached her room, she slammed the door and locked it, completely out of breath and still shaking. She tried to make sense of what had just happened. She thought he despised her. She thought she was too far beneath him to even be noticed. For years he'd taken to simply ignoring her existence after kicking her and knocking her down had lost its appeal. Was this just a new, creative way to torment her whenever it struck his fancy? Callie pulled off her wet shift and pulled on her nightdress, still feeling angry, disgusted, and violated. The longer she lived at the castle, the more reasons she found to hate the King. She hoped to avoid him as much as possible in the future.

The next day, she was too busy to dwell on it anymore. She and Arachnus spent the whole day pressing and preparing all the fabrics that were to be used in the King's new fall wardrobe. They were all beautiful wools and cashmeres and silk charmeuse linings that felt lovely to the touch. As she worked at the pressing table, Arachnus hung sketches of each jacket, along with fabric swatches and buttons that were to be used for each. After some time working quietly, Arachnus broke the silence.

"The King needs to be remeasured before I can start drafting the patterns. It's already been a year since the last time he was measured," he mused aloud.

Callie nodded and continued her pressing.

"He said he'd be in his study after two o' clock today, and he could have it done then," Arachnus continued, "He also specifically requested that I send you to do it."

Callie paused and looked up, almost burning a hole in the fabric with the iron.

"I think it's a good idea," Arachnus said cheerfully. "You'll get a chance to practice taking measurements on a real person instead of just a dress form."

"Can't you come with me?" Callie asked, turning toward him. "What if I make a mistake? It'll ruin the whole wardrobe."

"Have a little faith in yourself, girl," Arachnus chided. "You know more than you think you do. And besides, I can't imagine you making an error so great it couldn't be corrected."

"I just…" Callie hesitated, "I would just rather not be there by myself."

Arachnus scoffed and continued hanging the sketches. "Don't be so bashful. The King may seem intimidating, but he's not going to bite. Just do your best to record the measurements accurately and come back. I will take care of everything else while you're gone."

Callie wanted to plead with him further, but once Arachnus made a decision he rarely budged. He didn't know how wrong he was about the King, about the fact that he was indeed as intimidating as he seemed, especially to her. As he handed her a measuring tape and a notebook to write in, she made one last attempt to talk him out of it.

"I don't even know where the King's study is," she told him.

He nudged her out the door with his two lower arms while pointing down the hall with his upper arms. "Down the hall, up the staircase. It'll be the third room on the left," he directed curtly, "Now go."

He shut the door behind him leaving her standing frozen in the hallway. She wanted to run and find Artemisia, but surely she would be busy running drills at this time of day and couldn't be bothered. She wracked her brain for some excuse she could come up with, some way out of it, but she drew a blank. Resigning herself to her fate, she began slowly down the hall. When she reached the door to the study, she stopped and took a deep breath before mustering all the courage inside of her to knock.

"Come in," his smooth voice purred from the other side.

Callie took another deep breath then pushed open the door. There he was, sitting at a large desk, his boots up on the surface as he thumbed through a book. For a moment, he didn't even look at her, just continued leafing through the pages with little regard for whoever he'd just invited in. When he finally did look up, he seemed to recognize her immediately as a wolfish smile spread across his face. Callie gave a small curtsey, still clutching the notebook and measuring tape to her chest.

"I'm here to take your measurements, Your Majesty," she told him, her voice betraying her nervousness.

"Close the door behind you," he replied, standing up from his desk.

Though Callie had hoped she could at least leave the door open, she did as she was told, pulling it shut with an ominous click. Her heart was already pounding as she recalled what had transpired the previous day when they were alone together. Her eyes darted around the room as she approached him to see if there were any alternative exits.

"I suppose you want this off?" he inquired, gesturing to his jacket.

Callie nodded. "Your shirt as well," she added.

"My, how the tables have turned," he jabbed, but Callie gave no reaction to the comment. She laid the notebook down on the desk, turned to an empty page, jotting down a list of the required measurement points as he removed his jacket and shirt.

"What about these?" He asked, pointing to his trousers.

Callie glanced at them briefly and shook her head. "Your trousers are… contoured enough to your body that you can leave them on."

He smirked again, but refrained from any further commentary.

After Callie finished her list, she picked up the measuring tape and drew it out between her fingers. "Just stand naturally," she instructed.

She kept herself as detached as possible as she started with the width measurements, just focusing on the body points and the accuracy of the numbers. He stood perfectly still, not saying anything, but his eyes never leaving her. She could see his gaze on her out of the corner of her eye, though she tried her best to ignore it. She just focused on finishing the measurements as quickly as possible so she didn't have to stay any longer than necessary.

"It's Callie, isn't it?" he inquired, breaking the silence.

"Yes, Majesty," she replied curtly.

"And what is that short for?" he prodded.

"Calliope, sire."

"Calliope…" He drawled out, "Now that's an unusual name. Named for the chief of muses, no doubt?"

Callie got the feeling he was prying for information, but about what she wasn't sure. Surely her name, as unusual as it was, wasn't exactly a fascinating topic of conversation for him. Either that or he was trying to keep her distracted with small talk.

"No, Majesty. Named for the musical instrument," she answered.

"The instrument?" he chuckled, "Why were you named after a musical instrument?"

Callie didn't want to go into it, especially not after what she'd recently learned about him, but she couldn't easily dodge the question.

"My mother collected music boxes," she explained, "What is a calliope but a large music box?"

"Ah, yes," he crooned, "I do recall your mother's fondness for music boxes."

At this, Callie paused and looked up to meet his gaze. He now wore a satisfied smile, as though that was exactly the reaction he was hoping for. Callie could sense that he was toying with her again, but she couldn't help but take the bait.

"Did you know my mother well?" she asked, stretching the tape from his shoulder point to the hollow of his neck.

He reached up and curled his hand around hers, pressing it into his sternum. "Better than most," he replied softly.

Callie pulled her hand away sharply and regarded him warily. She decided not to pursue that line of questioning any further.

After recording the last few measurements, she quickly snatched up her notebook.

"Those are all the measurements we need, Your Majesty. We will inform you once the garments are ready to be fitted," she said with a curtsey.

She hurried quickly toward the door and turned the handle, but as soon she had it open a crack, the King's hand shot forward, slamming it shut again. Callie could feel him at her back, but she didn't dare turn around.

His face came so low to her ear that she could feel him hissing into her hair: "You are always in such a hurry, Callie. Remember who it is who decides when you leave."

Callie could feel her heart in her throat. She was petrified to the spot, half-hoping if she stayed still long enough, he would just let her go.

"I have a gift for you, Callie," she heard him say, "Look."

She turned back toward him, slowly and carefully until she stood fully facing him. As soon as she raised her eyes up to meet his, he turned his hand through the air, producing a crystalline orb at his fingertips. Then he enclosed it in his palm, and opened his hand again slowly. Sitting in the middle of his palm was a beautiful domed music box, with a dark-haired figurine in a white ballgown at its center. With a sharp pang in her heart, Callie recognized it immediately.

"I believe this belonged to your mother," he said.

Callie nodded, fighting back the sudden rush of tears.

"Then it's yours," he reached his hand out toward her.

She knew that she shouldn't have taken it; she knew he was just playing on her emotions, but it was a piece of her mother, and she couldn't turn it down. She cradled the music box in both hands close to her chest, gazing down at the miniature face that could have been her mother's.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"You're free to go now, Callie," he told her, pushing off the door and walking back to his desk.

Callie nodded, and exited the room, closing the door softly behind her.