Chapter SevenThe King closed the door behind him and walked slowly towards the bed.
He had changed into a long dark robe that nearly touched the ground and he had a silk scarf round his neck.
He looked strange and the robe made him seem taller and in a way more imposing than he did ordinarily.
Zita stared at him wide-eyed until she found her voice,
“W-why are you here? You have – no right – to come into – my room.”
“I have to talk to you, Zita,” the King said quietly, “and, as you might run away, as you have done before, there is no other way I can be certain that you will listen to me.”
“I don’t want to listen to you. We have – nothing to say to each – other.”
“On the contrary, I have a great deal to say and frankly you have no alternative but to hear me out.”
“It will do no good,
