Lucia’s heart raced as she walked back to the main room. She didn’t want to walk too fast for fear of making her breath heavy. That would certainly give away something that was wrong. She reached back and pulled the long hood low across her face. Fabric once again started to tickle her nose. This sensation was always so unpleasant.

Just as she entered the room, the light of Father's lamp graced the slick, wet walls. The glisten made her wince as the brightness pierced her sensitive eyes. The light was hard to look at in this condensed form. It stretched long before Father reached the room giving her much-needed moments to calm her breathing.

The familiar click of Father's shoes echoed in the small room. A few seconds passed, and then Father entered, the lantern outstretched. His face was softer. There was a semblance of happiness in his mildly wrinkled features today.

“Lucia, my child,” His voice rang of kindness. “How are you today?”

Lucia’s heart continued at a fast pace. She ran through every appropriate response she could give. She thought hard about which answer would seem the most innocent. But hearing Father's kind words helped put her at ease.

“The same as any other day,” She said. “Just waiting for your return visit.”

“Wonderful,” Father said, his tone drifting away.

“What brought the sudden visit?”

“Is it so hard to believe I wanted to see my hard-working daughter?”

A smile slowly crept across her face under the hood's protection. His kind words slowed the racing in her chest. Words that were kind and safe to her. “It’s wonderful to have a visit.”

“Oh,” Father took his usual seat. He then rummaged in a bag to his side. “I brought these for you.”

After a few moments of random riffling, he withdrew a small cinched bag. The seemingly insignificant pouch caused her heart to race for other reasons. “Is that for me?”

“Who else would it be for?” Father let out a laugh that echoed down the stone tunnels. A pang of worry rose in her stomach as her thoughts raced back to the neighboring room. The greeting stillness reassured her that the man was keeping silent, much to her surprise and relief.

“What is it?” Lucia asked, trying to keep her tone calm. It was difficult not to get excited over the mystery contents.

“Only your favorite sweets, of course.”

With the slightest flick of his wrist, the small bag flew through the air and landed easily in her open hands. She could feel the small, individually wrapped balls of sugar. Lucia adored the simple sweets Father occasionally brought, but something seemed off. Holidays were months past unless her timekeeping was off, and she was hardly ever wrong.

“Why the treats now?”

“You’ve been working so hard for the kingdom with your duties. I felt you deserved a reward.”

Lucia hugged the bag close to her chest as the men's faces from the day before flashed past—the lifeless bodies covered in dirt. The personal items of lives lost a whisper of the memories made.

“Thank you,” She managed to make her voice steady. “Anything I can do for our people.”

“Our people love you Lucia.” His words were warm. They filled her with comfort so lacking in the dark, lonely tunnels. The reassurance she needed that he was a loving Father. The comfort of a parent proud of a child’s work. Whatever that man accused Father of was wrong. She knew Father far longer, and he had never mistreated her.

“Thank you,” She said again. It was hard to hide the emotion in her voice.

“If only your looks were less terrifying,” his tone was somber. “The people of our castle would very much like to meet you and thank you for your services.”

Lucia felt her shoulders slump, and she faked a smile. She knew his words were sincere. She would always have to serve from the shadows.

“Now, what did you find on the dead bodies yesterday? Did you get rid of them?”

Lucia had to process the sudden topic change. She’d given the gold coins she collected little thought. They seemed meaningless compared to the other items she found.

“Let me grab them.”

She set the bag of candy on the table next to the food he’d brought previously and walked to the small wooden shelf. The gold coins were where she had left them. The cold coins clinked as they moved against each other in the tight space of the bag. She walked over to Father slowly, not wanting to startle him or have any skin show. He reached out with a glint in his eye, excited to receive what she had found.

She dropped the bag into his outstretched hand with a soft clank. She was happy to see Father so elated with the coins. It was nice to give back for all the difficulties she caused him.

“Was this it?” For a moment, he almost sounded disappointed.

“Ah,” She gathered her thoughts. “Yeah. There wasn't too much on them. Sorry.”

“Well, I guess it can't be helped,” He said. He stashed the purse in a coat pocket.

“I would’ve guessed they had more,” he whispered under his breath.

“What was that?” Lucia asked.

“Oh. I would’ve thought they had more…” He paused momentarily. “Weapons. You would think that assassins trying to take my life would come a little more prepared.”

“Father?” Lucia's voice was more timid. “Is there any chance they weren't… assassins?”

Father's eyes squinted slightly, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh,” Lucia said. “No reason. Their faces just seemed… too friendly.”

“Lucia. Don't you know the kind ones are the ones to trust the least?”

Lucia thought it over for a second. It made sense. You would naturally let your guard down with people who seemed nice. Father must be too trusting.

“Father. You are too nice,” Lucia said as she reached up to move hair out of her face. At that moment, the lantern's light illuminated her bare hand. She had forgotten to put on her gloves.

Father let out an audible gasp. Lucia recoiled her hands deep into her thick cloak.

“What are you thinking?!” Father's voice was loud and harsh. He stood suddenly from his chair. “How dare you show me your vial skin?”

“I’m sorry, Father,” Lucia said. “I forgot my gloves in my haste to see you. I didn’t mean to show you.”

“You know it reminds me of that awful day? Every time I see it, it makes my skin crawl!”

“I’m so sorry,” Lucia made every attempt to sink into the rocks behind her, but she could only shrink back so far. “Please forgive me. It won't happen again.”

Father stared at her, breath heavy. After a few moments of heated silence, he sat down again. “Lucia. You know how your appearance angers people?”

“I know.”

“Please don't forget again,” Father said. “I’m sorry for my outburst. I just can't help it. I want to keep you safe, as any loving father would do.”

Father's tone sounded warm again. Lucia felt horrible about forgetting the gloves. They were a gift from Father.

“You know I love you?” Father’s words were comforting.

“I know,” Lucia said. She smiled under the thick hood, her hands pressed tight to her sides.

They sat and conversed for almost an hour. Father talked about the stresses of being king. Lucia sat and listened intently. Even the most mundane task was so fascinating to her. The castle seemed like such a complicated thing to manage. He had to oversee every person that lived there. She was glad he had servants and attendants to help him. She could tell he loved the people just as much as he loved her. He had to be a benevolent king.

As wonderful as it was to listen to Father, she knew she needed to get back to the man. She felt a twinge of guilt keeping this from Father, but the secret wouldn't last for long. The man would soon be healed and on his way. To her surprise, she felt almost sad. He would return to his life outside her cave and live his life, hopefully far from Father. Maybe she would even tell Father one day. He would be understanding.

Father concluded their visit with a final warning to stay in the safety of the cave and then left. The light faded slowly as the footsteps turned into faint whispers. Once she was sure he was gone, she scrambled to her feet. She rushed to the other room to find the man slumped, his head hanging limply. The food she had left was scattered across the room.

How had we not heard this? She thought as she gathered up the food.

She concluded that he had probably struggled to free himself until he had passed out from the effort. It was sad to see so much hatred directed at Father.

“You know you can't leave until you get better?” Lucia said to the limp figure.

She felt a slight thrill of happiness at the thought. All this struggling will slow your healing... and that might not be such a bad thing.