The speaker describes a relationship with someone who holds all the power. The "king" is a figure who once counted to ten on his fingers, yet now half of the speaker's fingers are gone, a striking image that suggests something has been taken from her or worn away over time. He asks whether he has sinned, but he doesn't really want an honest answer. She bows and tells him he can't do harm, because a king is above blame. It reads as submission, though it may also be bitter or ironic.
In the second stanza, she admits she'll never be his queen. Nothing is handed to her; any "crown" she gets, she has to attach to herself, and the pieces don't fit together. The mood is quiet, tired and resigned. The speaker sees the imbalance clearly, and the mismatched crown suggests that the love or status she's offered is patched together and never quite hers.