3. Rosalie
Chapter 3
Rosalie
R osalie dragged Daphne inside and shut the door behind them. She looked warily around, but apparently her brothers weren’t home. If they were, they would already have converged on her friend. Ever since Rosalie’s family had been forced to move from the center of town into the tiny cottage, it had been impossible to conceal Daphne’s presence on any of her visits.
“I think we’re safe,” Rosalie said warily, afraid that speaking too loudly might summon them from the forest that crept close to the rear of the cottage.
Daphne gave a sigh of relief and sank into the threadbare sofa. Rosalie still had too much pent-up energy to sit, however. She paced instead, a difficult feat given the size of the room.
“I didn’t see any sign of the Beast,” she muttered as she strode up and down. “But then I managed to stop Dimitri from plucking a rose, so it makes sense he didn’t appear.” She paused for a moment to shake her head. “Can you believe Dimitri was lured in so easily? He had no wariness of roses at all! Who travels between kingdoms without learning the details of all the Legacies before setting out? Didn’t he attend school as a child? He didn’t even seem to know what the Sovaran Legacy does to glass!”
“He seemed remarkably ignorant,” Daphne agreed in an indifferent voice. But her eyes sharpened as she looked up at Rosalie. “But his looks were interesting. Very interesting.”
Rosalie abruptly swung around to pace in the other direction, obscuring her face from her friend.
“What do his looks have to do with anything?”
She bit her lip, aware she hadn’t managed the carefree tone she had been aiming for. But she pushed on regardless. “Are you interested in him or something? I’ll admit he was attractive, but considering he’s only traveling through, we’ll probably never see him again.”
“Attractive? I suppose he was,” Daphne said as if considering the matter for the first time. “Of course you would have found him so.” She said the words without judgment. “He looks remarkably like Jace.”
“Like Jace?” Rosalie attempted unaffected surprise, but again failed. “I suppose they are both fair.”
“It was more than just that.” Daphne pursed her lips consideringly. “Although he was…more than Jace. Definitely more.”
Rosalie didn’t have to ask what Daphne meant by that. She had noticed it too.
Although she didn’t want to admit it to her friend, she had been shocked by Dimitri’s appearance—nearly shocked enough to forget her urgent mission of separating him from the rose. He did look remarkably like Jace. But the longer she had looked at him, the less she had seen it. With his golden hair, dark brows, and strong, sculpted features, Dimitri had made Jace seem like a weak echo—an inexpert attempt to copy a master’s work. But that thought only made her more ashamed, so she pushed it aside.
“More or less, what does it matter?” she said firmly. “As I said, we’re never seeing him again.”
Silence fell briefly before Daphne spoke in a hesitant voice. “Did you want to talk about him?”
Rosalie turned to face her, her brow creasing. “Talk about Dimitri? Whatever for?”
Daphne shook her head. “I mean Jace. You never mention him, but you’ve been different ever since…” She trailed off.
Rosalie glanced at the small house around them. It wasn’t her that was different since Jace, it was everything else. But there was no point trying to explain that to Daphne, who persisted in believing Rosalie must be hiding a broken heart.
“I don’t want to talk about him,” she said with finality. “I want—” But as usual whatever she wanted was drowned out by the boisterous arrival of three long-limbed and raucous boys.
“We didn’t know you were here, Rosalie,” Vernon said, but his eyes were on Daphne. All of theirs were.
“Daphne’s staying the night,” Rosalie announced to universal male cries of delight.
Daphne, on the other hand, directed a wounded look at Rosalie. Rosalie just grinned back at her. Now that the boys were present, there would be no opportunity for Daphne to bring up Jace again. Besides, Daphne had promised only a week ago that she would come for a longer visit soon.
After Daphne’s arrival in Thebarton at the age of seven, the two girls had been almost inseparable, flowing freely between Daphne’s house and Rosalie’s. But it wasn’t the same now that they no longer lived only a few doors apart. Rosalie’s whole family missed Daphne, and with Daphne’s parents traveling, it was the perfect time for her to stay over.
“Don’t worry,” Rosalie murmured, dropping onto the sofa beside her friend. “We can escape to bed as soon as we’ve eaten. And you know Mother will be pleased. With you here, all three of them will volunteer to help prepare the meal. You won’t have to lift a finger.”
Sighing, Daphne capitulated at this final inducement.
“In that case,” she said, shoving Rosalie off the seat and stretching out, “wake me when the food’s ready.”
As predicted, Rosalie had enthusiastic if unskilled assistance from Ralph, Vernon, and Oscar, who were all hoping Daphne would wake up and notice their contribution.
“How she can sleep through these three, I have no idea,” Rosalie’s mother said when she arrived from tending the cottage’s garden. She surveyed her sons with an indulgent eye before embracing her youngest daughter.
“Practice.” Rosalie gave the soup another stir. “Do you remember how loud they used to be when they were younger?” She shuddered dramatically, making her mother laugh.
Glancing sideways at her mother, Rosalie smiled. Every laugh she won from her seemed twice as valuable now. They had all been forced to work harder since the move, but her parents didn’t have youth on their side like Rosalie and the boys.
“Don’t look at me like that,” her mother said softly, slipping her words beneath the boys’ chatter. “I’m fine.” She looked around the cramped kitchen which was part of the cottage’s main room. “But thank you for this. You know we appreciate everything you do.”
Rosalie flushed, leaning over to inspect the soup more closely. Her parents had been gracious from the beginning. Even when her father had been forced to transport his own merchant goods, leaving his family for long trip after long trip, no one had blamed Rosalie for the family’s separation.
It only made her feel worse.
When the evening’s tasks were finally done, and Rosalie lay in bed, Daphne already long gone to slumber, she couldn’t get her mother’s lined face from her thoughts. How long had she been working in the garden while Rosalie was off inspecting the manor?
Rosalie should have stayed behind and helped. But if she hadn’t gone, Dimitri would have plucked that rose, and then they would all have been in trouble. Dimitri might have had no connection to Rosalie, but the Legacy would have sucked her and her family into the mess that followed somehow. She might have missed helping with the weeding, but at least she had averted disaster.
She scoffed quietly to herself in the darkness. It was no surprise that a young man with a face like Dimitri’s would be causing trouble.
Objectively, Daphne was right about his good looks. He was even tall and broad-shouldered. Jace had caused enough of a stir among the local girls, and Dimitri far surpassed him. Young men as attractive as Dimitri were best avoided. Only someone with a face like his would have dared wander around an unfamiliar kingdom, getting himself and the innocent people in his orbit into trouble.
She was glad she would never see him again.
“ Y ou don’t have to walk me home,” Daphne said mildly. “I do know the way.”
Rosalie grinned at her. “You know perfectly well I was itching to escape. The sun is shining far too beautifully to be cooped up inside—especially with those three.”
Daphne grinned knowingly. “Do you think they’ll actually clean to your mother’s satisfaction this time? Or will they end up having to redo it all like usual?”
Rosalie’s laughing rejoinder trailed off as she spotted a small cluster of young people in front of the Fosters’ elaborate home.
“What’s going on over there?” She tugged Daphne toward the group, keeping her face carefully averted from the other side of the town’s central square. It was still painful to see the charred ashes where her home had once stood.
“Is that Dimitri?” Daphne asked, making Rosalie forget all about the houses.
Dimitri should have been long gone. There had been enough time remaining the day before for him to complete the necessary research. Even if he’d stayed the night at one of Thebarton’s inns, he should have been on his way first thing in the morning.
Unless his destination had been Thebarton. Her heart sank.
She wanted to deny it, but it was obviously Dimitri. His head stood tall among the young women who surrounded him, and she could clearly see his profile as he flashed them all a charming smile, chuckling at something one of them had just said. Rosalie’s outrage grew as he gave the speaker a piercing look designed to set her heart fluttering. He was even worse than Jace had been.
Rosalie marched up to the collection of familiar faces. The five girls gathered around Dimitri had been Rosalie’s friends once, even if they had never been as close as Daphne. And they were still friendly enough that Rosalie was greeted with an array of welcoming smiles.
But the welcome would have been far warmer a year ago. The group’s dynamic had changed now that Rosalie was no longer the daughter of the most prosperous merchant in town. When Rosalie could no longer invite them to the largest house on the square, the invitations she received in return had dwindled considerably. And while she hadn’t been totally excluded from her social circle, she had slid from its center to its fringe.
The experience had been more humiliating than if they had rejected her entirely. If faced with rejection, she could have blamed it on outside pressure or fear. As it was, she had been forced to accept that her old position hadn’t been based on her value as a person and friend but on her parent’s financial worth. It had been a sobering realization, and it colored backward to taint years of friendship.
Blythe—the Fosters’ oldest daughter and new center of the social scene—gestured them into the circle.
“Rosalie! Daphne!” She looked pleased to have something interesting to share. “You must meet our newest neighbor.”
Neighbor . Rosalie’s heart sank the rest of the way from her belly to her toes. It was true, then. Dimitri was staying.
“Rosalie.” Dimitri greeted her with visible pleasure, apparently oblivious to her reaction.
The single word was enough to send a frisson through the group. The eyes, which had already gravitated from the newcomers back to Dimitri, turned in Rosalie’s direction again, their expressions now ranging from curious to sour.
Rosalie ignored them. These same girls had envied her Jace’s attention once, and look at how that had turned out. She had been a fool then, but she refused to be one again. If the others hadn’t learned from Jace that appearances could be deceiving, they were only setting themselves up for pain.
“You didn’t tell us you were staying,” she said to Dimitri, making no attempt to keep the accusation out of her voice.
His pleased expression faltered, replaced with a look of confusion. She might even have bought it if she hadn’t just seen him playing to his audience, eating up the attention. Whatever game he was playing, he hadn’t been honest the day before.
“I only arrived yesterday,” he said carefully.
“I know that,” she snapped. “I walked you part of the way, remember?”
“You met him outside the manor?” Blythe asked. “You must have been shocked.” She giggled. “No one has lived there for twenty years,” she added unnecessarily.
Rosalie frowned from Blythe to Dimitri. How had Blythe known they had met in the manor grounds?
“I walked him into town,” she confirmed slowly, a horrifying possibility dawning on her.
A slight flush brushed Dimitri’s cheeks, his face betraying him and giving away his guilt. He cleared his throat.
“Thank you for your directions,” he said. “I was able to follow them this morning when I walked in to purchase supplies. Thebarton is a lovely town…” His voice faltered at her stony expression.
“You’re the one who moved into the castle?” she asked, needing confirmation. “ You’re the Beast?”
Blythe snorted, and all four of the other girls giggled.
“Of course he’s not a Beast, Rosalie,” she said. “Obviously!” She flushed darker than Dimitri had, her gaze dropping shyly away from his handsome face.
“I don’t know,” Daphne said doubtfully. “The most terrifying creature I’ve yet encountered was a good-looking young man.”
The other girls all cried out protests or rolled their eyes, but Rosalie squeezed her friend’s hand. Daphne understood. Daphne knew that beneath Jace’s pretty exterior had lurked a cold and heartless monster. Apparently the other girls had chosen to forget what he had done to Rosalie and her family under the guise of love. But Rosalie would never forget.
The love sometimes felt like the worst part of it. Her body still burned with humiliation when she thought of how easily she’d been deceived. Jace had been so obviously struck the first time they met, and she had soaked in his pretty words and flattery, had been so ready to believe he loved her. She had wanted to believe it because he represented an escape from the Legacy and the danger it represented for her—the youngest daughter of a merchant with three daughters and three sons. Once she was Jace’s wife instead, the Legacy would have only the mildest interest in her. Jace was the key to a whole new life, and so she had thrown herself into their love with everything she had.
She had been so desperate for that future that she couldn’t bear to wait as Jace said they had to until he found a proper position. It had seemed only natural for her to beg her father to give Jace the job he needed. And of course her loving father had given his daughter’s beloved a trusted role within his thriving merchant empire. They were about to be family, after all.
But it had all been a lie. Just as Rosalie’s friends hadn’t really valued her for herself, Jace hadn’t been struck by Rosalie’s beauty or wit. He had been struck by her name and her family. He had seen an opportunity, and he had exploited it ruthlessly. With the Legacy to aid him, it had been child’s play to embezzle a chunk of her father’s fortune.
He couldn’t get it all, of course. But his actions had been the spark, and the Legacy had fanned the flames that followed. Rosalie’s eyes were drawn irresistibly to the place her childhood home had once stood. Not all the flames had been metaphorical, and when they had subsided, almost nothing had been left.
Jace had wielded his face like a weapon, taking what he wanted and not caring who was hurt in the process. And now here was Dimitri, just as careless of both the truth and the well-being of others. Her instincts had known it as soon as she saw his face, and she should have trusted them.
“I’m not a Beast.” Dimitri watched her, his features twisted in false concern. “But I do live at the manor now. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear yesterday. I…” Words failed him. Clearly he couldn’t think of an excuse fast enough.
“You told him not to ask you questions, but apparently we should have asked him some,” Daphne muttered beside her. Rosalie ignored her.
Sable, one of Blythe’s closest friends, edged closer to Dimitri, looking up at him with admiration.
“We’ve all been so used to the manor being empty. I never thought we’d have our own prince in residence.” She giggled.
Rosalie snorted. Dimitri was no prince—thankfully. She could only imagine how much the Legacy would love that.
Dimitri cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Rosalie’s eyes snapped to his face. He was watching her, the others apparently forgotten, his expression rueful.
“Not a prince,” he said. “I’m a more distant royal than that, I’m afraid.”
Rosalie fell back a step, grasping at Daphne’s arm in horror. He actually was a royal? Quibbling about exact titles was like insisting the castle was officially a manor. The Legacy didn’t require such exactitude. It had a prince living alone in a castle, and she could already feel her life as she knew it crumbling around her.
Her fingers dug into Daphne’s arm, making her friend squeak in protest.
“Sorry,” Rosalie muttered, forcing her fingers to relax.
She didn’t let go, though. Continuing backward, she dragged Daphne with her. They had to get away from Dimitri immediately, and she had to make sure she never ran into him again. She had thought she just needed to avoid the castle, but now there was a walking, talking prince she had to avoid as well. One who apparently felt at ease in her town, flirting with her friends. One who couldn’t be trusted.
She groaned.
“Ahh…Where are we going?” Daphne asked, trying fruitlessly to free her arm.
“Away,” Rosalie said shortly. “We will be avoiding Dimitri from now on.”
Daphne raised an eyebrow, but it was Dimitri’s voice that spoke. Rosalie had already dragged her friend halfway across the square, but Dimitri was striding after them, leaving the other girls behind.
“Wait!” he called. “I was wanting to speak with you.”
“Well, I don’t want to speak with you.” Rosalie finally stopped walking backward and dropped Daphne’s arm. Spinning, she strode forward instead, leaving Dimitri to address her back.
“I really am sorry,” he said, sounding far too close. “To say I was confused yesterday is putting it mildly. I couldn’t understand most of what you were saying.”
Rosalie shook her head. So he was going to blame ignorance? Was she supposed to find that sympathetic?
He fell into silence, but she could still hear his steps, like a black cloud following her. Daphne had stuck to her side, and Rosalie could see her sneaking glances back at him. But Rosalie refused to do the same. She could hardly order him off—apparently his home lay in the same direction as hers—but she could ignore his presence. It was going to be her strategy from now on.
The houses thinned and grew more run-down, and the other traffic on the road lessened. When it was just the two of them walking with Dimitri’s footsteps behind them, Rosalie couldn’t hold herself back any longer.
She came to an abrupt stop, catching Daphne and their silent shadow by surprise. She whirled to face Dimitri just as he finally stopped as well, only inches from her.
Rosalie’s breath caught. He was closer than she’d expected. Too close. She crossed her arms over her chest, unwilling to be the one to back away.
He froze, his body stilling. His gaze caught on her eyes and then dropped to her lips.