Chapter Thirteen - The Wolf Knight #2
The goblin thrashed in Wulf’s arms, who easily held him in place.
Rosamund could not help it, despite her mixed feelings, the sight of the little goblin trying to free itself in pursuit of confectionery was too much.
She saw that even Dorian was struggling to keep a straight face and had let out a cough that had sounded suspiciously like it could have been a laugh.
“Okay, okay, you have defeated me brave Sir knight,” said Wulf, pretending to drop down dramatically to the floor.
The knight reached into the pocket of his doublet and produced a small pink wafer.
Gnash snatched it immediately with a giggle and danced off around the conservatory proclaiming himself the winner.
Not before he quickly rushed back, hugged the knights legs once more and sped off to munch his winnings.
“I see he’s settling in well,” said Sir Wulf as he watched the goblin with a warm expression.
“He hasn’t always been here?” asked Rosamund curiously.
Dorian frowned at Sir Wulf who looked confused for a moment and then said, “Oh! Well, yes, he has, of course. But not, you know, as a permanent fixture.”
“Right,” said Rosamund, unconvinced, as Dorian rolled his eyes.
“A well-deserved promotion,” said Dorian firmly, “now, we will leave you to your work.”
Dorian went to leave but paused when Rosamund asked, “were you trying to fix the fountain?”
“No,” said Dorian.
“Yes,” said Wulf cheerfully at the same time.
Rosamund looked between them with an amused expression as Dorian once again turned to the knight with a wide-eyed frown. Wulf ignored him.
“Yes,” he reiterated, “plumbing has never been Dorian’s forte.”
Taken aback by the use of Dorian’s first name, she then had to suppress a disbelieving laugh as the Prince punched his friends arm like they were two boys in a park. Wulf dodged it easily and continued, “but fear not Lady Rosamund, I’ll have her up and running by the end of the week.”
“I’d appreciate it,” she said with a grin, “and the company.”
Wulf looked shocked and turned to the Prince, “don’t tell me he’s been holed up in that damned tower of his whilst you’ve been doing all the work?”
“I have been working,” growled Dorian, “I have important business.”
“Whilst poor Rosamund here has been getting her hands dirty,” said Wulf shaking his head.
“It’s gardening, of course she’s getting her hands dirty,” said Dorian gesturing to said hands.
Rosamund laughed, which seemed to surprise Dorian as he gave her a confused look.
“Look at her,” said Wulf, with a mock pitying expression, “laughing through the pain.”
“I’m leaving,” said Dorian, throwing his hands into the air in frustration as a fresh burst of laughter came forth from both her and Wulf, “don’t forget we need to head into The Veil tomorrow. You can pick up what you need there.”
“Could I join you?” asked Rosamund before she really knew what she was asking.
Dorian paused in the doorway but did not look round. Wulf looked between the prince and her, confused, and eventually said, “of course you-.”
“No,” said Dorian firmly.
“No?” said Wulf confused.
“Please,” said Rosamund, as she took a step towards the prince, “if this is to be my home, if I am to be your-” she swallowed, “wife. Shouldn’t I meet your people?”
Again, the silence stretched out between them. He was considering it, as he finally turned to face her, she could see it in his expression. He was weighing something up as he looked at her, his eyes searching her suspiciously. He shook his head.
“No, it’s too dangerous.”
“Well if she’s with us then-” Wulf started to say.
“Wulf! A word, now,” snapped Dorian and turned on his heel, ending the conversation.
Wulf gave her an ‘oops’ face and a shrug, “let me talk to him,” he took her hand, “it is genuinely good to see you again Lady Rosamund, under,” he hesitated, “better circumstances.”
The turmoil from before did not feel as bad and she found herself offering him a genuine smile, “thank you. For this,” she gestured to the fountain, “and, for helping me.”
He returned the smile, “anytime my lady.”
“Can I ask, how are my aunts?” she asked quietly.
His smile was tinged with a little sadness as he replied, “they are safe. Your Aunt Beatrice is, well,” he looked away from her, “they are alive, and they are comfortable.”
“Thank you,” she said, she took a step closer to him, “if you will be returning there, can you let me know. I would love to write to them.”
“Of course,” he said enthusiastically, “I would be happy too.”
“WULF!” barked Dorian from the corridor.
Wulf rolled his eyes as Rosamund laughed again.
“I better go,” said the knight, and bounded up the stairs, pausing at the top he turned back to her, “I know that Dorian does not make the best first impression, but- he tries to do the right thing. He, just doesn’t always do it in the best way.”
Before she could question him further on that he had headed off down the corridor after the prince.
As she turned her attention to the potted plants Gnash reappeared, and on seeing there were no biscuits flopped down onto the bench.
She grabbed the steel watering can and crossed to the tap on the other side, all the while considering Wulf’s words.
The two of them had acted less like Lord and Knight and more like brothers.
It had been at the same time unusual and endearing to see.
None of the servants in Blackthorn Hall stood on ceremony too much, but Wulf was so familiar as to be almost disrespectful.
And Dorian did not care. If anything, despite his frustration, he seemed to enjoy it.
It was a new side of him she had not seen before and was at odds with the man she remembered from that first night. Her captor.
Lost in her thoughts, she jumped when she realised that someone was standing beside her.
“Elira!”
“S-s-sorry,” said the maid servant, who held out an amber calling card to her, “this j-just arrive.”
Her heart sank as she took in the colours of the calling card, not wishing to touch it.
Elswyth had spent an entire afternoon getting Rosamund to memorise the house colours of each of the Royal Prince’s and their vassals; the burnt orange and black was one that had particularly stood out.
With a groan she took the card from Elira and read:
Dearest Rosamund,
I would be delighted if you would join me and my ladies this evening for a Starlight Salon at the Ironhold,
Princess Lavinia.
PS. Do try to dress appropriately.
Rosamund ripped the card in half, and then for good measure ripped it again.
She had been dreading this invite, though Elswyth had at least told her to expect it.
As their lessons progressed, Elswyth had let her know that the wives were starting to ask how she was getting on and had indicated that Lavinia might try to throw her weight around.
“When she hosts she only ever invites those lower than herself. Marianne and other minor ladies, and eventually, you,” said Elswyth, “it’s her opportunity to be queen of the castle, and she will take great delight in putting you in your place.
My advice, be respectful, but don’t let her walk all over you.
If you show any weakness to her, she’ll never let you forget it. ”
She toyed with the ring around her neck and bit her lip with worry.
They had thought the invite would come after the wedding, but it seemed the red head could not wait that long. It was a trap. No doubt the princess had heard of her progress. Well, Rosamund would not let her. Not this time.
She sighed “I hope you’ve cleared your schedule, Elira; we’ll need most of the afternoon for this one.”