Chapter Twenty-Eight - Blackthorn Salon #4
With that she swept towards the conservatory door, Rowan rushing forward to open them before pulling ahead to start calling for the carriages. Before Rosamund could turn back to the other ladies, Celeste and Seraphine had also swept past her.
“I will think on it,” was all that Celeste said, and Seraphine ignored her completely as the two older women followed the Queen out of the conservatory.
Lavinia was next, rising to her feet languidly with a sigh, “well, never a dull moment with you Rosie.”
Without another word she too left the conservatory, leaving her alone with Isolde and Marianne.
“Can you do it? Can you break the curse?” asked Isolde, a pleading look in her face that sent a stab of guilt into Rosamund’s gut.
“I…I can try,” she said hesitantly, and then more firmly, “I promise that I will do everything that I can.”
“It…it would be nice to have something that was mine,” said Isolde as she wrapped her arms around her stomach.
She appeared to remember herself and cleared her throat, reaching to pick up some of the cakes, “I will speak to him, of course I will. And he’ll listen. I promise. We’ll do what we can.”
Rosamund smiled gratefully at her, clutching her free hand as she passed by, “thank you.”
Isolde gave her one last nod and followed the other princesses out. Once she was sure Isolde was gone Marianne turned to her, “is it enough?”
She did not doubt that Isolde would speak to Aurelian.
She was not sure what she had meant by something that was hers, but she had seen the hope in the woman’s face.
Lavina was always going to be one of the harder sells, but she had at least looked intrigued at the prospect of further trade.
The woman did enjoy her luxuries. Though Rosamund had seen the way her eyes had widened when she mentioned the curse.
Then again, Lavinia made it very clear how she felt about her husband, the two clearly could not stand each other, would she have any chance of convincing him to listen?
Cedric seemed firmly on the side of Bastian, she doubted much help would come from there.
Which left Celeste and Seraphine. Both had looked shocked at her offer to break the curse; there had been a flash of something in both their expressions.
Hope and disgust. She could not be certain where they had landed on their decision. And the Queen…
“Let’s pray that is,” was all that Rosamund could say.
Marianne did not leave immediately, and Rosamund was grateful for her presence.
The two of them sat and went over every moment of the salon, dissecting it, trying to guess at what each of the princesses would do next.
They would have likely continued long into the evening if Osric had not arrived to bring her home.
He had looked at her with concern when she had told him with uncharacteristic confidence that they had something to discuss.
Alone with her thoughts, Rosamund made her way to her room in the East Tower.
The toll of using her power so extensively began to take hold, and by the time she had reached her personal receiving room she realised she could go no further.
She collapsed onto the dark blue sofa and kicked off the black heeled shoes that had pinched at her toes.
Is it enough?
It would have to be. She had played her final hand, now it was in the hands of the other princesses. Her eyes closed she sent a silent prayer to the goddess.
Let them understand. Please. I can’t lose him. I can’t lose her. I can’t lose anyone else.
There was nothing more that she could do before the trial, everything was in motion and there was no stopping it now.
Though they had run through everything, over and over again, there were still so many ways it could go wrong.
And she was risking it all again. The Veil, the world that Dorian had built here, people she had come to care for, risking it all again. For him. For Elswyth. For her family.
It must work. It will work.
She could feel herself sinking further into her thoughts, which is when it occurred to her that there was one last thing she could do.
One last chance to reach out. One last thing to ensure all their safety.
Their survival. She dragged herself off the couch and towards her writing desk.
Pulling the paper towards her, she began to write two letters.
“Gnash!”
The little goblin raised his head from the pile of cushions he had crawled under, “Gnash here, lady does not need to shout.”
She held out the envelope to him, “I need you to deliver these letters.”
The goblin scrambled towards her excitedly, reverentially taking the envelopes from her hand, “yes lady, of course lady, Gnash will go directly.”
“For their eyes-only Gnash, let no one else see you,” said Rosamund.
The goblin nodded enthusiastically, a wide grin on his face, “of course lady, no one shall see Gnash.”
The goblin vanished, the echo of his cackle down the staircase the only indication that he was on his way. She sat back in the chair and closed her eyes and prayed that the little goblins magic was enough to fool the guards of Tidehall and the Onyx Tower.