Chapter 200: After The Quiet
"... The carriage will be here any moment now, so we should get ready," Rosalind said after the moment passed, forcing herself back into focus as she straightened slightly.
Rowan nodded in agreement, and she added quickly, "I’ll wash up quickly,"
"Alright, call me if you need any help," he said gently, and Rosalind smiled faintly in response before he turned away.
Rowan used that moment to begin packing their things, folding their clothes carefully and placing them one after another into the luggage since they had not been packed earlier.
As he worked, his gaze drifted over Rosalind’s hat and a slow smile formed on his lips because he remembered how endearing she had looked wearing it, and without thinking too much about it he placed it back into the luggage before continuing.
His eyes scanned the room once more, checking for anything they might have forgotten, until they landed on the jar resting by the bedside table. "Almost missed you," he muttered quietly as he walked over and picked it up.
He knew Rosalind would have been disappointed if they had left it behind, so he made sure it was safely packed before he straightened up again.
When he was finally done, he glanced toward the bath and noticed that Rosalind was still inside, which made him exhale softly in quiet disbelief because she had been in there for quite some time.
He wondered briefly if it was always like this with women, though the thought remained half-formed since Rosalind was the only woman he had ever truly known closely enough to compare.
Shaking off the thought, he moved quietly toward the balcony instead and stepped outside where the sea stretched endlessly before him.
The view immediately pulled him back to their first day there, and as his gaze lowered to the sand below, he could almost see them walking side by side along the shoreline, talking and laughing without any urgency in the world, and that memory settled heavily in his chest because, in truth, this had been the best week of his life even if he did not say it out loud.
Not long after, Rowan noticed the coachman arriving at a steady pace...
He turned back into the room just as Rosalind stepped out of the bathroom.
"You’ve packed already?" she asked, clearly surprised.
"Yeah," he replied quietly. "He’s already here, so we should not keep him waiting."
Rosalind nodded in understanding, though there was a subtle shift in her expression as the reality of leaving settled in, and together they finished the remaining small tasks without much conversation.
Breakfast passed in a quiet stillness that felt different from the lively days they had spent there, and when they were finally ready, they stepped outside and made their way toward the carriage that had brought them.
As the house slowly disappeared behind them, Rosalind turned her head to look back, and a heavy smile touched her lips even though it carried a trace of reluctance.
****
Rosalind found herself already inside the carriage, and soon the wheels turned as they began their journey back.
Her eyes lingered on the fading view until the house was nothing more than a distant shape swallowed by trees and distance.
"We can always come back some other time," Rowan said gently, watching her.
"When we get old?" Rosalind asked, her voice carrying less energy than before.
"I just know we will come back someday," he replied simply as the carriage moved along the rough road, shaking slightly with each uneven turn.
The journey continued past stretches of trees and scattered bushes until the road gradually became smoother, and as they neared Eryndor, the landscape began to change. Slowly, the palace came into view, its tall structure rising against the sky with its flag waving steadily above it, and with each passing moment the feeling of their brief paradise grew farther away behind them.
The carriage eventually came to a stop at the palace entrance where servants were already waiting, moving forward quickly to attend to their luggage. Rowan stepped down first with steady composure and then reached his hand up for Rosalind, helping her down carefully.
"Even the air feels different," Rowan muttered as his gaze swept across the palace grounds.
"I was about to say the same thing," Rosalind replied, and they shared a small smile as their hands instinctively found each other again, fingers tightening slightly as though grounding themselves.
"We’ve got this," Rosalind said softly, more to herself than anything else.
It did not take long before Cedric hurried toward them, his usual composed stride replaced with urgency that immediately caught their attention.
"Your Majesty," he said quickly as he bowed, then turning slightly toward Rosalind, "Your Grace."
"Cedric," Rowan acknowledged. "What is going on? Why are you so rushed?"
Cedric hesitated for a moment as though weighing whether to speak here or wait until they were inside, but whatever he was holding onto could not be contained any longer. Rowan noticed the delay and narrowed his eyes slightly.
"You cannot even wait until we enter?" he asked.
"There is a big problem, Your Majesty," Cedric finally said.
Rowan and Rosalind exchanged a quick glance.
"What problem?" Rowan asked, his tone sharpening slightly as he tried to understand how a week away could already result in something serious enough to shake Cedric.
Cedric swallowed hard, his expression tense as if the words themselves were difficult to release. For a moment, he looked like he might delay it again, but then he forced himself to speak.
"He is alive, Your Majesty."
Silence fell instantly.
"Who is alive?" Rosalind asked, though even as she spoke, an uneasy chill crawled up her skin without explanation.
Rowan’s expression hardened as impatience finally cut through the confusion.
Cedric lowered his head slightly before answering.
"Alaric’s son."
And just like that, it felt as though a cold bucket of water had been poured over both of them, freezing the air between them in an instant.
