Chapter 223: The Right Time
Without wasting another second, they mounted their horses once again and disappeared down the road.
Three days passed...
The palace had heard nothing from Cedric or the men who had ridden with him.
Julian stood in the palace garden, gripping the small wooden sword Cedric had carved for him. Ever since Cedric had begun teaching him, the boy had insisted on practising every single day, hoping he would become strong enough to protect the people he loved.
With a determined grunt, he swung the wooden sword through the air before attempting another step. Unfortunately, his foot caught against the uneven ground, and he tumbled forward onto the grass.
Rebecca immediately rose from the nearby bench.
"Julian!" she called with concern. "Are you alright?"
The boy quickly pushed himself upright, brushing the grass from his clothes while several green blades clung stubbornly to his hair.
"I’m alright, Mother," he answered with an embarrassed smile.
Before Rebecca could say anything else, Julian suddenly looked beyond her.
His face brightened instantly. "Rosalind!" he shouted happily.
Rebecca turned just in time to see Rosalind walking toward them through the garden with her usual gentle smile.
It was a sight that made Rebecca pause.
The frightened little boy who had once hidden behind her at every unfamiliar face was slowly disappearing. Day by day, Julian was beginning to laugh again, trust again, and finally feel at home within the palace walls.
Rosalind smiled warmly at Julian as he waved excitedly at her from across the garden.
Rebecca rose to her feet, instinctively straightening her posture. "Your Majesty," she greeted respectfully.
Rosalind immediately reached out and gently guided her back down before she could remain standing.
"Please forgive his manners," Rebecca said apologetically. "I’ve told him not to address you by your name."
Rosalind shook her head with a soft laugh before taking the seat beside her.
"I was the one who asked him to call me Rosalind," she replied. "So there’s nothing for you to apologize for."
She glanced sideways at Rebecca with a reassuring smile.
"And you don’t have to be so formal whenever we’re alone. I’d rather we simply talk."
Rebecca hesitated for a brief moment before slowly nodding her head. She still wasn’t accustomed to being treated with such kindness inside a palace, especially by the queen herself, and because of that she couldn’t help the awkward laugh that escaped her.
"Children can be incredibly stubborn," she said, trying to ease the atmosphere between them. After a short pause, she looked toward Rosalind. "How is your little one doing?"
Rosalind instinctively rested a gentle hand against her stomach. It was still flat, and there was nothing to show yet, but the thought alone was enough to make her smile. "So far... very well," she answered honestly.
Rebecca was relieved to hear it.
"It’ll be our first child together," Rosalind continued softly. "We’re both happy, but I’d be lying if I said there isn’t still a little fear mixed in with that happiness."
Rebecca understood those feelings better than most. Too much had happened in such a short time, and danger still lingered around the palace.
"Everything will be alright once he’s caught," she said quietly, hoping her words carried even a little comfort.
Rosalind nodded. "I hope so."
Silence settled comfortably between them as both women watched Julian practising across the garden. The little boy swung the wooden sword with determination, stumbled again, and quickly climbed back to his feet without giving up.
A small smile touched Rosalind’s lips. "He’s taking Cedric’s lessons very seriously."
Rebecca’s eyes softened as they remained on her son. "He is," she agreed. "Although I think he simply misses Cedric."
"I wouldn’t be surprised," Rosalind replied with a smile. "Cedric has been wonderful with him. He has always been surprisingly good with children."
Rebecca turned to look at her, curiosity flickering across her face. "Does Lord Cedric have children of his own?"
Rosalind blinked before letting out a quiet laugh. "As far as I know, he doesn’t even have a wife."
Rebecca looked genuinely surprised. "So... no children either."
Rosalind nodded. "None."
Rebecca’s lips curved thoughtfully as she looked back toward the garden. "I wouldn’t have guessed that," she admitted. "He seems like someone who should already have a family."
"He does, doesn’t he?" Rosalind agreed with a chuckle. "Sometimes I wonder whether marriage simply isn’t something he believes in."
Rebecca lowered her gaze for a moment before answering quietly. "Some people find it difficult to open their hearts. Trust doesn’t always come easily, and neither does loving someone enough to build a life together."
Her voice carried more meaning than the words themselves, and Rosalind caught it immediately.
After everything Rebecca had endured with Alaric, it wasn’t difficult to understand why she felt that way.
Rosalind looked ahead thoughtfully before speaking again. "Maybe," she said gently.
"But I also think that when you finally meet the right person, you’ll find yourself willing to do things you never thought you could."
Rebecca remained silent for a moment as those words settled inside her. She wasn’t sure she believed them completely, yet hearing them somehow made the future seem a little less impossible.
A faint smile slowly found its way onto her face. "I suppose you’re living proof of that."
Rosalind laughed softly. "I am."
Rebecca looked at her with quiet admiration. "I truly believe you’re the happiest woman in all of Eryndor."
Rosalind’s smile widened, and instead of denying it, she glanced toward the palace where Rowan was undoubtedly buried beneath another mountain of responsibilities. "I think I am," she admitted without hesitation.
"Not because life has been easy, but because no matter how difficult it becomes, I know I won’t have to face it alone."
Rebecca followed her gaze toward the palace, and for the first time in a long while, she found herself wondering if perhaps happiness wasn’t something that had disappeared forever.
Perhaps... it was simply waiting for the right time to find her again.
