Page 116 of The Throne Seeker

Rose stood, wiping her wet hands on her dress. “Forgive me if I don’t thank you.”

He followed, standing. “What will you do?”

She paused. “There’s nothing Icando. Tristan has made it clear he has no intention of letting me go. So I suppose I’ll have to wait and see if anyone is brave enough to go against him. But it seems unlikely, since I have so little to tempt them with.”

Roman gazed at her with that unfamiliar look on his face again. “I’m sorry.” He said it as though her feelings mattered.

Rose shook off the clutch in her chest, going to the horses.

“Me, too,” she whispered to herself.

CHAPTER 50

Rose’s spirit withered with each day passing day. She scarcely ate or slept, the circles under her eyes becoming more obvious every time she glanced in a mirror. She couldn’t remember the last time a smile had graced her lips. Every morning, she forced herself to leave her room to train or take a long ride. Once she was back, she locked herself in her room with a book for the remainder of the day.

Her mother fussed, of course, knowing she was spiraling. But there was nothing her mother could do to protect her this time. She had to come to grips with the fact that Tristan was getting married.

And she’d have to watch.

Rose didn’t think it could possibly get any worse until the day before the wedding when she received a note from Princess Satin herself, requesting her presence in her sitting room.

“What could she possibly want?” her mother asked, slapping the note down onto the table with a huff.

If there was one person Rose wanted to see even less than Tristan, it was Satin.

“You don’t have to go,” her mother said. “She’s not the future queen yet. You don’t have to do anything she asks.”

“But if I don’t go, won’t it seem impertinent?” she countered.

Her mother gave a loud sigh, not bothering to answer because she knew it was true.

So Rose accepted.

And she had a horrible feeling she’d regret it.

Rose made her way through the sunny corridors to the large sitting room. She’d been here many times, usually with her mother or Harriet. It was composed entirely of cream and blue hues, decorated with a painting of one of Cathan’s famous ships, its name scribbled illegibly at the bottom. Women of the court often came here to gossip, sip tea, and enjoy crumpets.

To her surprise, Princess Satin was by herself, accompanied only by one of her handmaids. She wore a modest purple dress that accentuated her petite frame. Her light-brown hair, with its warm undertones, was neatly slicked back. Her brown eyes sparkled at the sight of her.

“Rose!” Satin exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face. “I’m so glad you could make time to see me. Come sit.” She gestured to the couch opposite her.

Rose threw on the best smile she could. “Of course, thank you, your Highness.” She did as instructed and lowered herself to the very edge of the cream-upholstered couch, trying not to look too stiff.

“You must be wondering why I’ve asked you here.” Satin fanned out her dress across the fabric of the baby-blue couch. Even the way she sat was poised—the training of a princess, she supposed. “I’ve been learning everything I can about this place and the royal family before the wedding, and everyone I’ve talked to has said you’re practically family.”

Her words were a stab to the heart. “I could only wish.”

“I hear you and Tristan are particularly close, so I thought maybe you could help me understand him.”

Rose kept her expression carefully blank as she studied Satin. Did she not know of Tristan and Rose’s history? The longer she thought about it, the more she realized she probably didn’t, certain that everyone involved wanted to ignore the small detail.

Satin was still looking at her for an answer.

“Understand him?” Rose prodded.

“Yes. I’ve loved getting to know him, but I have to admit, at times, he seems quite… distant,” Satin said, playing with her gloves. “I just want us to get along. I know it’s an arranged marriage and all, but my parents had an arranged marriage, and they’re practically soulmates.” She gave a light laugh. “I’m sorry if I’m rambling; it’s just that I’ve become quite fond of him, and I want him to be fond of me, too.”

She should’ve never agreed to come. “Oh.” She didn’t know what to say. “You know, I’m not sure I’m the best one to ask. Harriet might be better; she’s his sister, after all.”