Page 170 of The Throne Seeker

After their swim, Roman would barely so much as look at Rose. When they did have to speak, he made it a point to keep his sentences short and direct. She hadn’t even gone back to see Moretti, and his grudge against her still wouldn’t budge.

The following days ran together as they settled into a routine of sorts. They would rise before dawn, have a light breakfast, train until it became too hot, eat lunch, swim for an hour, and then have dinner. She’d end each day by reading and going to bed early, only to wake up and do it again the next day.

Roman never trained her in the same place twice. He began teaching her more than the sword, introducing how to use a small knife in a fight, then archery to keep opponents at a distance. Once, he took her east of the lake to loose rocky terrain, where she struggled greatly. Another time, he took her to a swampy area next to the river, turning them into mud pies. The result was a good scolding from Gretta as they trailed the mud through the hallway.

Onyx enjoyed his new freedom by taking her for long evening rides and exploring the woods. With each passing day, she improved as a rider under Onyx’s guidance. Before long, they’dbecome so accustomed to each other that they didn’t need to speak to know what the other was thinking.

It was all like a dream she didn’t know existed. As time passed, she became stronger—more comfortable in her own skin, finding an inner peace she’d never had.

Although she was thriving at Highland Haven, the same could not be said for Roman.

Every morning, she’d go downstairs and find the bags under his eyes larger than the day before, the usual golden glow of his eyes dulling. She wasn’t sure exactly what his ailment was, but what really worried her was the thought that the Dragonshade hadn’t entirely left his system.

She summoned the courage to mention it one morning, suggesting he rest instead of train. He nearly bit her head off, responding with a short, snappy, “I’m fine.”

She didn’t dare bring it up again.

One afternoon, Roman had to go to the capital for business and said he’d be back later. She offered to join him, but he refused, saying he wanted to go alone. He returned later that day, and whatever his mysterious “business” was, it must have gone terribly because he returned in an even fouler mood than when he’d left.

She wondered how long this could continue until one morning, Roman wasn’t there to greet her.

She found Gretta in the kitchens, covered in a mess of flour, kneading dough. “Have you seen Roman?”

“Oh, he’s not feeling well this morning,” Gretta explained with a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “He told me not to worry, though; he just needs a bit of rest.”

“Is there something I can do?”

“Oh no, dear, you go on and enjoy the day. I’m sure he’ll feel better if he just gets some rest.”

“Oh, okay… Thank you, Gretta.”

Rose debated going for a ride with Onyx, but instead, she spent the day in the library—something she’d been doing a lot in her free time, which seemed to be often these days.

Gretta wasn’t lying when she’d said the manor’s library was impressive. There were so many books, Rose was sure it’d take her lifetime to get through them all. Some of them were even written in languages she didn’t recognize. The worn, faded covers and fragile pages signified they contained something ancient. The perfectly dusted two-story room was filled with dark bookshelves as tall as the ceiling, making good use of the rolling ladders that helped her navigate the mountains of pages.

The library had books containing the histories of Cathan, magical creatures, rare plants within its lands, and more. She frequently found herself studying the other provinces, desperate to know more about the magical world she lived in.

She hadn’t realized how long she’d been reading until the light shining from the paned windows faded, the sun retreating to the mountains, casting a dark purple-pink haze.

She had just begun to gather the books scattered on the table when Gretta burst into the library, carrying a steaming cup of broth in her hands.

Rose frowned, placing a book back onto the shelves. “Gretta? What is it?”

Gretta was practically in tears. “It’s Roman. He’s gone from bad to worse within a matter of hours. I’ve insisted on calling for the healer, but he refuses. He says he’s already been to one. He’s asking for you.”

Rose put the stack of books down. He’d seen a healer? When had he?—

That day he went into the city—it hadn’t been for business at all. He’d gone to see a healer, and by the looks of it, they’d had no cure for his ailment. Why had he not come to her sooner? Did hedislike her so much he’d refuse her help? She, who had saved his life from the Dragonshade? Hadn’t she earned his trust?

“Take me to him,” Rose said at once.

Together, they rushed through the darkening corridors, candles lighting their way through the silent halls, the stillness unsettling her even more.

“He wasn’t able to get out of bed this morning,” Gretta explained, struggling to keep up with her long strides. “I’ve been doing all I can, but nothing I do seems to help.”

Rose placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, Gretta. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” She could only hope. Pray. Curse him and his stupid pride.

Gretta opened the door to his room, where Rose found him weakly sprawled on the bed. The room was modest compared to hers, having a large bed with a solitary window on the opposite wall. But she hardly had time to dwell on details.