Page 69 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

R oman woke Rose early the next morning. The sun was barely peeking out over the hills, leaving a dark-red sky to fill the dusty room with its soft hue.

“It’s time to go,” he whispered.

Rose desperately wanted to fall back asleep and let her body wake naturally, but the smell of smoke lingering kindly reminded her they were still in the tavern.

In any case, if they left now, they’d be in the mountains by late afternoon, and at the manor by nightfall.

The realization helped her wake up, untangling herself from the sheets, the cool air hitting her exposed skin.

She snuck a glance at Roman, who was already up, his back facing her, acting as though nothing had happened.

So she did the same.

Downstairs, the crowd was thin, with only a handful of men having breakfast. The morning scene was a stark contrast to the rowdy night crowd. Although she wished to forgo breakfast, Roman strutted up to the counter and picked up a muffin for each of them.

The tavern owner had the decency to look nervous as Roman approached.

“The room and breakfast are free,” Roman said in a threateningly low voice, refusing to pay him because of the incident last night. “And you’ll give me every penny that man paid you—and the others.”

Others?

Her mouth popped open in surprise.

The short man remained silent, scowling as if torn between compliance and defiance. After a moment, the tavern owner grunted and shuffled to the back, vanishing through the wooden door while muttering curses under his breath.

Not long after, he carried six large bags of coins back.

Six .

He pushed the money across the counter, not daring to get close, probably afraid Roman would make a grab for his arm. She almost thought he would; Roman’s hand was already on the hilt of his sword.

Instead, he nabbed the bags and marched out.

She gave the man a reprimanding glare of her own before she followed.

Roman saddled the horses while she filled their waters by the well. They were about to mount their horses when she asked, “How many?”

He slid her a quick side glance as he did up the straps of his saddle. “Too many. I didn’t wake you because I didn’t want to scare you. But don’t worry, they never came into the room.”

An involuntary shudder ran through her. “Thank you for shielding me.”

He yanked the strap of the saddle. “What have I said about thanking me?”

Rose shifted, wrapping her arms around herself as Roman’s face softened slightly, realizing how harsh he sounded.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—” He cut himself off. “It’s my own fault I made you stay here. I thought it’d be safer. Lesson learned—no more taverns for you.”

She wholeheartedly agreed.

The sky remained clear as they traveled. The roads were quieter than the previous day, with only a handful of fellow travelers passing. They stuck to the main road until they veered off, going west towards the mountains instead of continuing north to the capital.

A sprawling forest of towering trees welcomed them, becoming bigger as they journeyed closer to the mountains.

A fresh, crisp aroma of pine encased her with the light breeze.

Something about it felt magical; perhaps it was the way the sunlight glittered through the leaves, casting playful shadows on the green moss that covered the ground, thriving at the bases of the sturdy trees. It was full of life—pure, natural life.

The sun had fallen behind the mountains as they finally reached their destination.

Rose had to stop and stare.

The grand estate was well-hidden, with giant trees flanking both sides of the long dirt road leading to the front courtyard.

The mansion was built entirely from light-gray stone, the very same stone as the rocky mountains behind it.

Giant pillars held up the front porch, which had two large black lanterns, hanging on either side of the arched double doors.

The base was left overrun with thick green leafy vines, thinning out as they weaved around the windows and stretched to the roof.

Not only was the manor more beautiful than she had imagined, but it was also situated beside a beautiful emerald lake, with water so clear she could see straight to the bottom.

Now she knew where they had come up with the name Highland Haven.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, not knowing how better to describe it. If she had a home like this, she would never leave.

Roman’s mouth tugged to the side. “It is.”

Only a single servant was there to greet them—a robust woman with a generous chest and even wider hips. Her light-auburn hair was styled in a bun, and her cheeks glowed rosy against her fair complexion. Her thin lips curved into a welcoming smile.

“Master Roman,” the woman greeted with open arms, coming down the steps as Rose and Roman dismounted their horses. “It’s been nearly a year since I saw you. Look how you’ve grown! I barely recognized you.”

Roman gave her a rare genuine smile. “It’s good to see you, Gretta,” he said, embracing her with a bear hug.

Gretta peeked over his shoulder to Rose. “And who’s this beautiful lass?” she asked curiously, openly looking her up and down.

“Rosalie Versalles,” she said, “but everyone calls me Rose.”

Gretta’s eyes lit up. “Ah, I finally get to meet the famous Rose.” She patted Roman on the shoulder as she scanned her once again. “I’ve heard so much about you. I feel like I know you already.”

Rose slung Roman a brief side-eye. “Good things, I hope.”

Gretta waved her away. “Oh, of course! Although I’m surprised to see you here with Roman and not one of his brothers. But I suppose Tristan is quite busy, just married and all,” she said with a bright smile.

Rose cringed at the mention of Tristan. She tucked her hair behind her ear as Roman shifted uncomfortably.

To her credit, Gretta picked up on their body language. “Well, come in, come in! You both must be starving. We’ll get you settled in, and then we’ll have supper. I hope you’re alright with soup for dinner. It was such short notice, I didn’t have the chance to plan properly.”

Inside the manor was just as beautiful. The staircase took up the majority of the entrance hall, wide enough to rival the castles.

Its walls were strewn with dark wooden beams and the furniture sat in pristine condition.

The open ceiling soared to the second floor, making it feel that much bigger.

Despite its vacancy, the air was crisp and fresh.

It was quiet. So quiet. She’d have to get used to that.

To her left, an archway led to a sitting room with an oversized fireplace and dark-green velvet couches. Above the fireplace, a woven tapestry depicting the royal family caught her eye. Her heart stung as a young Tristan stared back at her.

She didn’t have long to absorb it all as Gretta guided them up the staircase.

She let her fingers glide over the smooth, dark-wood railing while her shoes effortlessly skimmed the deep-plum stair runner.

The halls were empty, giving Rose the impression there were few servants here besides Gretta.

Maintaining an estate of this size with such limited help must have been a full-time job.

But even so, not a speck of dust was in sight.

At the top of the staircase, she discovered enormous floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned the entire wall, narrow and cathedral-shaped, similar to those in the castle.

Her feet skidded to a stop, her breath stolen by the view.

The lake was at their doorstep, its waters so close that the enormous patio stairs plunged directly into the crystal-clear depths.

Nearby mountain peaks surrounded the lake, offering shelter to the entire valley.

In the heart of the lake sat a flat grassy island encircled by a rocky shore.

The sun had left the sky, leaving behind a purple-pink glaze over the water.

The stars twinkled brighter with the added elevation alongside the twin moons, no more than mere slivers in the sky that night.

She soaked in every glorious detail of it.

Roman sauntered behind her, glancing over her shoulder at the view. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” she confessed softly. “It feels like home.” Her eyes widened as she realized she’d spoken the last bit aloud.

She glanced nervously at Roman, biting her cheek.

He wasn’t looking at the view, but at her. A rare light formed in his eyes as the corners of his lips twitched.

“Which guest room would you like her to stay in?” Gretta asked from down the hall, still shuffling towards the rooms. “I have the west wing room made up, or I can ready another?”

“She’ll have my room.”

Rose’s brows shot upward. “Oh no, I couldn’t— I’m sure the guest room will be more than?—”

Roman spoke over her. “Thank you, Gretta, that’ll be all.”

“Of course,” Gretta said, clearly not bothered at the abrupt dismissal. In fact, she would dare say a mischievous smile rested on her face as she departed and went back downstairs.

Roman led Rose down the long hall to another staircase, which, though narrow, twisted in a circular fashion, winding to one of the towers.

Roman’s room was nothing like she envisioned.

It was so… sophisticated . The large room had three bay windows that protruded out, offering an even better view of the lake and forest from the elevated height.

Dark-auburn curtains draped between the large windows, looking so soft she was tempted to run her fingers over them.

The large bed had four dark-wood canopy posts holding dark-purple curtains that matched the duvet.

Across from the bed sat a wide stone fireplace with a full iron firewood rack stacked beside it.

More windows lined the right side of the room, with a large table and a telescope.

Star charts and parchment remained scattered across the table as if Roman had been here yesterday.

A sturdy wooden bookcase housed hardbacks on various subjects, safeguarded by glass windows to protect the precious pages held within.

Her favorite thing was the porcelain bathtub nestled in the middle of the bay windows, which would allow her to appreciate the view while she bathed. Remarkably, even after all this time, the room still carried his scent.

“I can’t take this,” she said.

Roman cocked an eyebrow, folding his arms. “Does my room not meet your expectations?”

“No—I mean, yes. It exceeds them, really, but?—”

“Then you’ll stay. Or I’ll be offended.”

She threw him an appreciative look, knowing he was trying to make her feel better. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

Rose shifted her gaze, still admiring the room.

Roman cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to get settled. I’ll be just down the stairs to your right, five doors down. Don’t hesitate to ask Gretta for anything you need. I’ll have her move some clothes from Harriet’s room into the closet for you if you need them.”

“Thank you,” she said, knowing it’d irk him.

He gave her a cross stare, to which she winked.

A small smile hovered on his lips but didn’t fully surface. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

The moment he stepped out, her gaze fell on the tub that Gretta had already filled. She smiled, biting her lip as she grabbed a towel, aching to clean up before dinner.

She sniffed the bath salts, pinpointing the source of Roman’s musky cedar scent. She added a generous amount to the tub, breathing in the aroma as the warm, moist air steamed her face.

Relief came as soon as she climbed in, leaning backward and bracing her back against the cold porcelain. With that, she relaxed, the bubbles so dense they covered her from shoulders to toes.

She’d almost fallen asleep when a knock came at the door.

Gretta entered with a smile, bringing more of Harriet’s clothes as promised, and went straight to work, sliding them into the closet for Rose while she soaked.

“Do you manage the whole manor yourself?” she asked.

Gretta picked up another handful of dresses to hang as she said, “Oh, heavens no. But there aren’t many of us.

There’s me, the cook, and two maids. When the royal family returns, the servants from the castle come to help until they leave again.

They used to come often, but ever since the war broke out… well, not much free time.”

Rose gave her a sympathetic smile. “It must get lonely.”

Gretta shook her head fervently. “Oh no, I have family in the city. My mother and brother live there. It’s only about a half-day’s travel from here. I see them every week or so.”

“That’s wonderful. It’s lucky they’re so close.”

“It is,” Gretta agreed, flitting back and forth to the closet and hanging the dresses neatly. “Though, I will say that I’ve missed Roman and his siblings terribly. With no children of my own, I suppose they are the closest thing I’ve got.” Gretta’s eyes dimmed.

“You were close, then?” Rose wanted to know more.

Gretta nodded, a small shine returning to her eyes. “Oh, yes. It was a dream when they’d come during the summers—and even in the winter. I could tell you their favorite spots to swim, their favorite foods, and their fears. They talked about you often, especially the boys.”

Rose gave her a sheepish smile, resting her arm and chin on the edge of the smooth tub. “I’d be so sad when they’d leave those weeks to come here. It was terribly boring at court without them.”

“The feeling was mutual, believe me,” Gretta assured her with an exasperated look.

“Even Xavier, who didn’t seem to care about much of anything, would perk up at the mere sound of your name.

He’d try to hide it, but I knew better. Tristan spoke of literally nothing else.

Then, of course, Roman always adored you, too. ”

Rose stared down into the heap of bubbles she’d cupped in her hands. “I suppose some things do change.”

“What do you mean, child?”

Rose hesitated, wondering how much she should disclose.

“Everything has changed since I left last year, Gretta… As soon as I came back into their lives, I’ve done nothing but ruin things for all of them.

Even now, I think Roman still questions me.

I feel as though he looks at me like I’m the snake hiding in the garden… Perhaps I am.”

Gretta paused, draping a folded dress over her arm as she studied her. “You don’t look like a snake to me. Plus, I know that boy better than almost anyone. And he most certainly wouldn’t let a snake sleep in his bed.”

Rose was thankful for the heat of the tub to mask her flushed cheeks. She changed the subject. “Thank you for the dresses,” she said, grateful for the extended wardrobe.

“Of course!” Gretta hung the last set. “Right, well, I’ll let you finish washing up, and I’ll see you at dinner. The dining hall is just down the main stairwell. Once you’ve done that, take a right, and then it’s the third door on the left.”

With another thank you from Rose, Gretta shuffled out of the room, leaving her to get dressed.