Chapter 9
Rosie ran up the stone steps and to the kitchens, realizing that Mrs. Woods would question why such a simple task took well over an hour. As she plopped the small glass bottle onto the counter, the cook crossed her arms and eyed Rosie suspiciously. "Took you long enough." she commented, eyeing Rosie's discheveled appearance and flushed cheeks. Then, noticing the round red bruises on the girl's neck, "Seems like you made a simple tincure well-worth that boy's while. Did you finally make that lovesick lad's dreams come true?" Rosalie's cheeks turned a deep crimson. "Not exactly," she replied.
"Shame," Mrs. Woods humphed. "It seems you both could use a bit of loosening up." "Well, if you're going to dally with a castle lad, good it be that one. Half of the court ladies already go to him for their teas to prevent babes in their bellies. If your predecessor had half a wit about her she would have done the same, and would still be here instead of being tied down to a boy who will smell of hog's blood for the rest of his life. I doubt that boy will let any shame or harm come to you, with the exception of those huge welts on your neck!" Rosalie lifted her fingers to touch where the marks must be. She lifted her now tangled curls from behind her shoulders and positioned them over her neck to hide the evidence of her recent activities.
The old woman chuckled as she lugged a bag of potatoes across the room. "Mrs. Woods knows.... Mrs. Woods knows all!" She said with a wink.
The rest of the day passed somewhat uneventfully. Rosie continued to help in the kitchens, and Betty returned from her excursion with her beau, donning far fewer love marks than Rosie herself bore. Since Betty had returned, Rosie was no longer required to serve in the dining hall, thus eliminating any potential drama with the ladies of the house, at least for tonight. As Rosie headed up the gray stone steps to the room she and Betty shared, she paused and let out a sigh. She had her first kiss, her first physical encounter with a man, and her first proposal, all in one day. And despite the fact that she never considered the possibility of romance with Kieran before this afternoon, she was glad he was the first one she allowed to kiss her, touch her, and more. He understood her better than any man alive, and she knew to her core that he would give anything he had just to see her smile.
As she walked into her room, she noticed Bette sitting on the windowsill in her nightgown. "How was your date?" Rosalie asked her slim blonde roommate. "Oh, mostly dull. I think I've grown tired of Saul. He talks too much, listens to little, and thinks himself much more witty and clever than he actually happens to be," Betty replied. "That's a shame," Rosie mused, "You really seemed to like him." The blonde teenager put her hands in her lap and shrugged her shoulders, "Well, I did, and now I don't, and that's that!" As Rosie turned her head, Bette let out a gasp, and pushed Rosie's hair back to fully reveal the marks she had acquired from her errand in the cellar. Rosie grabbed the hair, and placed it back where it had been, the color of overripe strawberries engulfing her cheeks. "Seems like you had a much better time than I did!" "Who is he? How did you meet him? You must tell all!" the roommate demanded to know. Rosie only bit her lower lip and looked down at her hands, the red color of her cheeps growing deeper in embarrassment at the younger girl's discovery of her afternoon escapade.
"Fine," Betty pouted. "If you won't tell me the juicy details, at least sit with me and watch the show our mage has decided to put on for us tonight." Betty drew back the curtains, revealing a sky filled with a garden of flowers, each drawn over the sea of stars in strokes of richly-colored light. Rosalie's jaw dropped and her mouth hung agape. In the center of the garden sat a huge, blooming red rose, ten times the size of the moon that peaked from behind it's edge. Betty continued to hold the curtain for a few moments, before narrowing her eyes at her roommate, and musing, somewhat accusingly, "I wonder what could have put our young wizard in such a good mood..." She then dropped the curtain and hopped into her simple bed, hugging a round pillow as she closed her eyes. Rosalie drew back the curtain again, still staring at Kieran's breathtaking display of adoration, and tears welled up in her eyes. Never had she imagined anyone could deem her worthy of such magnificence.
Rosie walked slowly to her own bed, pulled off her work clothes, leaving only her chemise, and crawled under her quilts. Her eyelids gradually drooped as she approached slumber, and she pondered her future. A few years down the road, once her brothers were old enough to take her place supporting the family, perhaps she could see herself as the mage's wife. She imagined living with Kieran in a small cabin at the edge of the royal estate, cooking at her own hearth, while surrounded by half a dozen sandy-haired blue-eyed children. She snuggled into her pillow comforted by the thought, and drifted into unconsciousness dreaming of the life that might be.