Page 10 of Waking Roslyn

“Oi!” Tyson said from a few yards away. “Don’t take it out on the plants.”

I took a deep breath and chuckled. “Right,” I said, trying to regain my good humor. There was no need for me to take out my mood on the innocent plants. It wasn’t their fault that Lord Rockwell had returned.

“At least the duke and duchess didn’t stay long,” Tyson pointed out.

I frowned at the dirt. “It was long enough.”

“Oh, come off it. The duke was downright pleasant considering the circumstances.”

“I know,” I said. My gratitude for the duke’s mercy was immense. “You know it’s not the duke I have a problem with.”

“You’re spoiled,” Tyson teased. “The duchess acted just like I would expect her to. They are the sovereign rulers of this land, after all.”

I conceded that was true as I dug more gently into the earth. We had all been spoiled by their years of absence.

Adjusting to the presence of the sovereign family had been jarring. Their arrival had been unannounced and unexpected. Lord Edmund Rockwell and his wife had arrived with his parents, the Duke and Duchess of Winberg, nearly a month ago. It was meant to only be a visit. However, the situation with Magistrate Reeve had prompted the duke and duchess to install their son here permanently to oversee things and try to mend the situation.

“Besides,” Tyson continued, “the demanding duchess is gone now, so why are you so huffy?”

I grinned, appreciating the ribbing, but not wanting to explain. “No reason. I’ll do my best to get my huffiness under control.”

Tyson was right. My life here was good. I had friends, mentors, and family. I needed to get my head straight and shove down my annoyance. Whether I wanted Lord Rockwell here or not was irrelevant. I was a groundskeeper, a servant—his servant—bound to do as he bid. I tried not to allow that thought to make me bitter.

Years ago, when I was still a child, Lord Rockwell had lived here for a few months, assisting his brother’s widow, Princess Marilee. At least, that’s what I’d believed. In truth, he’d been gathering information, and he’d asked me to help. I’d been an eager student, and for a few weeks, he’d turned me into a novice spy, chasing after James Sutton, who lived on the neighboring estate. Sir James hadn’t taken kindly to the subterfuge, and I’d been scolded for the part I’d played. I was fortunate that Lord Rockwell had not stayed in residence for long after that. The years since then had left Bridgefield mostly empty of masters and mistresses. I’d grown up alongside the other Bridgefield servants, taking care of one another and maintaining the house for the rare occasions when a member of the ducal family wished to use it.

Being left to ourselves had made us all a bit spoiled, no doubt about it. Still…

“I miss training. It’s been weeks.” I was used to sparring with the others regularly, almost daily. I was used to tussling with the lads and teasing the lasses. But since the duke’s arrival, we’d suspended our jaunts over to Sutton Manor in favor of remaining at our posts and doing our best to ensure our continued employment. I loved my job and had every intention of showing my worth.

Tyson looked over with a knowing grin. “I’m sure we can remedy that.”

“Tonight?” I suggested, grateful he seemed as eager to get back to training as I was.

“Tonight,” he agreed.

I’d have to send Gretchen to Sutton so that Falstone and the others would know to expect us. Perhaps a solid bout with Marcus would put me in a better frame of mind. My fingers itched to get my hands on a weapon and enjoy the challenge of a good training session.

Roslyn

It was only my first evening here and already I felt safe, safer than I had since Lisette and I had left her father’s home in the countryside and moved to Winhaven. This place allowed me to breathe. Whether that was due to the lack of curious gazes, or being surrounded by trees and color-flecked hills, it didn’t matter. It all combined to allow the tight knot under my sternum to ease. I hadn’t even realized the constant tension I’d been holding until some of it dissipated. Though I should have recognized it as an accumulation of my pain. Old hurts and the pain of abandonment had lodged inside of me. I carried it under my sternum and buried behind my shoulder blade. But I’d gotten used to it. I’d spent so much time covering up the terror and shoving aside the loss of my parents that it was simply part of me now. I’d tried to share those things with Lisette when I’d first gone to live with her, but I’d quickly realized she didn’t understand what I meant when I said I had a story trapped under my ribs, and I’d learned not to speak of it. My mother and her family spoke of the stories in their bones as if it were common knowledge, but I’d found that the noble class scoffed at such things. That was another reason I’d learned to confide in animals. They seemed to understand everything I said. They listened to my complaints and didn’t seem weighed down by them. My admissions of loneliness didn’t hurt them.

Being at Bridgefield was a different kind of loneliness. Loneliness and I were old friends by now. My existence occupied this strange in-between space where I was constantly waiting to be called back home and constantly disappointed when I wasn’t. It was difficult to connect with others when I couldn’t tell them who I was. Still, this place called to me, and when I’d stood at my window after dinner with the moonlight beckoning for me to come out into the night, I’d felt safe doing so. I’d pulled out my darkest cloak and put on my boots, anxious to greet the stars and the cool air.

I hadn’t exactly snuck out, but the fact that no one had taken notice of me as I descended the stairs and let myself out the back door felt like a triumph. I was out and about of my own accord, which was not something I had done often while living with Lisette. After leaving my parents, I’d been too frightened to be on my own. Then after we’d moved to the palace at Winhaven, I’d been surrounded by guards and curious nobility. I had longed for the chance to be outside, but my need to stay unnoticed had prohibited it.

So much of my life in the last four years had been consumed with waiting. I was always, always waiting. Waiting to hear from my mother. Waiting for news of Saldine. Waiting for the king to marry. Waiting for one of my enemies to find me. Waiting for more threats to come. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

The act of doing nothing was emotionally exhausting. I’d been tired for a long time, and I expected that wouldn’t change anytime soon.

But as I stepped out onto the veranda and into the silver moonlight that lit the stones under my feet, a small part of me felt energized. I walked to the railing and laid my hands against the cold stone. Closing my eyes and tipping my head back, I drew in the sweet scent of night.

I heard the wind weaving through the leaves, making them dance and shimmy. Crickets sang, short and sweet.

Opening my eyes, I smiled at the sight of fireflies blinking in the trees. I moved to the edge of the veranda and stepped down the stairs, walking quickly and quietly into the night, wishing in the most fanciful way that it might enfold me in its calm strength and keep me there.

I was grateful this part of the duchy wasn’t as cold as Winhaven. I’d even heard that they didn’t experience snow in this valley, which suited me quite well. If I was lucky, I might be able to enjoy exploring the grounds here year-round without the risk of freezing my feet off.

I hurried across the smooth, cultivated grass in the gardens. I had already wandered through the flowers earlier this afternoon. Whoever kept the gardens blooming was a master at matching not only the complementary looks of flowers, but also the complementary scents. Most people just smelled a flower and thought it was a nice smell, but I could smell the layers of the scents, and when paired well with other plants, it was like walking through heaven.