Page 126 of Waking Roslyn

“Yes, you are,” he said as he looked at me with concern and empathy. “You said so yourself after you woke up. Physically, you have no bleeding wounds, but wasn’t it you who told me about the stories that hurt us?”

I arched my back against the tension there. John noticed and moved to sit beside me, placing a hand against the middle of my back. “What’s the story here?”

There was tremendous comfort in his question. It gave me permission to put it into words. I leaned to the side and laid my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes as I started to talk. “That’s the story of a girl who just wanted to be accepted, but who was hated instead.” Tears dripped from my eyes. “That’s the story of a prejudice that grew so large that the boys who should have been her friends turned into men who tried to kill her.” The last few words were barely discernible as I crumpled into him and wept.

***

There was much I still wanted to talk about with John, but we were interrupted not long after my breakdown, and we didn’t have a chance to spend time together until the next day.

I missed the days of running around in the forest with John. I missed our cozy adventure in the hovel surrounded by rain with no one watching or looking for us.

I was getting tired of acting as if John were only a guard to me, and since my mother clearly approved of him, I decided to stop caring that people were watching.

So I went to the drawing room and rang for tea.

A maid entered soon after with a tea tray, setting it carefully on the table in front of me and then looking up with concern. “Are you all right, my lady?”

I smiled at her concern. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

She left through the open door, and I directed my attention to John, who stood by the wall. “Come sit with me?”

His brow rose. “Really?”

“You told me I don’t have to pretend with you. So I’m not going to pretend that I don’t want you to come visit with me over tea.”

A smile raised the corners of his mouth, but I could see the concern that still tensed his features.

He crossed the room and sat beside me, leaning his forearms on his knees. “I haven’t had many opportunities to sit and have tea in a fine room such as this.”

“Perhaps we’ll have to remedy that,” I said, picking up the pot and pouring tea into both cups.

“So, what now, my lady?” John asked. “You yourself have vanquished your foes—”

“Hardly,” I protested.

“No, no. There’s no mistake. And it was a very impressive display of skill.”

“And who do I have to thank for that?” I teased.

He grinned. “Me.”

I chuckled. “Your humility is impressive.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he said in a haughty tone.

I let out a happy sigh and handed him a cup, which he held around the rim instead of by the handle. “You do realize that the fact that you were willing to teach me ended up saving my life?”

He looked over at me, and his brows dove into a V of worry. “I do realize. I’m just grateful it was enough.”

“I don’t understand why the king won’t just take my title now,” I lamented.

“What?”

“My father and I brought it up with the king again when we were discussing all of yesterday’s…events. I am not of age until my twentieth birthday. So the king won’t do it until then. Even though he can see the danger.”

He searched my face. “You still feel unsafe?”

I nodded. “What happens if Nina decides she should take up the cause that her father and brother believed in? She could hire an assassin just as easily as her father did. Or perhaps she’ll try to kill me herself.”