13. Rose

13

Rose

“Rosamund, is everything all right?” My father peered at me across the table, one brow quizzically raised. “You’ve barely touched your dinner. You hardly ate anything at the communion feast earlier, either.”

I looked him right in the eyes, hoping the guilt wasn’t written all over my face. “I’m okay, Papa. Just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“You’ve been tired a lot lately.” His eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. “What’s been keeping you up all these nights?”

I could hardly say it was Sebastian, so I swallowed hard and lied. “It’s the Tetrad.”

He put his spoon down and nodded slowly. “Ah. Of course. I should’ve known. It’s coming up fast, isn’t it? Your ritual date?”

“Yes, Papa. Very fast.”

“Are you not excited?”

“Of course I am. But I must confess… it’s all a little overwhelming,” I said, folding my hands on my lap beneath the table. “Now that Elise has served her part, I’m the only one left, so soon there will be even more attention on me than usual. And there’s already been so much.”

“You’re right. Your status has granted you a lot of attention over the years, and that can be rather overwhelming,” Papa said. He leaned forward, eyes crinkling at the corners. “The outsiders have a saying. With great power comes great responsibility. Most people crave power, but they don’t understand how the responsibility part of it can slowly become a millstone around their necks.”

I nodded. “It can, yes.”

“What I am trying to say is—I understand. As the governor, I am responsible for so many lives, and on occasion, I also find myself feeling exhausted by it all,” he said. “But I always try to remember how important my work is, and that gives me the strength and energy to go on. You must do the same. Remember how important your ritual is. How many lives it will save and enrich.”

“That’s a good way to look at it, Papa.” I looked down at my half-full bowl of stew and faked a yawn. “But if it’s all right with you, I might turn in early tonight, because I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. If I go to bed now and get a full, uninterrupted night of sleep, I think I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling much better.”

“That’s a good idea.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “I’ll try to be quiet down here, so I don’t wake you up.”

“Thank you, Papa.” I rose to my feet and reached for my bowl.

My father shook his head. “No, no. Leave it. I’ll put it away later,” he said. “You go and rest now.”

Another streak of guilt flashed through me. He was being so kind and understanding, and I was repaying that kindness by lying right to his face. It had to be done, though, because the only way I could leave Alderwood was through deception and trickery.

“Thank you, Papa,” I repeated in a low murmur. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Of course, darling. Bright and early.”

The awful pangs of guilt gnawing at my stomach weren’t enough to deter me from my plan. If I didn’t go tonight, I might never get the chance to explore the outside world again. Sebastian was right—after all my years of service, I deserved a night of freedom. Besides, it was only one night. A few hours, really. What harm could that do?

I faked another yawn and trudged upstairs, lantern in hand. When I reached my bedroom, I quickly grabbed some blankets from the chest at the foot of my bed and arranged them under the sheets to form a vaguely person-sized lump. That way, if my father got the urge to check on me in the middle of the night, he’d see it and assume it was me, quietly slumbering.

Once I was done, I found an old pair of winter boots at the back of my closet and pulled them on over a thick pair of socks. I couldn’t wear my usual shoes, because my father might notice them missing from the wooden rack by the door when he passed it on his way to the stairs later.

I snuffed out the lantern, tiptoed into the hall again, and called downstairs. “Goodnight!” I said before loudly closing my door.

Papa called up in a distracted tone, presumably believing I was on the bedroom side of the door. “Goodnight, darling! Sleep well!”

I sucked in a deep breath. Then I tiptoed down the hall, quiet as a mouse. I stopped halfway, one hand carefully reaching for the door handle on my left. The room beyond the door used to be my nursery, and it would have been my younger brother or sister’s bedroom if my mother had survived my birth and gone on to give my father more children. Now, it sat unused, filled with boxes of my mother’s possessions, a shrine to her memory.

I carefully opened the door, hoping it wouldn’t creak, and then I stepped into the room and closed it behind me, just as carefully. It didn’t make a peep, despite all the years of neglect. A helping hand from the Entity, I assumed.

The thought spurred me on, filling me with even more strength and determination. After all, the Entity only helped those who deserved it, so if I was doing the wrong thing, that help wouldn’t have arrived.

I crept over to the window and opened it, hoping our neighbors weren’t hanging about on that side of their house. Thankfully, the windows were all dark, and I couldn’t see or hear any movement beyond the walls. They were probably out somewhere.

With a deep breath, I swung my legs over the windowsill and hooked my feet on the ivy-covered trellis that stood flush against the wall. Heart in my throat, I clambered downward, praying no one would see me. The dark night provided some cover, but all it would take was a neighbor peering out the window at the exact wrong moment, or a random passerby spotting me, and then I would be caught.

I made it to the bottom without any problems. Breathing a sigh of relief, I pulled my shawl over my head and hurried down the tiny lane between the houses, knowing I couldn’t take the main street. Even though it was dark, it was only six-thirty, so a lot of people were still out and about in the town, drinking at the tavern, taking evening strolls, or crossing back and forth between houses for Sunday dinner visits.

If any of them spotted me, I could simply lie and say I was out for a walk, but then I’d have to pray they didn’t bump into my father anytime soon, because they might mention that they’d seen me tonight, and then my entire adventure would be exposed.

Once again, the Entity lent me a helping hand. Not one person spotted me as I hurried through the town, head down and face half-hidden beneath my shawl, and I made it out to the woods without a hitch.

Heart thrumming with a mix of fear and anticipation, I stepped beyond the tree line and headed northwest, using the bright starlight slicing through the forest canopy to guide my way.

When I was close to the boundary fence, I slowed my steps, eyes narrowing with concentration. I knew the tunnel was still present—I’d checked earlier this afternoon, once Rite of Communion was over—but it wouldn’t be so easy to find in the dark, even with the aid of the starlight.

The boys had hidden it well, between two hulking old trees, and they’d covered the small entrance with long sticks and debris from the forest. I’d spent over an hour searching for it earlier, on my hands and knees brushing at every pile of leaves I saw on the ground, and I’d gotten my dress so dirty that I had to lie and tell everyone I’d tripped during a walk through the woods to explain the mess.

Pursing my lips, I stopped, eyes falling on a gnarled log. I recalled spotting this exact log only moments before finding the tunnel entrance, so I had to be close now. Part of me wished I hadn’t covered it back up after finding it, but another part of me knew it was a wise move, just in case anyone else from town just so happened to wander through this part of the woods today.

A cry of victory slipped from my mouth as I finally spotted the pile of leaves I’d dumped earlier, and I crouched to brush them aside. Beneath that pile lay several sticks that I’d used to cover the dark entrance, just like the boys did all those years ago. I tossed them aside, took another deep breath, and lowered myself into the tunnel.

It was short, but it was very constricted and pitch-black inside. I had to feel my way through all that darkness, hands clawing at the walls of tightly packed dirt, until a sliver of light finally appeared in front of me, letting me know I’d finished the journey to the other side.

I reached up, putting my hands on each side of the hole, and then I climbed up and out, heart pounding with exhilaration. I made it! I was finally on the other side of the boundary fence.

As I brushed the dirt and leaves from my dress, I turned and cast my eyes toward the humming fence, brows dipping in a frown. I thought I might feel different on the other side of it, but I felt exactly the same. I had no idea if that was good or bad. Perhaps it wasn’t either. It simply was .

I hurried down the fence line, stomach fluttering with excitement. When I reached the meeting tree, Sebastian was already there, leaning against it with his arms folded across his broad chest.

“You made it,” he said with a grin, stepping away from the tree.

“I did,” I said breathlessly.

“Ready?” His chin dipped southward. “My car’s about an hour that way, just off the main road.”

“I’m ready.” I smiled back at him and started walking.

The heated excitement was growing in me by the second, and by the time the two of us had made it all the way to the bottom corner of the fence, I felt fit to burst. I’d chattered relentlessly the entire time, telling Sebastian everything I wanted to do in the big city, and he’d listened patiently, occasionally interjecting with his suggestions.

Now, we were finally at the road. The moment of truth had arrived.

“That’s your car?” I asked, pointing to a sleek black vehicle parked on a slight incline between two trees.

Sebastian nodded. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

I laughed and hurried over to it. He opened the door and told me to put the seatbelt on, and then he went around to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat. He inserted a key somewhere near the wheel, and then he clicked a button. Everything lit up, and I jolted with surprise, wide eyes on the map that had suddenly appeared on a rectangular display board on what appeared to be the car’s main control area.

“What is that?” I asked.

“This screen?” he asked, brows rising. I nodded, and he went on. “It’s built into the dash in most cars these days. Er, dashboard, I mean. It shows information like maps, music playlists, settings for the car temperature, and so on.”

“Wow.” My eyes were like saucers now. “You can control the temperature?”

“It’s not magic, Rose. Just technology.” Sebastian grinned and pulled onto the road. On the right side, there was a large green sign with white print, pointing out that Montreal was seventy-five miles north.

We turned left, and I frowned, head tipping with confusion. I looked at the map on the screen to confirm my suspicion—that we were heading south, not north—and then I looked over at Sebastian. “We’re going the wrong way.”

“I know.” He glanced over at me with a smile. “We’re going to my place in Pinecrest Falls first.”

“Why?” I said sharply, heart thudding.

That wasn’t the plan. The plan was Montreal, where we could see the city sights. Also, I didn’t want to go to his house. I’d been there once before, and the few memories I had of that night stirred up all sorts of dark feelings deep inside me, shadows lingering in the corners of my mind, whispering of fear and regret.

“Relax, Rose.” Sebastian’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I figured you’d need to change first, because that dress of yours will look strange to outsiders, and I knew you wouldn’t want people staring at you all night. So I bought you some regular outsider clothes and shoes. You can change into them before we go. They’re back at the house.”

“Oh.” My shoulders sagged with relief, and I forced the vague memories into a box in the corner of my mind. “Sorry. My nerves are going insane.”

“No need to apologize. This is a big deal for you. First night out,” he replied. “Well, first as an adult, anyway.”

The car sped up, and I peered out the window, marveling at the blur of trees on the edge of the road as they whizzed by. I’d never traveled so quickly before. Even when my father took me out of Alderwood as a child, he’d never driven this fast, because he didn’t do it often, and that made him nervous and overly cautious.

“It’s so strange to me,” I murmured. “All these things are so normal to you, but to me, it really does seem like magic. This car, and all the technology in it… it’s amazing.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. I’m glad you agreed to come and check it all out.” He cast a side-eyed glance at me, eyes glimmering with satisfaction. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together, Rose.”

“I can’t wait.” Another sign appeared on the side of the road, letting us know we were almost in Pinecrest Falls. I thought back to the previous sign I’d spotted and looked over at Sebastian again. “Won’t I need some sort of travel documents to go to Montreal?”

His eyes were focused on the road now. “No, you’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I thought Canada was a different country, and my father once told me that you need to have special documents to travel over borders between countries.”

“We have a deal with the Canadians, because they’re one of our closest allies,” Sebastian explained, grip tightening on the wheel. “No passports or visas are necessary for travel between the two countries.”

“Oh, I see. That’s nice.”

The car slowed, and we made a right turn, heading up a long, winding road. When we reached the top, I leaned forward, brows rising high as I took in the enormous house before me. Three stories of wood and stone loomed against the night sky, blending almost seamlessly with the rugged terrain surrounding it.

“I remember this,” I murmured. “This is the place.”

“Where we first saw each other?” Sebastian asked, turning to me as he pulled the car to a stop.

“Yes.” My heart began to race with apprehension. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I… I don’t know. Never mind,” I mumbled.

Sebastian helped me out of the car and led me up to the front door. As he pushed it open and flicked a switch somewhere, a wave of light and warmth enveloped me.

Ahead of me lay an expansive living area, with high ceilings supported by thick wooden beams. A huge stone fireplace dominated one wall, fire crackling merrily and casting flickering shadows across the room. Plush sofas and armchairs were arranged around a rustic coffee table, inviting me to sit and admire the colorful artwork hanging on the walls. Above it all, a chandelier made of antlers hung from the ceiling, capturing the essence of the surrounding wilderness.

“Wow.” I stepped forward, eyes wide. “It’s beautiful in here.”

Sebastian smiled. “I thought you’d like it. The art is really something, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Did you pick it out?”

“No.” He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t press him on it. His mother must have chosen all the art, and he clearly didn’t want to discuss her tonight. Not on what was supposed to be a fun night for the two of us.

He gestured to one of the sofas in the large living area. “I laid the clothes out for you on there,” he said. “You can change while I go to the kitchen to grab us some drinks. You must be thirsty after that hike, right?”

I nodded as I stepped over to the sofa. “Parched.”

“I have Coke, if you’d like to try that. Or do you just want a glass of water?”

“I’ll try the Coke, please.” I looked back at him and smiled. “One of the healers absolutely loved it when he was in the outside world. He still talks about it, so I need to see what all the fuss is about, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do.” Sebastian grinned and clapped his hands together. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

After he stepped out, I turned my gaze back to the clothes he’d laid out on the sofa. On the left lay a beautiful black and white dress, made from a mixture of fabrics I’d never seen before. The outer layer was incredibly smooth with a slight sheen to it, catching and reflecting the light, and the layer beneath it was like a fine net with a rougher texture, adding volume to the dress.

Next to the dress was a soft black coat and a pair of shiny black shoes with thin heels. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk in them, but Sebastian seemed to have considered that, because there was a note next to the shoebox. Don’t worry, I bought you other shoes too. These ones are just for dinner.

I slipped out of my dirt-smeared gray dress and into the new dress. There was no mirror in the living room, but I could tell that it fit perfectly from the way it cinched at the waist, skimmed over my hips, and fell to just above my feet. I slipped the heeled shoes on, immediately teetering on them, and I giggled and kicked them off, figuring I should wait until I’d had my drink before I risked wearing them again.

Sebastian reappeared, holding two glasses of dark brown liquid. “Here you go,” he said, holding one of the glasses out to me. “That dress looks incredible on you.”

“Thank you.” Cheeks flushing from the compliment, I hurried over to him and accepted the glass. I took a sip, relishing the sweetness as I rolled it around my mouth. “Mmm. It’s nice. And… what’s that word? The way it feels.”

“Fizzy.” Sebastian smiled, eyes dancing over my face as I took another sip. “It’s carbonated. That’s why it’s got all the bubbles.”

“Hmm. I don’t know why, but it works.”

He motioned to the sofa. “Take a seat. We’ll leave as soon as we’re finished.”

I sank onto the closest seat, right next to the beautiful new coat he’d purchased for me, and took a big gulp of the Coke. I liked it, but I wanted it gone as fast as possible, because I was so excited about traveling to a city. The anticipation was twisting my stomach into knots and making my heart race.

“How are you feeling?” Sebastian asked, staring down at me.

“Excited,” I said. “And…”

I was about to say more when a sudden wave of dizziness hit me, followed by a crashing wave of exhaustion. Panic surged in me, a cold knot tightening in my chest.

“I think…” I blinked rapidly, one hand clutching at the sofa cushion. “Sebastian… I think I’m getting sick.”

“Sick?” He slowly tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t feel good. I feel… so weak.” I tried to blink again, but my eyelids felt heavy, and they fluttered shut instead, seemingly incapable of staying open.

“That’s normal,” Sebastian said. His voice was different now. Colder. Detached.

I forced my eyes open again. “What do you mean?” I asked, barely able to get the words out.

He took a step closer, lips twisted in a strange smile. “Your people aren’t the only ones who can slip things into drinks, Rose.”

I tried to grasp his meaning, but with each passing second, coherent thought was slipping farther and farther out of my hands.

I tried to stand, but it felt like I still had the heeled shoes on, and I instantly wobbled, knees buckling as my legs and feet failed me. Sebastian caught me with one arm, roughly shoving me back onto the sofa. I was powerless to stop him, every muscle betraying me by refusing to work.

“I… don’t understand,” I said breathlessly, still struggling to keep my eyelids from closing again. The room seemed to be spinning around me, darkness closing in at the edges. “What did you do?”

“You’ll find out soon, baby girl.”

In a final effort to fight the encroaching darkness, I lurched forward to grab Sebastian, hoping the act of clinging to his jacket would force me to stay awake. He took a step back, and I grasped at thin air before falling backward, head lolling before it hit the cushion behind me.

With that, the darkness finally took me.