Rosalind paced slowly in front of them while Verity and Thalia were still trying to process everything they had just heard. The room felt heavier now, as if what she had revealed had changed the air itself.

"You don’t think that was just a bluff from him to stop what was happening?" Thalia asked quietly, her voice low but unsure.

Verity shook her head slowly. "No, that didn’t feel like a bluff. He doesn’t seem like the reckless type. He must have said it out of anger, but it still felt like it meant something deeper," she said carefully.

"Exactly," Rosalind agreed immediately, stopping in front of them. "The king didn’t seem like himself either. He was shocked, and we all know Alaric is not someone who gets shaken easily, but he was shaken yesterday. I think there is something both of them are hiding."

Thalia frowned slightly, trying to piece it together. "But that still doesn’t make sense, because even if he meant father, there is no way Alaric has a son old enough to speak like that."

Verity said after a pause, "Unless he meant the previous king... but even that feels uncertain."

Thalia nodded slowly, though doubt still lingered in her expression.

"But why are we even considering this?" she added after a moment. "He is just a footman. He couldn’t possibly have royal blood."

Rosalind swallowed tightly, her thoughts already spiraling faster than her voice could keep up with. "I don’t know if you noticed, but there is something strange about him," she said slowly. "He doesn’t behave like a normal servant. He doesn’t bow properly, he doesn’t tremble like the others do, and even when he does, it feels forced, like he is holding himself back."

A cold shiver ran down her spine as the memory resurfaced.

"And he once told me he was an only child," Rosalind continued, her voice quickening as the pieces in her mind tried to connect. "I assumed he came from a noble family, but then he said he was captured and forced to serve. None of it fits. None of it makes sense for him to be saying his father is the king."

"Slow down, Rosalind," Verity said gently, stepping closer.

Rosalind stopped immediately as Verity leaned in slightly.

"All of this still doesn’t point to anything solid," Verity said calmly. "He could just be arrogant or strange. Not every servant who acts differently has a hidden identity."

"But Verity, this could be important," Rosalind insisted, her voice softer now but urgent. "If there is even the slightest truth to it, it could help... something that might help me stop him from executing Rowan"

Thalia frowned slightly, " I think it’s worth uncovering too... If there is something hidden in all of this... then it changes everything we thought we knew."

Verity nodded slowly as well.

"So we are really doing this?" Rosalind asked, looking between them and they nodded.

"But how will we do this if you are stuck here?" Thalia asked, tilting her head slightly.

Rosalind’s shoulders fell a little at the reminder, "You don’t have to worry about that" Verity assured her, "We can move around so we’ll just gather every information we can find and bring it to you. We will then piece everything together slowly."

All of them nodded in agreement.

Before anything else could be said, a knock sounded at the door.

The footman’s voice followed immediately. "Thirty minutes is almost up."

Thalia let out a small groan. "I cannot believe we will have to bribe him every time we want to see you."

Rosalind gave a faint, bitter smile. "I am sorry for the trouble I have caused you both. I hope I can make it up to you someday."

Verity placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What are friends for? We will help you, Rosalind, no matter what."

Thalia nodded firmly in agreement, and without another word, the three of them stepped forward and hugged each other tightly.

Soon, it was time for Verity and Thalia to leave. Rosalind stood still as she watched them go, her chest tightening again as silence returned to the room.

Now that she had told them everything, she could only hope they would uncover the truth quickly enough to stop Rowan’s execution before it was too late.

****

Rowan was back in the dungeon again, with no light and the air smelling of dampness as the cold walls pressed against his back while he leaned against them, his legs stretched out in front of him and his head hung low.

His mind kept circling back to Rosalind, and he kept wondering what had happened to her after he was taken away.

He wondered if she had been hurt, if she had been terrified, if she had cried, or if she had regretted everything that happened between them, and the thought alone made something heavy tighten in his chest.

It was all because of him.

Because of his selfish need to see her one last time, everything had fallen apart.

He had only meant to see her, nothing more, but the moment he laid eyes on her, every restraint he had had broken completely, and he had stopped thinking like a man in control.

Because of him, Rosalind was now exposed and vulnerable.

He was supposed to protect her, supposed to stay disciplined no matter how much it hurt, but instead he was the one who had brought danger directly to her doorstep. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

He had slept with her, gotten caught, revealed something dangerous, and destabilized everything...

Rowan dragged a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening as anger slowly replaced regret.

Alaric.

The image of the king grabbing Rosalind, insulting her, and almost striking her replayed in his mind again and again until it burned. His rage flared harder each time, sharp and uncontrollable, and in that moment of fury, he had spoken without thinking, words that should have stayed buried, words that had shocked Alaric enough to leave him unsettled.

And now everything would change.

Suspicion would begin to spread... and there was no real way to undo what had already been set in motion.

Rowan clenched his jaw tightly as the thoughts continued to build inside his mind. It did not matter that the king had ordered his execution, because that was nothing more than a bluff, something Rowan understood too well by now.

Alaric would not kill him.

He needed him alive.

And Rowan could only hope that whatever had happened last night, born out of his own loss of control, would be enough to force Alaric to keep his distance from Rosalind.

Because if he ever found out that the king had laid a hand on her, then he would drag both of them down to hell itself without hesitation.