Page 62 of Legacy of Roses

He smiled. “So you like to read?”

“No!” Rosalie said quickly, earning a surprised look.

She bit her lip, looking about at their surroundings. “Actually,” she said in a rush, “I do like to read.”

The statement came out defiantly, and she could see from Dimitri’s expression that he was bemused. But he had no idea what it had cost her to say.

“I’ve always insisted I don’t like to read,” she told him softly. “But I still remember the thrill the first time I managed to puzzle out an entire page on my own. It was like unlocking the door to a broader, richer life. Except I was convinced I had to hand the key back. I told everyone I didn’t care for reading and made myself avoid it as much as possible.”

“But why?” he asked softly, clearly confused but recognizing what the confession meant to her.

“Because the original merchant’s daughter loved to read. All the histories mention it. When her family lost everything, her sisters mourned their jewels and their dresses and their suitors, but the youngest mourned the loss of her father’s books.”

Dimitri regarded her steadily but silently, allowing her to rest for a moment with the words she’d spoken. She could have hugged him for it except she didn’t want to get out of her chair.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, gingerly sliding into the chair across from hers.

Her mouth twitched at the sight of his fur-covered body—still dressed as impeccably as always but now enveloped in an enormous rose.

He looked down and grimaced. “It suits you better than me.”

“You look charming,” she assured him with a grin. “And thank you. I know I’ve been doing nothing but blame you since you arrived at the manor. But I do know none of this is actually your fault.”

“Any more than it’s your fault,” he said quickly. “I resent that my mother raised me in ignorance, depriving me of family in order to keep me away from the Legacy. But at least it allowed me to grow up with the Legacy as nothing but an unseen weight on my shoulders. So much of your life has been shaped byyour struggle against it. You were so busy not being the original merchant’s daughter that you had little space left to be yourself. You deserve better, Rosalie. You deserve to be truthful about who you are.”

She stared at him. He had understood exactly. No one had ever understood it as quickly and completely as he had. Was it because his life had also been shaped by the Legacy, although in the opposite way?

“Yes, exactly,” she said softly. “But I’m sorry for what was done to you as well.” She hesitated. “Have you found any answers in this library? Not about the Legacy but about your family, I mean?” It might be intrusive to ask, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Actually, I did find something,” he said. “But not in here. My mother left a letter for my grandfather when she departed for the mountains, and it was in her old room, waiting for me. I think he left it there for me to find.”

“A letter?” Rosalie asked softly. She could see from his face how significant it was for him to share with her, and she wanted to tread carefully.

He drew two folded pieces of paper from his pocket, smoothing them out carefully. He didn’t meet her eyes as he chuckled uncomfortably.

“I’ve started carrying it around with me which is foolish. I suppose I thought…” He trailed off, and she had no idea how to finish the sentence.

But when he held the papers out to her, she forgot everything else.

“Are you sure?” she asked before reaching for them.

When he nodded, she accepted both sheets and eagerly scanned the elegant cursive script. Her eyes widened as she read, and when she finished, she looked up at him in silence. He had already mentioned that the Legacy couldn’t influence emotionsor control actions, so he understood the reality behind his mother’s words. He knew she had been delusional, clinging to a foolish belief to avoid facing her husband’s betrayal.

Rosalie’s hand trembled as she returned the letter to Dimitri. He carefully folded it again and replaced it in his pocket.

“She wasn’t brave like you,” he said in a rush. “She wasn’t strong like you either. I know you would never run away like she did, but please…” His voice faltered. “Please don’t think too badly of her.”

He finally looked at her, and the pain in his eyes pierced her chest. He saw his mother’s weaknesses with clear eyes, but he loved her regardless. Of course he did. And he had just lost her.

Part of Rosalie wanted to speak quick, glib reassurances. But he had just told her to be truthful about her own feelings, and she wanted to do that now with him.

“I do resent her a little,” she said slowly. “I resent her on your behalf, and a little on my own. She chose to run from her own pain, but she caused others so much pain in the process—you, your grandfather, even me, someone who hadn’t even been born when she wrote this letter. If she had remained and built a new life, you would never have become a prince living alone in a castle, and the Legacy wouldn’t have latched on to the two of us like it has.”

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, but she shook her head.

“I wasn’t finished. I resent her a little, but I understand her as well. Better than you seem to think.” She leaned back and looked at the ceiling, fighting back tears. When she regained control, she looked at him again and forced a weak smile. “I know the temptation to excuse my own weaknesses rather than face the full force of them. It’s a powerful temptation.”

“But you don’t give in to it,” Dimitri said.

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