Page 9 of Legacy of Roses

“Away,” Rosalie said shortly. “We will be avoiding Dimitri from now on.”

Daphne raised an eyebrow, but it was Dimitri’s voice that spoke. Rosalie had already dragged her friend halfway across the square, but Dimitri was striding after them, leaving the other girls behind.

“Wait!” he called. “I was wanting to speak with you.”

“Well, I don’t want to speak with you.” Rosalie finally stopped walking backward and dropped Daphne’s arm. Spinning, she strode forward instead, leaving Dimitri to address her back.

“I really am sorry,” he said, sounding far too close. “To say I was confused yesterday is putting it mildly. I couldn’t understand most of what you were saying.”

Rosalie shook her head. So he was going to blame ignorance? Was she supposed to find that sympathetic?

He fell into silence, but she could still hear his steps, like a black cloud following her. Daphne had stuck to her side, and Rosalie could see her sneaking glances back at him. But Rosalie refused to do the same. She could hardly order him off—apparently his home lay in the same direction as hers—but she could ignore his presence. It was going to be her strategy from now on.

The houses thinned and grew more run-down, and the other traffic on the road lessened. When it was just the two of them walking with Dimitri’s footsteps behind them, Rosalie couldn’t hold herself back any longer.

She came to an abrupt stop, catching Daphne and their silent shadow by surprise. She whirled to face Dimitri just as he finally stopped as well, only inches from her.

Rosalie’s breath caught. He was closer than she’d expected. Too close. She crossed her arms over her chest, unwilling to be the one to back away.

He froze, his body stilling. His gaze caught on her eyes and then dropped to her lips.

Chapter 4

Dimitri

With an indrawn breath, Dimitri took two rapid steps backward. “Apologies, I didn’t—” He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say, but Rosalie cut him off before he could make the situation any worse by mangling another apology.

“Did you think about anything at all when you decided to come and live in Glandore—in an abandoned castle, no less?” She drew a horrified breath. “Did you know I live here? Is that why you’re following me around?”

Panic crept in. It clearly wasn’t a good idea to tell her the truth. He was following her because whenever she appeared, he couldn’t look away—even if his presence seemed to make her spit fire. Or maybe it was that fire that so attracted him—making her glow from within. Whatever the cause, everyone else he’d met in the village seemed lifeless in comparison.

“I had no notion you existed until we met yesterday,” he said truthfully, hoping that, at least, was unobjectionable.

Daphne gave a slow clap beside them, startling him. He’d forgotten she was there.

“Well done, Rose,” she said without a trace of mockery. “You almost made it all the way through town!”

“Don’t call me that!” Rosalie snapped, and Dimitri took note that she didn’t like the nickname.

Daphne, however, seemed to know it wasn’t the true source of Rosalie’s irritation.

“You have many talents, dearest friend,” she said sweetly. “But avoiding things is not one of them. May I remind you that as soon as I told you about the open manor door yesterday, you dragged me straight out there? I honestly didn’t think you’d manage to ignore Dimitri for so long.”

Rosalie glared at her friend, and Daphne smiled serenely back.

Dimitri bit down on a smile of his own. Apparently he didn’t need to worry about Rosalie making good on her threat to avoid him. If she had insisted he keep his distance, he would have had to accept it, of course. But it would have been a blow. He had spent far too much of the previous evening thinking of her when he should have been focusing on the continuing mystery of his missing family and whatever threat had sent his mother fleeing the kingdom twenty years ago. But he had only walked into the village in the hope of seeing Rosalie.

“I have a library,” he blurted out, reminded of his previous evening’s task.

He immediately bit down on his tongue. He wasn’t usually so witless. Despite his upbringing, he had some experience talking to women. Even in the small mountain community there had been a few girls who had shown interest. And even more had done so during his journey to the manor. Talking to them hadn’t made him trip over his own tongue. His awkwardness around Rosalie was mortifying, but it still wasn’t enough to make him walk away from the conversation.

“Congratulations,” Rosalie said. “You also have a castle. And you’re a prince.” She glared up at him, clearly feeling none of the admiration for those facts that the girls in Thebarton had demonstrated.

He had spent the whole conversation with Blythe and her friends trying to think of a subtle way to bring up Rosalie and ask if she was likely to visit the town that day. But not even the biggest mountain recluse could have missed the way the group of girls had responded to his revelations.

“Not a prince,” he clarified. “You know how big the Glandorian royal family is. There are useless cousins everywhere.” He had learned that from his mother’s papers, but he assumed it would be common knowledge for someone like Rosalie.

“Useless quibbling.” Rosalie’s eyes narrowed.

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