Page 93 of Pawns of Fate
Hermes, at least, let them both wish him a happy birthday and asked how life at Castle Sharp was going for her.
Her aunt and uncle, however, didn’t even acknowledge Rose and Nicholas, which was a major breach of etiquette considering their status as close relatives. But Hector and Ghislaine were intent on attending to every party guest except them. They never even sat at their designated table. Rose found it strange but decided to have fun and enjoy what would probably be her last major social event before motherhood.
Things began to draw to a close. Rose wanted to request that the carriage take them to the inn when a servant called them to her uncle’s office. Rose was surprised by this, but when she looked at her husband, she realized he was not. In fact, Nicholas almost seemed giddy as they followed the servant to meet withHector.
Her uncle’s office had changed, just like the rest of the castle. What had once been a heavy, gloomy space filled with books, papers, and ancient furniture was now a bright, gold and marble room decorated with flowers and jeweled books. They’d even added a small fountain, which her uncle sat beside.
She and Nicholas sat in the unoccupied chairs surrounding the silly fountain. No one bothered with formalities. Tension pressed down on Rose’s neck as she spotted her uncle’s foul mood through his hunched posture and brooding face.
“Well, what do you want?” Hector spat at Nicholas.
Rose almost fell out of her chair. Her uncle was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. The way he’d just addressed Nicholas, a higher-ranked noble with whom he shared important business contracts, was akin to declaring war.
Nicholas simply smiled and pulled a paper out of his jacket. He passed it to Hector, whose face grew redder with each word he read.
“Rose, my love.” Nicholas grabbed her hand. “I had Syzman do some digging on certain things about your past that didn’t add up to me.”
“What?”
“Your father was the rightful heir to the title of Viscount Robson. Since he and your mother married, that title should have passed to you. Not his brother.”
“Nicholas, my mother hid me from my father’s family, most likely because she was afraid of my grandparents. She didn’t know that they’d died shortly after I was born. I’d been in theorphanage for a decade and a half when my uncle found me. It wouldn’t have been right for me to take the title after he’d already had it for that long.”
“She’s right,” Hector added hastily, spittle flying out of his mouth.
“No, she’s not,” Nicholas replied coolly. “Your mother didn’t hide you in the orphanage, Rose. Hector did.”
Rose blinked. The implications of Nicholas’s words hit her like a tidal wave. Her uncle had sent her to the orphanage so that he could take the title of viscount for himself? No, he couldn’t—but Rose stopped her spiraling thoughts because she knew it was exactly what her uncle would have done.
“Uncle, is this true?”
“Rose, don’t listen to him!” Hector pleaded, but his eyes betrayed his panic. He looked like a rat stuck in a trap.
“I have the statements of multiple servants from the time. It turns out that even though you can buy silence with a little money, a guilty conscience can do a lot, too. I have the letter Rose’s mother sent you, Hector.”
He pulled an old-looking paper out of his jacket, but handed this paper to Rose instead of her uncle. Her heart sank as she unfolded the paper and looked over the flowing, feminine handwriting.
Dear Hector,
I know that we have never met, but I beg you, as the wife of your brother, Manius, to look after our daughter. My family’s ill will has become dangerous for Manius and me—too dangerous for us to safely care for our child.Please send a trustworthy servant to the Spring Temple Orphanage in Guiterra. Rose will be there. She is a sweet baby, and her hair is already the loveliest shade of Robson pink. I know you and Ghislaine will adore her and care for her just as well as Manius and I if we cannot retrieve her from you soon.
Please, please take care of your niece, my lovely little Rose.
Annicka Robson
Hot tears pressed at the back of Rose’s eyes. She couldn’t believe how cruel her uncle had been, how many lies he’d told! All this time, she’d just accepted that Hector had done the best he could, that he simply hadn’t known about her existence. But this! He’d lied about everything, from the fact that the priestesses clearly hadn’t named her to the fact that her mother had begged him and Ghislaine to raise her!
Hector grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, what do you want anyway? I can’t change the past. It’s done now, and I’m the viscount.” He wasn’t even denying it! Rose’s tears turned to anger; her blood boiled.
“I wonder about that,” Nicholas said with venom.
Hector’s already red face deepened into a distasteful hue. “She’s going to be a marchioness! What would she need with the title of viscount?”
“We’ll have more than one child. The younger couldinherit all of the Robson fortune.”
Veins popped out of Hector’s neck as he ground his teeth together. Rose was slightly worried the man might have a heart attack from all the commotion. Her anger melted into apathy.
“Nicholas…” Rose whispered to her husband and touched his arm. She didn’t want revenge. She just wanted to leave.
