Page 138 of The Throne Seeker
“Which guest room would you like her to stay in?” Gretta asked from down the hall, still shuffling towards the rooms. “I have the west wing room made up, or I can ready another?”
“She’ll have my room.”
Rose’s brows shot upward. “Oh no, I couldn’t— I’m sure the guest room will be more than?—”
Roman spoke over her. “Thank you, Gretta, that’ll be all.”
“Of course,” Gretta said, clearly not bothered at the abrupt dismissal. In fact, she would dare say a mischievous smile rested on her face as she departed and went back downstairs.
Roman led Rose down the long hall to another staircase, which, though narrow, twisted in a circular fashion, winding to one of the towers.
Roman’s room was nothing like she envisioned. It was so…sophisticated. The large room had three bay windows that protruded out, offering an even better view of the lake and forest from the elevated height. Dark-auburn curtains draped between the large windows, looking so soft she was tempted to run her fingers over them. The large bed had four dark-wood canopy posts holding dark-purple curtains that matched the duvet. Across from the bed sat a wide stone fireplace with a full iron firewood rack stacked beside it.
More windows lined the right side of the room, with a large table and a telescope. Star charts and parchment remainedscattered across the table as if Roman had been here yesterday. A sturdy wooden bookcase housed hardbacks on various subjects, safeguarded by glass windows to protect the precious pages held within.
Her favorite thing was the porcelain bathtub nestled in the middle of the bay windows, which would allow her to appreciate the view while she bathed. Remarkably, even after all this time, the room still carried his scent.
“I can’t take this,” she said.
Roman cocked an eyebrow, folding his arms. “Does my room not meet your expectations?”
“No—I mean, yes. It exceeds them, really, but?—”
“Then you’ll stay. Or I’ll be offended.”
She threw him an appreciative look, knowing he was trying to make her feel better. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
Rose shifted her gaze, still admiring the room.
Roman cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to get settled. I’ll be just down the stairs to your right, five doors down. Don’t hesitate to ask Gretta for anything you need. I’ll have her move some clothes from Harriet’s room into the closet for you if you need them.”
“Thank you,” she said, knowing it’d irk him.
He gave her a cross stare, to which she winked.
A small smile hovered on his lips but didn’t fully surface. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
The moment he stepped out, her gaze fell on the tub that Gretta had already filled. She smiled, biting her lip as she grabbed a towel, aching to clean up before dinner.
She sniffed the bath salts, pinpointing the source of Roman’s musky cedar scent. She added a generous amount to the tub, breathing in the aroma as the warm, moist air steamed her face.
Relief came as soon as she climbed in, leaning backward and bracing her back against the cold porcelain. With that, she relaxed, the bubbles so dense they covered her from shoulders to toes.
She’d almost fallen asleep when a knock came at the door.
Gretta entered with a smile, bringing more of Harriet’s clothes as promised, and went straight to work, sliding them into the closet for Rose while she soaked.
“Do you manage the whole manor yourself?” she asked.
Gretta picked up another handful of dresses to hang as she said, “Oh, heavens no. But there aren’t many of us. There’s me, the cook, and two maids. When the royal family returns, the servants from the castle come to help until they leave again. They used to come often, but ever since the war broke out… well, not much free time.”
Rose gave her a sympathetic smile. “It must get lonely.”
Gretta shook her head fervently. “Oh no, I have family in the city. My mother and brother live there. It’s only about a half-day’s travel from here. I see them every week or so.”
“That’s wonderful. It’s lucky they’re so close.”
