Chapter Four:
Her change of pace, as dangerous as it sounds.
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Roseanne blinked once, twice.
Just as she had thought, it was not a dream. Instead, there was that fear from inside of her that gathered while she had slept. The woman feared that all would come back to reality when she had slept, enough that she was sure that it was late when she had passed out from exhaustion. Lying on a large bed, she had found herself inside the Duke’s room.
It takes her some seconds to snap into reality, and when she did, she offered a sigh.
To the Duke’s worries about what occurred last night, he leads her to his bedroom. Yet before she could even settle to the bed, the man quickly walked to his son to check on him. She always knew that he was not the type of person to impose, much more to sleep in the same room as her. That is the reason why she had accepted his words, despite knowing that her family would think otherwise.
While the Duke had not slept in his room, he gave her an abundance of knights to her disposal.
“I really did change things. I did it,” she whispered, eyes following the tall windows.
While she was not sure that the future would not remain as they were, she had at least changed something. Remembering the look and care that the Duke had given her, she could bring back all the memories she had in this place- and never remembered that he had given her much attention.
Then again, she was the one who staggered back.
To all his advances, Roseanne would quickly take a step behind.
But back then, it was only because she was young and being controlled by her family. So even if she could not gather the love of the man, she was sure that she would do well in being his wife. Yet thinking things through, she was sure that a good wife would not do all the possible things to get away from her husband—or her son.
She was simply misguided.
But not anymore.
“Duchess.” A maid called from the other side of the door, followed by a knock.
Gathering herself to sit, the door opened at her orders. All her attendants gathered, bowing at the sight of her. Marianne had the face of a haunted, seemingly worried about what had occurred to her lady. Yet, she remembered how her attendants were loyal to her, enough that all of them were willing to stand in her defense when she was summoned as guilty.
She could not believe that there was a time when she had made the mistake of thinking of them as merely the Duke’s people. She had never offered them the kindness they deserved. She was never harsh on them, or ever tried to harm anyone. But she had seen them as people who watched her, so he had no sense of trust in them.
So now that she knew better, she offered them all a soft smile. “Would it be improper if I disregard my duties for the day?”
“None at all, Your Grace. The Duke had stated that whatever you wanted shall be given to you,” Marianne replied, her face beaming to the words.
As she was being helped to her bath, one maid still reads her activities for the day. Her older sister fixed her schedule, as she had always been the person who is active in the gatherings. Her sister did her best to let her achieve what is proper for the Duchess to what she had believed before.
Roseanne was blind to see that her older sister had only done everything so she could have her advances to the Duke. In the future, she had never heard that her husband remarried. Although, her family did stay by the side of the Cheztimir family due to their apologies for what they framed Roseanne to have done.
She was simply banished away from their sights, nothing more.
“What do you want to do for today, Duchess?” Marianne questioned, letting her see the way she was handling her hair. For a second, she wanted to appear prim and proper as it was suited for the Duke. It was like a thought in the back of her head, one that she was always supposed to do.
Yet she found herself drawn in her hair, answering the woman. “Let it loose, please. I am only drinking some tea in the garden.”
“Of course.”
.
.
And to the garden, she did go.
Roseanne sat in one of the chairs, her hands gently placed on her lap as they normally were. But, her face revealed no other than worries. Despite not wanting to trouble herself from the future, she had suffered those insufferable years with grief and pain. While she had done nothing, people accused her of terrible things.
For now, she had managed to save herself.
Despite having her worries about what had happened to her, she managed to stop herself from being banished to the Duke’s home due to her quick thinking. But, while it had stopped her from being cast out and named as a traitor in the estate, one thing was still on the back of her mind.
One of which is whether her son would be capable of doing such heinous crimes.
“What made Alistair the monster that the Kingdom feared?” She whispered, hands fisted below the table as she gathered no information about it. All she had were gossip and news. All words that spilled from one person to another.
From what her memory served her, Alistair is a good kid.
Could it be because he had thought that his mother tried to kill him?
An array of footsteps gathered not that far from where she was. Automatically, her eyes followed them in caution. Then, in the distance, she saw her son with several servants following behind. She could hardly remember her child in this appearance. He truly was so small and precious, and his face sparks the pure innocence of a child. Remembering the future that she had lived made everything feel more painful than it was before.
He must have truly lived a harsh life for him to change so drastically.
How can this child be the reason for all the crimes and violence that shook the Kingdom?
She simply can’t believe it.
Judging by his attire or clothing, it was obvious that he was there to train. A small wooden sword was at his disposal, eyes meek and careful as he walked to the garden. Alistair had a troubled face, one that seemed to have mimicked exhaustion and confusion.
Roseanne could understand.
Despite the attack being a fluke, he must have suffered worse in the hands of that person. The fear of knowing that someone had walked into your bed-chamber, in hopes of harming you is too much for a child to bear. Everyone would be terrified.
Even if it was a ruse set up by her family, she was sure that the child was agitated.
“Does the Young Lord usually train here?” She asked, looking at Marianne.
Roseanne had the right to call her child to his name, but she found her lips stating his title. It was an impulse, and she hated that she used to be so naive that she had blindly believed people she thought were looking out for her. Of course, it was not a surprise for anyone, as that was always the way she had addressed him. Yet, for once, she felt like it was odd for her to address her son in that fashion.
Why had she never called him in his name?
Her attendants nodded their heads, offering a smile in the direction of the Duchess. “Despite the area reaching far from his estate, he does request to have his training on these grounds.”
Alistair is training in her garden.
In her memory, she does recall that the Young Lord does his best to gather her attention. Yet just like her husband, she only offered nothing but the distance to them. She does adore the child and spends the necessary amount of time when he was young. Roseanne was a responsible mother from what she had gathered. Yet from the second that Alistair could stand up on his own and speak, she had backed off.
For her, the responsibility that she has to the child was done and over.
As cruel as it was, she had always seen her position as an obligation. It was how her family had trained her. From the second she had sealed her marriage with the Duke, her family let her know that this was nothing but a marriage that suited their benefit. So, she needed to do everything in her power to do her obligation as a wife.
Naive little Roseanne did what they had asked.
She does not want to flock her own feather, but she hopes that her son wanted to train in her garden in hopes that it would be enough to let them gather some time together. Annalisa must have noticed this, so Roseanne was always called outside of her side of the estate.
“Alistair.”
Roseanne flinched, her hand shaking as she faced the source of the voice. Following behind her son was no other than her older sister. To her face was a bright smile, holding a tray filled with sweets that would gather delicious for a child. Annalisa really does look like a woman who can offer no wrong. With her long red locks and black eyes, everyone was at her sister’s disposal.
In response to the call, she had seen her child offer a wry smile in return.
Has she always openly approached her son like this? What power does she have to call him by his given name so openly?
“There she goes again, always doing her best to be in the Young Lord’s favor.” She heard one of the maid whispers, letting her look back. “She always does this, Your Grace!”
Roseanne frowned, putting her cup down as she whispered back. “My sister?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” another replied with a nod.
Marianne even joined the conversation. “While you make yourself busy on the tasks fitted for you, she would do her best always to stand close to the young master.”
“It had gotten to the point that during formal gatherings, they claim that she is more fitted to be the Young Lord’s mother.” another attendant butted in.
...what?