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Rose's pov

When Rose had gotten back to her room, she had done a lot of thinking. And pacing. She had practically burned a hole through her lush carpet. Vernali was right. She did need to learn to open more. Of course, Orion was her friend and she owed him that. Over the small amount of time that he had been with her, she had laughed, smiled, played around. It was refreshing. She felt more like a human being around him. He was her best friend. The only one who really got it, the pain and guilt and pressure. He was her shoulder to cry on. Her anchor when she felt ready to take off forever. If she could not trust him, she could not trust anybody. Not that she did trust anybody. So, after some serious soul searching, she decided that of all people, he was as plausible as a confidant as Vernali was.

She quickly climbed her way up to her Orion's room and straightened up. He had made himself a makeshift bed from the large pillows that had been up here, and it seemed quite livable. She got his food from the kitchens and some fresh clothes that she had picked up from the washroom. She had gotten a pair of brown leather shoes from one of the page boys that lived in the castle and helped with the horses and Silas.

She put all of this aside and looked about. She did not know much about Orion. She did not know his home; she did not know his family. But she knew his heart, and it was one of the purest she had seen. He deserved this. Here and there she added little details that would remind him of her. Tiny lumiprimes, which were tiny glowing flowers that swayed without a breeze began to sprout on the ceiling, creating a star-like effect. The holes that had once allowed rain drips were now patched with speedwell grass and the morning-glories that covered the walls made a beautiful addition. If only she had thought of such decor for herself when she was up here.

When she was happy with the way she had made his room, she went down to hers, and keeping the door unlocked for Orion, she closed her eyes to sleep.

But sleep was not coming.
Her mind was full of wondering, and she could not close out her thoughts. Her brain would not shut up. Memories continued to flash behind her eyelids. Singing. Laughing. The light of joy in a woman's eye. In a child's eyes. The way food used to taste. The way her sisters and she used to play. The way her father used to swoop her into the air and the way she would pretend she was a dragon.
The way she used to be before she was angry.
 Before she lost her mother. Before the black cloud overtook her mind.
Before she had ever heard the name Rovax.
Rovax.
She hated him.
She hated everything he stood for. Everything he attempted. Everything he took away from her. Away from the world.
She hated the way she had let herself become. And she hated that she hated. She laughed bitterly into the dark of her room. If she could just go back in time.
Back when everything was perfect.

She had never had friends. Maybe when she was younger. Maybe then. But not now. Well, she did. One. One friend.
One friend that she could name in the 13 years she had been alive. Not bad.
Her sisters had friends. She always teased Josephine about the people she would hang around. They all looked like her, acted like her, spoke like her. They were her yes-men.
And Syline? She had so many little kid friends, Rose doubted she even remembered all their names. Of course, Willow was too young to come out of the nursery very often, and it would be a while before she was even allowed out of the castle walls. She could not leave the nursery until she was at least 14 months old. until then, she was confined to her nursery, next to the master's room, with a nursemaid.

At least Rose was not isolated. That was something to be thankful for. Hmm. That was a thought. All the things to be thankful for. She was thankful that she was breathing. She was thankful that her father was a just king. She was thankful that Vernali never asked her to model while she made clothes. She was thankful that her red hair did not have dead ends.
She was thankful for Orion.

Yes, she was thankful that she finally had a friend. A real friend. Someone whom she could depend on and trust.

With those happy thoughts in her head, she drifted off into a comfortable sleep.  

Rose's Thorns: The Wolf's ProphecyWhere stories live. Discover now