"I'll wait for you." Tears streamed down Rowan's face as she watched him ready the horse, "I love you" she whispered, Warrick smiled and kissed her lips, laying a hand on her waist and pulling her close, "You're mine Rowan." his voice was soft but stern, safe, that monotone voice she'd grown to love. Rowan had dreaded today, but ever since the war killed her father she'd known he'd go too, everyone did, but he'd come back, he had to. A crisp whistle sounded, it was time, Warrick mounted his horse, well, hers, before looking down at her and smiling, "Don't forget this Rowan, goodbye." Rowan could only assume god gave him this composure, Rowan nodded and looked down, she heard Tarror, her horse trot away and fall in line, still she didn't look up, she didn't until he was far, far gone, "I'll wait for you."
Rowan didn't know it then, but by the time he'll come back everything will have changed.
[A/N]: Hey guys! Before I post this story, I was going to give a little insight. A very good friend of mine and I decided to write this book, and what better way to recieve constructive critcism than to share with everyone here on wattpad? I'm proud to say that we're nearly finished with it, around three to five more chapters need to be written. However, I will gladly post two chapters a week. Depending on the length, I could possibly split each chapter in two. Enjoy! -Skye & Jasmine
My attempts to sleep failed miserably as realization hit me. Tonight was my last night unattached to someone.
I swung my legs to one side of the bed. My bare feet brushed the cold floor and sent shivers up my spine. Scotland is much warmer this time of year. I took a few steps toward the window, but before I got too far I heard chatter just outside my door.
"She’ll never be happy with him." The first voice, a female, was barely audible. "She could be. She’s just upset about Benjamin." A second voice, a man, replied to the woman. "She’ll never love Derick." A hint of anger played beneath the surface of the woman’s voice.
I lay back down after that, so much for Emma accepting our marriage. Unhappiness coursed through my body and I became furious. I’d never love Emma either; with that I went to sleep.
I dreamt of my mother singing in the castle, her voice was loud and demanding. Her words flowed so freely from her mouth and danced playfully down the halls. She was in the throne room singing to my father just as she always did.
Her song was about the way she learned to love my father. Most marriages in Scotland are arranged, and due to our beliefs they have to work out. My mother had always been so madly in love with my father, but he was hesitant because he had to leave the woman he loved so dearly.
So he let her go…