Claimed By The Tyrant King

When Rosalind returned to her chamber, she was surprised to not find Rowan outside.

She had told him she would only take a short walk before returning, so where had he gone? Had he stepped away to attend to something else? The thought crossed her mind as she walked along the dim corridor toward her door.

Just as she reached for the handle, her gaze dropped, and she caught sight of a shadow stretching behind her. It was taller than hers and she stilled for a moment as the realization settled. She had not heard his footsteps at all... Had he had been following her the entire time without her noticing?

Rosalind turned to face him, folding her arms across her chest. "You followed me," she said, giving him a pointed look, though irritation slipped into her tone.

Rowan inclined his head slightly. "It is my duty, my lady," he replied calmly.

Rosalind rolled her eyes as she tried to hold back her annoyance. She had given him a simple instruction, yet he had chosen to ignore it. "Do you really need to? I only went for a short walk, didn’t I?" she asked.

Rowan met her gaze without hesitation. "It was not a short walk, my lady" He started and Rosalind’s brows creased.

Was he saying she was lying? She thought inwardly...

"You were outside for nearly thirty minutes after curfew. Many things could have gone wrong," he said.

"But they didn’t," Rosalind countered as she stepped closer to him and he went still.

She studied him for a moment before saying. "We should start trusting each other more, don’t you think?"

Rowan’s eyes narrowed slightly before he answered. "I do not understand what you mean." The lie came easily, and Rosalind’s arms dropped to her sides. He continued, "All I understand is my duty."

That single word was enough to irritate her further, and she decided she had had enough of him for the night. She shot him a sharp glare before turning away.

"Goodnight," she muttered bitterly as she stepped into her room and shut the door behind her while Rowan returned to his post without a word.

He knew exactly what she meant, but he had chosen not to acknowledge it. She would not understand yet that he acted for her safety, and for now, it was easier for her to think him nothing more than an inconvenience.

The next morning, Thalia stirred awake on her bed. Her eyes were unfocused at first as she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts slow to return. Gradually, the memory of what had happened came back to her, and her gaze dropped to her hands, now wrapped in bandages by the physicians who had attended to her. The sight alone made her eyes sting as the pain returned in waves through her body.

"My lady," a servant called softly.

Thalia sniffled and turned her head toward the voice. The servant bowed deeply. "It is good to see that you have woken. You have been unconscious for quite some time," she said.

Thalia swallowed, though even that felt difficult.

The servant continued, "His Majesty has asked that you be informed... once you are awake, you are to rejoin the other mistresses for lessons as you are not allowed to fall behind."

What?

She had barely recovered, yet she was expected to resume lessons as if nothing had happened... The tears she had held back slipped down her cheeks without restraint.

"I have delivered the message, my lady. You should begin preparing yourself," the servant added.

Thalia closed her eyes, wishing to just go unconscious once more.

Back in Rosalind’s chamber, she glared at her footman, who now stood inside with his head slightly bowed. "What is it?" she asked sharply.

"My lady, your art lesson is scheduled for this morning. You are to proceed to the garden," Rowan said.

Rosalind watched him for a moment before replying. "I’ve heard you," she pressed her lips together as she turned toward the mirror.

She was already dressed and had finished her breakfast and It was time to face Lady Evelina again. The thought alone made her sigh inwardly.

She rose from her seat, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as she moved away from it. Her brown dress swept lightly behind her, the gloves on her hands matching it. Her hair fell in loose curls down her back, with the top section braided and pinned into place while two strands framed her face.

As she walked toward the door where Rowan still stood, her foot caught the front of her dress, and she stumbled forward before she could steady herself.

He moved at once, catching her before she could fall, his arms steady around her.

Rosalind’s heart skipped a beat as she met his gaze... before clearing her throat, and Rowan released her at once, his arms dropping to his sides as though the contact had burnt him.

Rosalind regained her composure as she lifted her chin, gathered her skirts, and walked past him without a word. A faint frown rested on her face, and it had everything to do with him.

What he had done the previous night lingered in her thoughts... She could not shake the feeling that he might report her for being out after curfew, and if Alaric spoke of it, then whatever chance she had of getting Rowan on her side would be gone. Yet, after what had happened in the garden, she could not place him. He did not act the way she expected, and that only made things worse.

As they walked toward the garden, she broke the silence. "How are your hands now?" she asked, because she had not forgotten.

Rowan hesitated for a moment before answering. "They are fine now."

"I see," Rosalind said, and she did not continue the conversation as they walked the rest of the way in silence.

By the time they arrived, the others were already gathered, and their attention shifted to her at once, including Lady Evelina.

Rosalind inclined her head slightly. "Good morning, Lady Evelina."

Lady Evelina’s gaze sharpened immediately. "You are late" she snapped before pointing at an empty space. "Take your seat and begin at once."

Rosalind bowed slightly and moved to her place. As she passed Verity, they exchanged slight bows before she settled onto the cushion, the canvas already placed before her.

"Today, you will be painting," Lady Evelina announced. "Study the sample carefully. The best work will be rewarded."

Rosalind reached for the brushes at her side, her gaze moving over the paints before settling on the blank canvas. When she finally looked up at the sample, her expression faltered.

Of all the things they could have chosen... flowers, fruit, even food... it was a statue.

Not just any statue, but that of a naked woman. The details couldn’t be ignored as every curve was crafted so precisely that it left nothing to the imagination. Heat rose to Rosalind’s cheeks as she forced herself to look away.

And this was allowed? By Lady Evelina of all people?

She cleared her throat, drawing attention despite herself, and Sabine’s annoyed gaze snapped toward her.

"Is this really what we are meant to paint?" Rosalind asked, unable to hide the disbelief in her voice.

"As you can see, others have already begun," Lady Evelina replied, clicking her tongue in irritation.

Rosalind glanced around and saw that it was true. Several of them were already painting without question. "But how is this..." she began, only to be cut off.

"This is His Majesty’s instruction," Lady Evelina said sharply, her gaze narrowing. "Are you questioning the king?"

Rosalind’s grip tightened around the brush.

Of course it was Alaric!

"If you know what is good for you, you will begin at once. You have only an hour left," Lady Evelina added.

Rosalind’s gaze returned to the statue, her expression hardening as she forced herself to look at it again.

How could she have forgotten that Alaric was such a shameless and twisted man?