Reality hit like a ton of bricks, and though she didn't know what a ton felt like, Rhosyn definitely knew what one brick felt like—and it hurt. So, she was sure that the weight crushing down on her must equate into a ton.
She didn't want to open her eyes and face the world, but images of last night's ball played on the backs of her lids and she needed to escape all over again. That and the latch to her bedroom door sounded and for some reason, Rhosyn found herself paranoid—whispers of spies dripping in her mind.
Her room looked the same as always, except she knew someone had been in here since she'd been away. It was the way her desk was arranged too tidy, something Master Oswin refused to touch since he lost an important document once and Rhosyn all but fired him.
"You're awake," Elin's voice washed over her and Rhosyn's attention was stolen by her friend.
Emotion spilled from her and Elin hurried the short distance to wrap Rhosyn in a tight hug. The cutting guilt loosening and Rhosyn decided she liked hugs. They were warm and safe, affection curling pleasantly within her and she felt loved.
"I'm so glad you're better," Rhosyn whispered, her grip tightening slightly.
"And I'm glad you're safe." The maid pulled back just enough to see her face. "Why are you crying, My Lady?" she half giggled, half sobbed herself.
True to her word, tears were streaming down Rhosyn's face and it was the oddest feeling. She wasn't sure when was the last time she'd cried... Probably when her mum died, maybe when Edrien threw that brick at her... It was all so long ago, another lifetime even.
"I thought you were going to die because of me," Rhosyn choked out and remembered why she hated crying—it was ugly.
Elin beamed through her tears, absolutely pretty even when crowded by tearful sobs. She made crying look happy somehow. "The doctor said you likely saved me by making me throw up the contents of my stomach," she explained, her hand clutching Rhosyn's in reassurance.
There was a moment where they just sat and Rhosyn enjoyed the peacefulness of it all. This was the calm after the storm of last night.
Elin worried her lip, the way she did when she wanted to ask something she was sure Rhosyn wouldn't want to answer.
"Caerwyn said you both went north—to Duke Karsyn's..." she started slowly, watching how the words summoned memories Rhosyn choked down. "And that last night..." Elin almost flinched at the expression on her face, "what happened?"
Rhosyn was already shaking her head, a sigh forcing itself from her. Images scattered across her mind and she sieved through them, purposely numbing herself to them lest they bite—again.
"Too much, but one thing we know for sure..." Rhosyn paused for a second. "Edrien will not help—"
"What?" Elin gasped, completely surprised. "But the prince always helps, you two go all the way back..." her words dying at the look on Rhosyn's face.
Her face settled into all practiced politics and perfect performance, but the strain of Edrien's selfish betrayal tugged at the edges.
"So...?"
"I've gained too many enemies, I can't afford to make anymore," Rhosyn explained, and it all sounded too clinical.
The wedding was less than a week away, and she had no dress for it. Because it wasn't supposed to happen. Something unsettling and half nauseous twisted through her, but she couldn't quite name it.
"Elin," her voice came strained, weak. "How quick can we get a wedding dress made?" the words felt hollow, distant.
"My Lady," her maid blinked. "Even the simplest of wedding dresses would take about three weeks..."
It seemed even time was against her, mocking even her surrender.
"But, My Lady." Elin's lips twisted at the corners. "I found your mother's dress." She squeezed Rhosyn's hand and something warm shuddered through her.
Then something nervous.
"It'll take a few days to alter it to fit you perfectly, but it'll be ready," Elin whispered thrilled. "I'll go get it!" She leapt up and rushed for the door, caught up in her own excitement.
Rhosyn just watched after her, feeling locked outside her body as the room went utterly silent. Being locked in her mind was a terrible place most of the time—most of all now.
Flashes of images skittered across her vision, and she breathed through it. The King's smirk. Edrien's touch. Blistering cold. Hot lips. Something twisted within her and she pushed forward. A foreign threat. A plea to escape—hers.
She pretended that last night didn't dominate her mind, but it was a lie—she was good at those...
Sometimes.
A knock called her from the darkness and she was grateful. Oswin peeked around the door, revealing Sir Caerwyn standing guard as normal.
"My Lady," Oswin almost stuttered, then swallowed fumbling with his glasses. "Duke Karsyn is here requesting to see you."
Caerwyn shifted on the spot. "I'll handle this—"
"No," the word came out too sudden and desperate, Rhosyn catching herself and rephrasing. "I'll see him."
Anxiety bubbled up inside her, but she had to deal with him sooner or later. And she didn't know if she could wrestle the courage up for later. So just like she did when she got back up after the brick landed, Rhosyn stood tall.
"Yes, My Lady, I'll ask him to wait—"
"In uncle's office—I'll be there shortly."