The King’s Lover

"Is that a coat?" Rose asked, disbelief in her tone. She rushed to her feet as the fire crackled behind her.

Rose took long steps toward the piles of cut wood. However, the wood didn't hold her attention; the coat did. She noticed it was atop a pile, but it didn't seem like the rest was clothes.

Rose picked up the coat first, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. It was a black fur mantle. Was this fox fur?

Rose was in disbelief. This would cost at least a few gold coins, maybe more. She turned it around to get a closer look. What did Thomas say to the baron to get him to give her all this?

Rose looked around the house and back at the fur coat, nothing came close to it. If they wanted to purchase such an expensive item, it was likely to cost them everything they owned.

Rose couldn't help it—she was cold, the fire did something but warm clothes would get her warm faster. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and settled it over her shoulders. It was so soft she could lie in it all day. Rose took a deep breath as she felt herself grow even warmer.

The fur was exquisite, expensive. Rose doubted she could go down the street with such an expensive item on her body and not get robbed.

She was still fussing with the coat, when she heard sounds coming from the back door. Rose wasn't alarmed. She knew it was her father returning home.

She didn't take off the coat as she turned, ready to receive him. Her father bent his head as he walked in through the back of the house. He held fresh wood under his arms and a few dry ones but there weren't enough of the dry ones. There was a worried look on his face as he entered the house.

Snow covered his head and broad shoulders. He wore sheepskin, the fur was dirty and coarse, but it served its purpose. It was mainly when he set out to work in the snow.

He stepped into the room and paused. It didn't take him long to notice the difference. "It's warm," her father said, catching eyes with Rose, who stood by the front door.

"Yes," Rose giggled, clinging to the coat.

It felt so nice, she didn't want to take it off. The coat was slightly oversized, and Rose wondered if it had belonged to the baron. She winced at the repercussions that were sure to follow, but right now she was warm, and that was all that mattered.

Vallyn's brows furrowed as he saw the coat on Rose's shoulders, but it was more from confusion than disapproval.

"W'ere did ye get…" The rest of her father's words trailed off as he realized it wasn't only the coat that was new.

"Lord Thomas asked the baron to send these. Can you believe it?"

"The baron?" Vallyn asked with wide eyes, gripping the wood under his arms tightly. He didn't seem pleased.

"Yes, that's where I got the wood from. See," she turned to the pile. "This should last us at least two weeks. If I manage it right, it can last a month. I'm sure we can figure out the rest of winter as time goes by."

Rose didn't think it was right to ask her father why they had run out of wood so early, but she had an idea. He couldn't leave her mother for long periods of time, so his work definitely suffered.

Her father had to do whatever it took for them to survive. It also explained how his work made its way to Furtherfield in that manner. Rose didn't think there was any reason to mention that—the same way she wouldn't mention that it was odd they had no firewood.

"Wait, slow down," her father whispered, walking toward the fireplace and dropping the fresh wood he had brought in close to it to try to dry it. The snow on him had started to melt. Rose didn't hold back while restarting the fire.

He walked to the bench—the only chair in the house and took off the sheepskin as he sat down. "Did ye say tha lord asked tha baron to give us tha wood, tha coat, and all tha to us?" Vallyn asked.

"Yes," Rose smiled, though it wasn't as strong as before.

"For wha reason?" he asked with a frown.

Rose froze, unsure how to explain. But she would be lying if she said she didn't understand his question. Nobles didn't give peasants gifts without wanting something in return.

Rose wondered if she had been desensitized. She was somewhat used to this—she didn't think of the consequences first. Or rather, she did, but shoved them to the back of her mind.

"The crown prince," Rose whispered.

Thomas did have enough power to get the baron to give her all this, but at the same time, the baron could have pretended otherwise. Still, she knew the baron was fearful of word reaching the crown prince.

Thomas was a brat, and half the time she was tempted to smack the back of his head, but she couldn't deny how thoughtful he was. He was the reason she hadn't frozen to death on several occasions, and he had also fought Rylen not to let her go to the castle.

However, Rose didn't know how to explain to her father that the lord was nice—she never thought a day would come when she would think those words about Thomas. It was easier to mention the crown prince.

"Tha crown prince," her father whispered.

Rose nodded and walked past him to her mother. Her lips looked a little less blue now that the room was warm, and the fear in Rose's chest eased—just a little.

Still, no matter how she tried to make this seem normal, she couldn't shake the thought. Thomas had done this. Thomas, who scowled more than he smiled, who dismissed her with curt words, yet still made sure she wouldn't freeze.

Rose lightly touched her mother's cheeks as she still slept. Her mother stirred but didn't wake. She had been sleeping a lot, but Rose wasn't complaining. The more she rested, the less pain she felt.

Rose started to take off the coat. It was warm, but she didn't think she needed it more than her mother, and unfortunately, there was just one.

"Wha are ye doin'?" her father questioned.

"Mot'er needs it more," Rose replied.

"No, yer mot'er does not. Ye don't 'ave any winter clot'es and ye barely 'ave any clot'es at all. Put it on. Ye just got back—it would be sad if ye died from cold instead."

Vallyn stood as he spoke and lifted the coat so it covered his daughter once again.

"Fat'er," she cried.

"I am grateful to tis Lord T'omas," her father said with a stiff smile.

Rose knew how hard it must have been for him to admit it, but it would be ridiculous for him to refuse. Still, she knew he didn't like it. She suspected he felt powerless, the same way he had when she left.

Rose grabbed his arm. She didn't know what she could say to make the situation better, and she doubted there was anything to say, but she truly hoped he wouldn't blame himself so much.

Suddenly, her mother opened her eyes as though she could tell they were both looking at her. She squinted at first, trying to recognize her surroundings, then she smiled.

"Mot'er!" Rose cried and leaned forward to hug her.

"Mi daug'ter," her mother said.

Rose pulled back and stared at her. She didn't miss how strong her voice sounded. "How do you feel?" she asked immediately.

Her mother's eyes squinted some more, and instead of answering, she stared at the coat. "Is tha new clot'es?" Her voice held surprise.

"Yes!" Rose grinned and spun for her.

"It looks good," her mother said immediately. "Brings out yer 'air."

"I knew you'd say that," Rose grinned. "Ah! Breakfast. I'll get to making it and I'll prepare your herbs too," Rose said and rushed off before her mother could even reply.

Her mother chuckled to herself as she watched her daughter speed off, then turned to her husband. "Did something 'appen?" she asked softly.

Vallyn shook his head. "Good mornin'," he said, kissing her forehead.

She closed her eyes and said, "It's warm."

Vallyn wasn't sure if she meant his kiss or the room.

"'Elp me sit up," she said.

"I don't—"

"I 'ave enough energy for tha. Let me sit up."

Vallyn nodded and helped her. She sighed into his arms and lingered more than she needed to, but Vallyn wasn't in a hurry to pull away. He would hold her all day if that was what she wanted.

An exaggerated gasp came from the doorway as Rose watched them in that half-hug position. "Fat'er," Rose said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Mot'er just woke up. Won't ye let her have breakfast first?"

Her father slowly pulled away from his wife and laughed.