A/N: Ugh Wattpad is giving me 'technical difficulties.' This is my favorite chapter so far.

If you really the chapter drop a vote. Or comment your thoughts. I love reading them.

AND FOR A MOMENT, just for a moment, we looked at each other smilingly.

Happily.

I think it was the first time Matthew and I had a true good time with each other, even if it lasted seconds.

"I asked everywhere for you, only to find that you're in the library. Whatever are you doing here darling? You know it's that woman's-" Victoria's voice quieted once she came to the area where Matthew and I were sitting. And scowled. My own smile instantly disappeared from my face. Whatever had transpired between us was clearly over with.

"I enjoyed that," Matthew's voice cut through the silence. I ripped my gaze away from Victoria's. We both turned to look at him. "I haven't ever talked you that...in that way before. It was refreshing...I enjoyed your company." I felt a flame light beneath my skin.

"Thank you," I breathed.

"Matthew," Victoria interrupted, enunciating each syllable with the precise emphasis she needed to convey the clear implication behind her tone. He didn't pay her any mind. His eyes rested on me for a couple seconds, before he re-directed his attention to her.

"Darling," he said sweetly, getting up from the chair. He leisurely walked to Victoria's side and planted a light kiss on her forehead. She, on the other hand, was far from calm. I don't even think the fact that he kissed her registered. Victoria's eyes were zeroed in on me. I rose from my divan to exit the library, Temptations of Love in hand.

"Goodbye Matthew."

🥀

I felt quite triumphant after my moment with Matthew t in the library, even though I knew that I shouldn't. But I couldn't quite keep the giddiness out of my system. Even when I retired, I'm certain that I smiled throughout my slumber. It felt good to finally win, in a sense, against that witch.

My light-heartedness was short-lived. When I awoke, feeling thoroughly refreshed and in good spirits, the first thing I saw was in no way pleasant. My dear aunt Sarah. Standing over me with a domineering stance. In her right hand was a plate with a sparse amount of food. A few blocks of cheese, an egg, and what appeared from my view to be a boiled potato. "Good morning Rose."

"Where's Marigold?" I croaked.

"Marigold? Who's that?" she asked sharply. As if it was really any of her concern whether I interacted with a 'Marigold' or not. Or maybe, she really did think it was.

"She's the girl who always gives me my food in the morning," I answered. I propped myself up. It was like her appearance had not only sucked my positive mood, but pumped fatigue into me as well. My head felt clouded. I couldn't find the energy to run her out with the same type of animation I had done with Agnes.

"Oh the house girl, she sounded relieved, I talked to her. I realized you break your fast within your chambers and thought I might bring your food up to you instead."

"Really? And to what do I owe the pleasure?" I remarked sarcastically. Sarah's eyes studied me with a high degree of dissatisfaction.

"You should watch your mouth," she replied finally.

"Or what?" I challenged. I sat up in a more straightened position. "What will you do to me?" Her face folded in a sneer faster than I could blink.

"Do not cross me girl. Not today."

"I shall do whatever I please. You seem to forget that I am no longer the cowering girl at the age of sixteen. The one you forced into a dress that wasn't meant to be. Into a marriage that wasn't-"

"That was your father's doing! Do you think any of us really cared if you got married or not? You could go and rot in the streets for all we cared. Go to the rank of filth that your mother belonged to. You certainly took after her well enough, you haven't any Axel blood at all. The 'marriage that wasn't mean to be' is the very thing that saved your hide. Not our's."

I saw blood. I didn't much care what anyone said about me. But no one insulted my mother. However, remembering the promise I made to myself to never hurt anyone, the one I had broken with Matthew, was the only thing that kept me from slapping that woman to high heaven. I wouldn't break that promise again.

"Why are you here?"

Sarah smiled, probably because of the content it gave her that her words didn't get a rise out of me. Or a snarky return.

"Your husband told us that he wants to delay the divorce proceedings. He has a child on the way with a woman that he clearly loves. In his letter his eagerness to divorce you was clearly expressed. So I can only conclude that anything to delay this affair is on your part." I blinked.

"So what? It's my marriage. And if anything about this situation resembled any sort of normalcy, you would be strong advocates for this decision. Or at the very least, you wouldn't care."

"I thought it was the marriage that wasn't meant to be."

"Leave. Now."

Plate still in hand, Sarah neared me with venom in her eyes. "I don't know why you're delaying the proceedings of the divorce. And, frankly, I have very little reason to care. But if you think that by doing this you're crossing your family, or if you think that you can-"

"Even your own daughter believes that I should be wary of you."

I almost said it. When I say almost, I was damn near too close, my mouth was already open, the words eager to push off my tongue.

But then I remembered.

It's a matter of staying one step ahead, of staying sharp. If you really want to show them that you are something formidable, beat them with the very hand they intended to kill you with.

If Bert hadn't interrupted my certain train of thought, I would've probably spilled more than I intended just now. I sighed internally. A matter for another time it seemed. I looked up into Sarah's eyes. I would take a special pleasure in beating her. People like Sarah prided their own-their true blood-more than anything. I could only imagine her horror to discover that her daughter's loyalties didn't lie with her mother.

"Leave!" I exclaimed instead. It seemed to have some impact, as she flinched at my tone.

"Be careful Rose. Be very careful," she said before setting my plate down on my nightstand and turning to walk away.

"You can take this food back where you found it. I never eat this sort of thing," I called after her.

"You could use that sort of diet. Just look at you," was her response. Very typical of my aunt. I had the heart to throw the plate right at her head. Of course, I refrained. I only watched her back as she left my room. After Sarah left, I bolted the door. I think now it was finally time to scope out the countryside like I had intended weeks ago. At least I know now that I shouldn't just take a horse from the stables and intend to figure it out later. That was a recipe for disaster. After putting on a rose-colored dress and matching veil, I deemed myself ready to depart from this dreadful place. My stomach growled impatiently.

I'd have to eat first.

🥀

After breaking my fast, I went to find a carriage driver. This time, one was easily attained. "Where to ma'am?" he asked.

"The country," I answered. He raised his eyebrows.

"No specific location?"

"No...not exactly. Just out there, if you know what I mean. I'll decide when we stop." I fancied he hadn't the faintest clue what I meant. But I also knew he wouldn't ask questions.

"Alright," he answered, nodding to the footman.

After I was helped into my carriage I asked, "How long will it take?"

After a few moments of hesitation the footman answered, "Maybe a half and hour or so. We have to drive out into the outskirts of the kingdom."

"Very well."

🥀

Soon, at about the time the footman had said, the scenery began to change. It developed from lofty houses and the infamous Castle of Therese, to open shrubbery and wild life. I felt the change too. The roads went from being smooth to rocky. Quite manageable, but not as easily done. I peered out of the window intently, searching for a place I might call home. And after several minutes, there it was. There was a cabin-not too shabby or small. It was surrounded by beautiful wildflowers growing freely about. Everything around it was green with dream-like perfection. "There!" I exclaimed with conviction. I kicked the carriage as to get their attention. I opened the door as soon as they stopped. They looked at me as if I was mad. "We'll stop here. You stay by the carriage as well, I'll venture alone."

"But ma'am-"

"I insist." I waited for a split second for them to follow me, and they didn't move a muscle. Satisfied that they obeyed, I ventured out to the cabin alone. Upon coming close to the dwelling, I looked up at it in admiration. I didn't even have to plant anything here, I could just tend to wild flowers. The scene was already so sweet-looking, and with regard to children-

"What are you doing here?" a voice asked. Startled, I turned around. There was a man. He had a brawny, rugged handsomeness to him, only due to the muscles that showed because of his rolled up sleeves. He looked about Matthew's age (Matthew is eight years my senior) and had skin like mine. Only darker, much darker. Instead of a rich ebony his own skin dipped into a color resembling a light black. But it was beautiful. I would have been mesmerized if his light brown eyes weren't piercing my own and his face wasn't pressed in a scowl. "What, he repeated, are you doing here?"

"I w-was j-just-"

"It's not for sale. This land is my home. Not for you or for anyone, no matter how much you offer," he interrupted.

"Really if it's yours-"

"No I don't believe a word you're saying. You wealthy folk, you always breathe the same lies to try and appease me. As if I'm stupid. I'm not. I have a boy to take care of for God's sake, my wife is buried in this very ground. This place is worth everything to me. I'm not selling," he continued.

"I'm sorry, I whispered, your your wife."

"No you're not," he scoffed. I nodded.

"I am. Truly."

"Why?" he challenged.

"Because my mother died when I was very small. I know what it's like for a child to grow without a mother. It's heart-wrenching. And I know what it does, my voice lowered, to the people that loved the mother. Very much." My mind flashed back to when my father used to laugh and sit me on his lap. When he used to kiss me goodnight.

"Yeah? And what does it do to them?"

"It turns some people into horrible things," I answered. His eyes softened just a little as he looked at me. I think he saw something genuine.

"But once they get over it, get better and heal, they're not horrible anymore. It just takes time. And even if they are...horrible, there's still some good left-"

"No. To say that would romanticize the plight of abuse that my father put me through. He turned horrible, he crucified his 'good' self. He changed," I said with finality. The man shifted uncomfortably. I didn't know why I had blurted that out of nowhere. It wasn't until my relatives had decided to come to Whitfield that two more people now knew-besides my relatives, Elisabeth, and I-about how my burns came to be. Till then it had been a bloody secret. Now I was telling it to a stranger. "Well, I did like the property. But in all frankness, it means a great deal to you than it ever could for me, so I have no intention of trying to deprive you of it. I can find a house somewhere else. I'm sorry if I took up an undue portion of your time. Good day."

"No no, he said before I had the chance to turn around, don't leave. Come in, have some tea or something. I have to apologize for my earlier behavior. You're not like the rest of them."

You're not like the rest of them. He had no idea. "Rose. Rose Axel." I extended my gloved hand to meet his.

"Eric. Eric Blossom." He shook my hand with a firm grip. I laughed softly.

"Blossom? What a wonderful surname."

🥀

We talked conversationally for about an hour. I didn't see his son in the house but I didn't make any comment. And Eric? Eric was wonderfully charming.

"Why is someone like you so...so.."

"So rich and privileged looking for a home in the countryside?" I finished.

"Well...yes," he said bashfully. I sighed.

"I'm not actually 'Rose Axel.' Well I am, do not mistake me. My first name is Rose and my surname is Axel. Was Axel. I'm married to Matthew Whitfield." His face gave the impression of surprise.

"Like Whitfield Mansion? You're Mrs. Matthew Whitfield?" I nodded in the affirmative. "Oh."

"Yes, well, he's divorcing me. Our marriage has not been...it isn't a happy one. It never was."

"And why not?" I sighed. Where did I even begin to explain to anyone why my marriage was so toxic. I only managed to gesture to my veil.

"Couldn't you take it off?" he asked.

"No. Well, not really. I certainly couldn't have at the time. Four years ago, as defeated as I was from my childhood, I don't think I ever could've mustered the strength."

"You were only but a child then anyway. How old are you now?"

"Twenty. And you?"

"Thirty, he smiled. Even now you're very young."

"Perhaps. But this is the age women are expected to be married. To give birth," I pointed out. He neared me with his chair. It was only but a few inches. But I took notice.

"What's under your veil?" he asked. He didn't ask if anything under it was horrible, or why I wore it. He didn't ask why I wouldn't, or couldn't, trust Matthew to see me. He didn't ask how long I'd worn it.

And I don't know why.

But I felt inclined to trust Eric. To like him. Very slowly, I peeled the rose-colored film off of my face. There was not a gasp of surprise, a look of pity, or a face trying too hard not to convey anything. He merely raised his eyebrows in genuine apathy. "That's why you didn't let him see you?" I blinked.

"Isn't this reason enough? I'm...not....generally what a man would like to see on his wedding night. Or anyone would like to see on any given day."

"So what? You let people treat and think of you as if you're less than yourself? Because your father burned you? Because you didn't feel good enough for your husband? For any man?"

"How did you know my father burned me?" I questioned.

"Oh come now Rose. You said your father was terrible and that he abused you. Your face and neck are covered in burns. It's not hard to go from there." I felt myself flush.

"Right," I muttered. "Being confident, knowing my worth. It's not as simple as you think. I've only started to learn recently." Eric poured himself another cup of tea and spooned in a generous amount.

"Of course dealing with feelings concerning oneself is difficult. It always is. But if you lay everything out in front of you, in the simplest terms, tell yourself what you need to do..." Eric trailed off. His eyes had wandered somewhere else behind me. I turned. Out in the yard in front of the cabin, was a bush. I looked closer. It seemed to be sprouting... I laughed. It was a rose bush. I suddenly felt an unexpected warmth upon my hand. I turned back around to find his hand atop my own. His eyes were unbelievably kind at the moment. I felt a warm feeling go from settling in my stomach to rising in my face. And just as suddenly his hand went away.

"Anyway, I tried my very hardest to contain my emotions, we are having a divorce. And without my husband, I have no prospects. My father left me a sizable fortune when he died, but I was only sixteen when it happened. I'm sure my relatives found a way to take all the money that wasn't personally stored by his lawyer. I would be left with no other choice but to stay with my relatives. And they-they are as perfectly horrible as my father was. I could never live with any of them. So I wanted to find a place here in the countryside. Somewhere humble, quiet, and cheap, somewhere no one would bother to look. At least not them. And-"

"-this is the perfect place," he finished. I looked around his furnished cabin. It was awfully simplistic and small by the standards that I had lived by. But it was a home. All I had ever really wanted throughout my life was love and a home.

"I've always wanted that too," he whispered quietly. I clapped both my hands over my mouth. Had those words really been said aloud? He laughed. "Don't look so mortified. I don't mind that you said that-really. I don't mind having a frank conversation with anyone. Especially a woman."

"I do. We were already being frank...Eric. But that was brutally frank. Pathetically frank I might add," I said.

"So what? There's no such thing as too much honesty, at least, up to a certain point."

"There is!" I exclaimed, embarrassed. He rolled his eyes mockingly. But it was kind.

"No. I don't think so."

"Well I do."

Eric sighed. "Pretend you aren't in high society and that you don't have to navigate the social barriers it entails. The do's and dont's. Pretend you are not speaking to a stranger, and navigating the social barriers that that entails. Pretend-pretend you can tell me everything as easily as you have told me other things before. And I will do the same."

"I've always been considered...ample. No, not ample. That's what all the girls would gently refer to me as. What the tutor sometimes whispered to my governess about. What my best-my former friend's parents talked about when the thought I couldn't hear. 'Oh Rose. Poor girl. Too ample.' They never said it, never wanted too. Even though they were already terribly rude for gossiping about a little girl, they still refused to say it. I hated it. I was fat. I am fat. That's what they were so afraid of saying. And after the death of my mother they pitied me more for it. 'Oh Rose this' and 'oh Rose that', all these little things. But they didn't really care, not really. And I knew it. There wasn't any love or any home after my mother-no love in my sham of a marriage. And that's all I've wanted-all I've hungered for." There was a pause as I caught my breath, ragged from my revelation.