"I gave you an option." They stared at each other. The air between them felt tight, charged. "If I agree," Rosalyn said slowly, "I will not be silent."
"I will not be owned. I will not pretend to be grateful." His lips twitched just barely. "I would be disappointed if you did."
"And if I refuse?" "Then nothing changes," he said. "Except that you will still be trapped." The truth of it made her chest ache.
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them. "Call on my father tomorrow," she said. The Duke inclined his head. "Wise."
She laughed softly. "Or foolish." "Those are often the same thing." He offered his arm again.
"Shall we return before society invents its own ending?" She took it, her hand trembling despite herself. As they walked back into the light and noise of the garden, Rosalyn knew one thing with terrible clarity. Her life had just split into before and after, and she had no idea which side would destroy her.
Rosalyn barely slept. The night felt endless, turning slowly like a heavy wheel. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the Duke's face, calm and unreadable, as if nothing in the world could trouble him. Her own thoughts were the opposite.
They ran wild, sharp, and restless, filling her mind with questions she could not answer. By morning, the entire household was awake earlier than usual. Servants hurried through hallways. Her mother paced the drawing room.
Her father read the newspaper without seeing a single word. Word had spread faster than fire. By breakfast, every person in the town seemed to know that the Duke of Blackthornne had spoken to Rosalyn in private. Some whispers claimed he proposed on the spot.
Others claimed she had fainted in his arms. One rumor said she had purposely summoned him with a spell. Rosalyn sat at the table, hands folded tightly in her lap, staring at her untouched food. "Rosalyn," her mother said with forced calm, "you must tell us exactly what happened yesterday."
Her father lowered his newspaper. His eyes were sharp with suspicion. "And you must speak clearly." Rosalyn's throat tightened.
There was no soft way to share the truth. "The Duke asked to walk with me," she said. "We all saw that," her father replied. "What did he say?"
"He said he wishes to call on you today." Her mother's hand flew to her chest. Her father's expression froze. The room fell silent.
"For what purpose?" her father asked, although his voice already held the answer. "A marriage proposal," Rosalyn said. The words settled heavily over the table. Her mother blinked, stunned.
"To you?" Rosalyn nodded. "But why?" her father demanded. "You barely know one another."
"You had never met him before yesterday." "He said he does not need to know me." Her father pushed back his chair, pacing with sharp, angry steps. "This makes no sense."
"A Duke does not choose a bride in such a reckless manner." Rosalyn swallowed hard. "I did say something foolish, something he overheard." Her mother looked alarmed.