CHAPTER 291: SHE DIDN’T REGRET IT

Rose couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard she tried. It didn’t help that she had been alone for quite some time now. It was not hard to realize that. After Lady Deana left, no one else had been in her room.

Thomas hadn’t returned and neither had any servants. It was a long time ago, before sunset and it had been nighttime for quite some time now.

Rose was left alone in bed with nothing but her thoughts. And they weren’t good thoughts. All she could think about were horrible things—especially after what Lady Deana had said.

She also didn’t know the current state of the crown prince. Thomas had told her he was still unconscious, and that was it. She didn’t like the gnawing feeling on her stomach.

Rose was getting out of bed before she could even think about it. She couldn’t remain lying down. She lightly held her arm—the one with the injured shoulder. Thankfully, it wasn’t more than a sprain, and she would be fine in a few days.

The worst of the pain was centered around her abdomen and sides. Ryder had been relentless when he kicked her. She froze mid-rise as she remembered that she had killed him.

She hadn’t thought about it in the moment, nor did she get a chance to dwell on it while riding the crown prince to safety but now the weight of it came crashing down on her.

Rose sat back down on the bed. She didn’t regret it. She would probably do the same thing again if the circumstances repeated themselves. If she hadn’t stopped him, something told her he would have killed the crown prince and her too.

Rose winced at the image of Ryder’s bloodied head and the final moment when she had dropped the stone onto it. Rose took a deep breath and pushed the memory aside. The dead man was the least of her worries. She was just glad they had gotten out of the situation alive. She hoped the crown prince was fine. She was gravely worried.

Rose glanced at the door and pushed herself out of bed, heading straight for it. She opened it and looked around. She had half expected to see guards standing right outside, but surprisingly, the hallway was empty.

She had tried to escape, and she was likely to try again—yet no guard had been assigned to watch her. Perhaps Lord Leopold’s mansion operated differently, or perhaps the crown prince was in such a critical state that they couldn’t afford to pay her any attention.

That couldn’t be good.

Rose slowly stepped out of the room. She recognized this part of the estate—it was closer to the dining hall, and she could easily find her way to the room she had shared with the crown prince. Rose hoped that was where he was.

She didn’t think she should go there. A large part of her wanted to turn around and try to sleep again—but she had already tried, and it hadn’t worked. She simply couldn’t sleep.

She took a step forward. The halls had torches hanging on the walls, and they gave off enough light to guide her path as she made her way toward the guest wing.

Rose wrapped her arms around herself. It was cold. She should have brought something warm, but she had stepped out of her room on impulse, not thinking much about what she would do once she got out.

Her shoes barely made a sound as she walked, and she was surprised not to run into a single soul. She passed through a vast hallway, then up the stairs, and took a left. At the top of the stairs, she felt different—a part of her wanted to turn back and flee.

"What are you doing here?" a harsh voice said as she neared the crown prince’s chambers, and a hand reached out from the shadows to grab her.

Rose yelped, clamping her lips shut to avoid making too much noise. It was late. She hadn’t even seen the guard until he spoke—he had blended into the wall perfectly.

"I said, what are you—"

"What is going on there?" a voice said from the door of the crown prince’s room.

Rose couldn’t see clearly, but a figure sat just in front of the door, and another stood beside him. It was the second one who had spoken—and Rose would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Lord Thomas," she whispered.

"Rose," he replied, but his voice was just as harsh as the guard’s.

Thomas didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned to look at Prince Rylen, who was sitting silently. When Thomas moved, Rose caught a glimpse of his hair—and even in the dim hallway light, she would recognize that bright color anywhere.

"Let her through," Prince Rylen said with a loud enough sigh.

The guard in question stepped back, and Rose realized the walls were lined with guards all the way to where Prince Rylen sat.

"Thank you," Rose mumbled, clutching her arms—partly to keep warm, partly because she was anxious.

"Prince Rylen," she curtsied as she approached. "Lord Thomas."

"What are you doing here?" Thomas barked as she curtsied in front of them, and Rose visibly shrank.

"Lord Thomas is right," Prince Rylen said, not looking at her. "You should be resting."

"I apologize for coming," Rose whispered, her voice shakier than she had expected. "But I just couldn’t sleep, and I needed to inquire about the crown prince. He is in such a state because of m—"

"Shut up!" Thomas snapped.

His eyes blazed as he stared down at her, and Rose couldn’t figure out what was wrong—no, she knew exactly what was wrong. She had endangered the heir to the throne. This kind of treatment was to be expected.

But it still hurt.

"Go back to your room," Thomas said coldly, taking a step forward.

Prince Rylen held out a hand to stop him. Thomas hesitated but eventually stepped back.

"Thomas is right—you should be in bed. Your injuries are also a reason to worry. You’ve been favoring your arm since you got here. I’m sure it must still hurt," Rylen said, finally lifting his face to look at her.