Page 8 of Destiny Redeemed
“Gladly,” I muttered.
Noah turned to leave but paused, fixing me with a hard stare. “And Ilyana? Stay away from Rosalind. She’s been through enough because of you.”
With that parting shot, he strode away, leaving me seething in the hallway.
I waited until his footsteps faded before letting out a string of colorful curses that would have made a sailor blush.
“Bastard,” I hissed under my breath. “Would it have killed him to be a little nicer? He acts like I’m some demon spawned from the pits of hell!”
Laurel’s deadpan voice cut through my rant. “You can’t really blame him, my lady.”
I whirled on her, eyes narrowing. “Whose side are you on?”
A mischievous grin spread across her face. “Well, look on the bright side. Now that you’re free of Lord Noah, you’re at liberty to pursue other… royal interests.”
“What are you—” I began, then caught her meaning. My cheeks flushed traitorously. “Laurel! That’s absolutely—I would never—”
Her grin only widened.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I muttered, spinning on my heel and marching down the corridor. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
But as I walked away, I couldn’t quite banish the image of the golden prince from my mind.
Oh, hell no!
* * *
The shop was a disaster. Dust coated every surface, cobwebs adorned the corners like macabre decorations, and the floorboards creaked ominously with each step. But it wasmine.
I surveyed the chaos, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Well, Laurel, looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.”
My maid eyed a particularly large spider scuttling across the counter. “Indeed, my lady. Shall I fetch a broom or an exorcist?”
I snorted. “Let’s start with the broom. We’ll save the exorcism for when we discover whatever unholy pastries are lurking in that old oven.”
As we set to work, I couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. This dilapidated sweet shop was more than just a business venture—it was my ticket to independence. And most importantly, a way out for my family if everything goes wrong.
And then I can go and live my farmer dream!
Days bled into one another as we toiled. Annalise would stop by occasionally, offering design suggestions between bouts of sneezing from the dust. Tommy flitted in and out like a particularly grimy sparrow, always with some new tidbit of gossip clutched in his grubby little hands.
It was during one such renovation session that Laurel finally broached the subject I’d been waiting for.
“My lady,” she began hesitantly, pausing in her battle against a particularly stubborn cobweb. “I don’t mean to question your judgment, but… why are we doing all this ourselves? Surely with the money you’ve set aside, we could hire workers to handle the renovations?”
I set down my own broom, considering my words carefully. “We could,” I admitted. “But every coin we save now is a coin we can invest later. This is just the beginning, Laurel. We’re going to need every advantage we can get.”
Her brow furrowed. “But surely a funeral shop doesn’t require—”
“It’s not just about the shop,” I interrupted, my voice low. “This is our foundation. From here, we build an empire.”
So much money. I’ll swim in it.
“Also, we won’t be doing everything. We are just doing the part of the renovation we could do ourselves. Then I’ll hire workers for the bigger job.”
Just then, Tommy burst through the door, nearly tripping over his own feet in his excitement. “M’lady! M’lady! I got that information you wanted!”
I raised an eyebrow. “About the Vermillion Circle?”
