Page 107 of Rook of Ruin
“You don’t think there is more to it?” I ask cautiously.
He runs a hand through his hair. “What I think is, when you were brought to the inn, you were barely alive, and I think it’s a possibility you were traumatized.” His dark brown eyes are full of truth. “I will forever regret leaving you that day. I did it because I thought I was doing the right thing, protecting you.” Simon shakes his head. “I have seen you almost die more times than I care to think about.”
Before I can say anything, banging on our door has Simon groaning. We hear Milo laughing and yelling for him. Simon chuckles. “I’m being summoned by a scoundrel.”
“Go.” I shove him, trying to smile. His eyes graze over my naked body, and he sighs, leaving me confused and concerned.
Forcing myself up to shower off, I know full well that the Sly Man I married omitted something. What that is, I do not know . . .yet.
“What do you think?” Simon waits patiently, hopeful for approval.
I gaze at the large estate. It’s stunning, and I can’t fully express my awe.
Simon’s estate, our estate, sits away from the large town of Lautterum, surrounded by rolling green mountains and beautifully large trees. From this far out, I notice the large white stone wall surrounding our home with an open iron gate welcoming us. The house itself is a mixture of white stone and dark wood with a grey slate roof and beautiful large windows gleaming in the sunlight. Although the sheer size of the house is daunting, it’s still cozy and clearly loved.My new home. I almost giggle when we come up over a hill and I can see a large lake nearby.
“Simon, it’s stunning. I don’t have the words. I love it.”
He beams at me. “Welcome home, Orlaith. Welcome to Brynmawr.”
“I want to know everything. I want to see everything, and I can’t wait.” I press into Sal gently, and she takes off, Simon joyously laughing behind me.
We ride swiftly up to the front, the entrance in the shape of a U. Beautiful purple wisteria creeps along the white stone, and large planters of flowers bloom brightly. Servants stand, ready to greet us. A groom takes Sal and Artho after we dismount, and I smirk when Simon holds out his hand for me. I take it, and the joy it brings him makes my heart soar. He introduces the staff, and then we wait for the carriages.
Milo barely lets his stop before jumping out and running around, pointing at this and that. Simon helps Paul down from the carriage, and we walk into our home.
Warm splendor greets us on the inside, the walls painted a stark white against dark wood, the colors carefully intertwined to create a feeling of serene comfort. Milo points up, and I gape at the painting on the ceiling. It looks like the sky—the clouds are so incredibly lifelike, I almost expect to see them floating by. White roses fill the entrance hall, their fragrance bringing an earthiness to our home.
“Go.” Simon motions. “Go into every room, look at everything, get into anything.”
Milo takes off upstairs, and Simon helps Paul down a hallway and into a guest bedroom to relax.
Doing exactly what Simon suggested, I explore our home. At the other end of the hall, a large wooden door twice my height reveals an open study. The windows stretch from the floor to the ceiling, and a glass door opens to a perfectly manicured lawn and a small garden. The smell of lavender hits me as I take it all in.
Simon’s arms come around me, rocking me gently side to side against his chest. “I love you. I want you to be happy here. Whatever you want to do to make it feel more at home, do it.”
“Maybe more flowers.” I point to the right side of the garden. “Maybe extend it to the wall?”
“Anything.” Simon kisses my neck and pulls me away from my thoughts. “Come with me.” He pauses. “But first, close your eyes.”
I do and feel Simon remove my shortsword and daggers, sweeping me off my feet and into his arms. My eyes briefly flutter open, and dimples greet me before I quickly close them again. Simon hums as he climbs the stairs, and I find myself smiling and holding onto him. I hear a soft giggle from Milo.
“Go to the kitchen, and tell them I said you could eat as many sweets as you want!” Simon yells out. I tip my head back and laugh—he kisses my forehead, and I close my eyes tighter, afraid to peek. He turns, and I hear the click of a lock before he sets me down, placing his hands over my eyes.
His broad chest rises against my back. “Ready?”
“Yes,” I laugh out, opening my eyes and trying to see through his fingers.
Simon removes his hands, and hundreds of white roses fill a very large bedroom. The sun shines through the windows, kissing the beautiful large sleigh bed and the light green rug, which is covered with scattered white petals.
I spin around and place my hands on Simon’s cheeks, kissing him, then he scoops me back up into his arms. “Let’s wash off our travels.”
Our leathers go flying, and I squeal with delight as he turns on the shower and begins washing me off. His calloused hands feel wonderful scraping down my skin.
We hear loud banging at our door, and Simon curses, rinsing the soap off himself, then wrapping a towel around his large body. His voice becomes gruff as he speaks to someone behind the bedroom door.
“O, I’ll send up your new lady’s maid. We’ve been summoned to visit my father.”
Confused, I stare at him, waiting for the joke. “We just got here.”
