Chapter 2
By the time I slung my woven reed backpack over my shoulder and was about to head out, Alaric had just stepped out of his room.
He was getting ready to go to court.
The cold, early spring air hit his profile, and he gave off a vibe that said: keep your distance.
He didn't even notice me.
But the pop-up comments did.
[Whoa, Willow switched up her style?]
[LOL, what noble lady wears a tavern wench tunic? Willow's like a toad in royal robes, so out of line.]
[Only people who actually get their hands dirty wear tavern wench tunics. Is Willow finally trying to change her ways?]
[Willow could change a hundred ways, but if Alaric doesn't love her, nothing's gonna change that.]
[Willow's probably hoping this will get Alaric to notice her, but he didn't even look her way. LOL!]
I lowered my head.
I couldn’t understand why strangers would harbor such malice toward me.
As for Alaric not loving me…well…that did hurt. Quite a bit.
But hurt as I was, life still had to go on.
I could lose love, but I couldn't lose my life.
The chat accused me of living off Alaric’s money, so I decided to support myself.
Back home in the country, whenever the farm was quiet, I'd make my own rouge and take it to Stillwater to bring in a little extra cash.
Honestly, that was the only thing I was good at.
I picked the roselle blossoms myself, so it didn't cost me a dime.
It was perfect for someone like me, flat broke and itching to hustle.
I was out in the wild, picking flowers.
Didn't expect to bump into Quentin Montclair, Alaric's buddy.
His dad was some big-shot official.
Honestly, I could never remember what exact title he had.
Anyway, he never had to break a sweat.
So while Alaric was up before dawn, working himself to the bone at court for the emperor, Quentin was out in the wild, alone, just admiring the blooming crabapple trees.
When he saw me picking flowers, he started helping out, all wide-eyed and curious like a little kid discovering something new.
When he heard I was trying to make it on my own, his eyes practically sparkled.
Quentin was picking flowers at lightning speed, practically stripping every roselle blossom within a couple of miles. He left the whole area bare.
My backpack ended up buried under a massive heap of flowers.
It was nowhere to be seen.
I had no choice but to rent a cart to haul all the flowers back.
Quentin stubbornly insisted on pushing the cart himself.
Man, this guy was totally born in the wrong town, I thought to myself.
If he'd grown up in our village, he'd be the first to jump into farm work.
About fifteen minutes later, I was pulling the cart.
Quentin was sitting on top of it.
He was panting, looking a little shy and out of breath.
"Willow, you're seriously strong," he said, still trying to catch his breath.
After Quentin promised he'd make sure to support my business, I headed back to the Ashworth estate.
As soon as I stepped inside, I walked straight into a solid chest.
My hands instinctively gave it a couple of testing squeezes.
Above my head, a cool, quiet voice drifted down.
"Willow, where have you been?" Alaric's voice was cool and quiet above my head.
Crap! I thought.
I was just a simple, honest country girl. How could I ever tell a lie?
Men and their pride, it was the most important thing in the world to them.
No way I could just tell him I spent the whole day hanging out with his buddy, right?
Not wanting to get into it, I slipped past him and said, "I had something to do."
"Something to do?" Alaric called out, pausing in his tracks.
He lingered for a moment, then trailed after me.
"You didn't even come see me once today, and..." Alaric started, his voice trailing off.
He blushed.
I knew exactly what Alaric was hinting at.
I hadn't messed with him at all today, not even a little.
No grabbing his abs, no sneaky hand-holding, nothing.
Alaric was seriously good-looking, and his build was solid as hell.
Honestly, I used to be a total creep, always lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce and cop a feel whenever the mood struck.
I knew there were tons of noble girls after him.
Tall, short, chubby, skinny, pale, tan, some could recite poetry, some could dance up a storm...
And me?
I was just an ordinary farm girl.
Orphaned, with barely 2 thousand dollars to my name.
I always felt insecure about us.
So I was always doing little things to make sure everyone knew he belonged to me.
Today, though, let alone copping a feel, I didn't even sneak a peek at him.
I thought it over and admitted it honestly.
"I've been busy, busy earning my own money," I said to him.
Alaric just paused, saying nothing.
"Got your eye on any new accessories lately? I'll get them for you," he said, his voice warm.
I jumped, turned around, and saw his handsome face lit up with a grin.
"No, no, I really can't spend your money," I replied, putting on my best responsible face.
The smile faded from his face.
He furrowed his brow, his voice growing more serious.
"My money is yours to spend, no questions asked," Alaric said.
With that, he moved swiftly and pulled me straight into the bedroom.
He guided my hand to his chest, his voice carrying a slight tremor.
"This body's yours too, touch it all you want," he said.
My heart was pounding like crazy.
I instinctively tried to pull my hand back, but he kept it pinned, refusing to let go.
My back pressed against the door as Alaric leaned in, his breath hot against my ear.
His voice was low and husky.
"Don't touch anyone else," he murmured.
Did Alaric see me helping Quentin get off the cart today? I wondered.
With that, he straightened his clothes and headed out to join Percival, the Secretary of State's son, at his banquet.
The pop-up comments were buzzing with confusion.