The King's Lover Chapter 1: Rose

Coughs.

Coughs.

Coughs.

"Mother," Rose exclaimed, rushing from the kitchen with a peculiar-looking beverage. The liquid was a strange color, and fragments of leaves swirled on its surface. Mother, an elderly woman with streaks of white in her ginger hair, sat propped up on a straw mattress laid directly on the floor. Lines etched around her eyes, forehead, and the corners of her mouth became more pronounced with each violent cough. Her chest heaved, her shoulders trembled, and her face flushed from the sheer force of the coughing fits. When a coughing spell finally subsided, she slumped back, utterly drained, her chest rising and falling raggedly as she struggled for breath.

"Mother," Rose called again, dropping to her knees beside the bed. "'Ere’s some water." Her mother weakly shook her head, but Rose persisted. "Please, Mother, you must drink this. It will help with your coughs. The physician instructed me to give it to you every time you cough."

Her mother took a tentative sip and nearly recoiled, pushing the cup away. "That's not water," she rasped.

"I know, Mother, but if I told you what it was, you wouldn't drink it. You must finish it."

Silence hung heavy in the air.

"Please," Rose added softly.

Her mother closed her eyes, a slow nod of assent following. Rose's face lit up with relief, and she carefully brought the cup back to her mother's lips. She drank the contents, then pushed the cup away once more, lying back, still breathless.

"You did very well, Mother," Rose praised.

"Don't treat me like a child, Rose."

Rose smirked. "Truth be told, you are. I've been taking care of you all this time." As she spoke, she gently pulled the coverings higher around her mother.

"I birthed you. Don't you dare call me a little thing."

Rose let out a laugh. "Aye, aye, Mother. You're not a child, so you can stay here alone while I fetch water from the well at the town's entrance."

"What's wrong with the well in Emma's compound?"

"Muddy," Rose explained. "Everyone's using it since most of the wells have run dry."

"But it's not dinnertime yet," her mother pointed out.

"Aye, but if I go now, I can get the clean water before it becomes muddy. Don't worry, Father will be home soon, and I'll ask Emma to keep an ear out."

Her mother scoffed. "Who's worried?"

Rose smiled, leaned down, and planted a kiss on her mother's forehead. "I'll be back soon."

"Shoo," her mother urged as Rose lingered by the doorway.

Chuckling, Rose left the room and headed toward the kitchen. Their home was a small cottage with just two rooms. Hers was at the back, doubling as a storage area, and it was the most cramped. Her parents occupied the main room, which served as their living area, kitchen, and dining space. A front and back door provided entry, though Rose seldom used the front. Her activities were mostly confined to the rear of the cottage, and since she could exit from her room, the front door was almost of no use to her.

Rose grasped two buckets, one in each hand. "Mother," she called out as she stepped outside. "I will be right back." Receiving no response, Rose smiled but continued on her way.

Suddenly, Rose stopped short, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. She blinked, questioning her vision, but it was no illusion. Royal guards were stationed around the well. Their distinctive attire confirmed their identity. Should she proceed closer? Unfortunately, the water was essential. Her mother was unwell, and she couldn't risk using muddy water for her meals.

Swallowing nervously, she moved closer. They had already registered her presence. Some guards congregated under a large tree near the well, while others were dispersed nearby. Rose noticed one man seated on the ground, his head covered with a cloth, his hand supporting it – a detail she quickly averted her gaze from, knowing better than to stare.

Horses grazed nearby, and a few soldiers were dousing themselves with water. Rose understood; the recent heat had been unbearable, leading to the rapid drying of wells, especially since Edenville lacked any rivers.

"Who are they?" Rose murmured to herself. Now only fifteen paces away, her presence was noted by everyone, even the horses lifting their heads from their grazing to look at her.

A few men advanced, their menacing auras palpable, causing Rose to drop to her knees and kowtow on the grass. She remained in that submissive posture, awaiting permission before fetching water.

"Your Grace," a voice interrupted Caius's brief slumber.

"What is it, Prince Rylen?" he inquired, his voice laced with clear annoyance.

"A peasant girl wishes to fetch some water."

"Huh?" Caius tossed the damp cloth from his face. "You disturbed my nap for that?" A sneer twisted his lips.

"Well, she's not moving any closer," Rylen replied.