Rosie's Games

In the depths of her heart, Rosalind had spent countless moments envisioning the wedding of her dreams. After enduring trials and tribulations, this second chance at life was a cherished gift, and she refused to squander it on impressing people she held no affection for. Determined to create a day that symbolized their unique bond, Rosalind longed for a wedding that echoed their shared simplicity.

And yet, as she stood in awe before the resplendent Throne room, adorned with delicate floral arrangements, Rosalind found it hard to believe that her vision had materialized. Lucas, her now husband, had assured her that it would be a modest affair, a mere formality to legitimize her position as the official duchess.

He had promised another celebration would take place in due time. However the opulence of the room and the exquisite white dress made by Madam Monoroe specifically for her felt far from simple.

With a mix of confusion and disbelief, Rosalind walked down the aisle, her mind struggling to process the whirlwind of emotions.

As the ceremony concluded, Rosalind found herself alone in their room, her eyes fixated on the vacant side of the bed. The excitement and anticipation that had accompanied the wedding now gave way to a profound sense of solitude. She couldn't help but question her conflicting emotions. Was she supposed to feel joy for having the wedding she desired, or sorrow for being alone on her wedding night?

The room now echoed with a deafening silence that amplified her confusion. Rosalind grappled with conflicting thoughts, unsure of what she had expected or hoped for. The reality of her situation clashed with the romanticized image she had painted in her mind. She had yearned for simplicity, yet found herself entangled in a web of elaborate arrangements. She had longed for the love and companionship of Lucas, only to have him depart on this very night.

Torn between laughter and tears, Rosalind shook her head.

In the midst of her confusion, Rosalind took a deep breath, summoning strength from within. She reminded herself of the purpose behind their union. This was nothing but a marriage of convenience.

Still, she could not help the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to engulf her. The wedding had come and gone, leaving her with a mosaic of conflicting sentiments. She had fallen for him. Worse was… she did not even know when it all started.

...…..

"Must you wed the poor woman and leave on your wedding night?" Belisarius's words echoed inside the room where Duke Lucas was sitting. "Who would want to be alone on their wedding night?"

The room fell into a heavy silence as the weight of their words hung in the air. Duke Lucas's frustration simmered beneath his controlled demeanor, while Belisarius, the white-haired man, relished in his ability to provoke his friend's emotions.

"Must you always meddle in my affairs?" Lucas spat out, his voice laced with annoyance, as he locked eyes with Belisarius. The fire within him burned fiercely, ready to consume any obstacle in its path. "If you have nothing helpful to contribute, then leave me be."

Belisarius chuckled, his laughter echoing throughout the room like a haunting melody. He sauntered over to the bar, casually pouring himself a glass of wine before settling himself across from Lucas. His piercing gaze held a mischievous glint as if he delighted in stirring the pot of Lucas's emotions.

"Leave you alone to reunite with your bride? Ah, how I wish it were that simple," Belisarius retorted, taking a sip from his wineglass. "But you see, your beloved Rosalind is on the precipice of awakening. Should the dormant goddess inside her awaken fully, her very soul will be overshadowed, consumed, and she will perish."

Lucas's glare intensified, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The words stung like a bitter truth he had long tried to deny. The memories that Rosalind was beginning to recollect, the fragments of her past life, were a double-edged sword. They held the potential to not only restore her lost identity but also to unleash a torrent of emotions and pain she had once experienced.

Lucas had hoped that by bringing Rosalind to the secluded caves, she would have the opportunity to strengthen her body and prepare for the battles ahead. It was a desperate plan, born out of his love for her and the need to keep her safe. But his carefully laid plans were shattered by the intervention of an evil sorceress, hell-bent on breaking through the protective barriers he had erected to 'rescue' the 'goddess'.

In truth, Lucas didn't truly care about those barriers. Their purpose was merely a means to an end—a way to buy them time, a fleeting moment of respite before their inevitable escape. Once the barriers fell, Lucas could whisk Rosalind away to a different dimension, far removed from the chaos and treachery of the human world. In that realm, they could build a new life together, free from the shackles of their past and the looming threat of the seven families.

The consequences of their escape were of little concern to Lucas. Let the demons tear the humans apart, let chaos reign—it mattered not to him.

His sole focus was Rosalind's safety and well-being, her happiness above all else. The rest of the world could crumble around them, and he would watch at the sidelines with Rosalind in his arms.

Yet, as Lucas gazed upon Rosalind, her cries of pain piercing his soul, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces. The flood of memories long suppressed and now unleashed, ravaged her mind and brought her to her knees. The anguish etched on her face tore at Lucas's very core.

In a desperate attempt to shield her from the torment, he made the agonizing decision to close the barriers once more. It was a choice that only made him want to kill the humans once and for all. Closing the barrier would not only keep the demons away.

It meant postponing their escape from this place, prolonging their stay in this wretched world.

However, this is not the only thing that frightened him. Rosalind's body was too feeble right now. She would not be able to win against the soul inside her body. Not only would she lose in this battle, her body might even be destroyed.

"It was you who urged me to stay away from her," Lucas growled, his voice a low rumble.

"The path ahead is treacherous," Belisarius spoke. "The delicate balance between her reawakening and her well-being hangs precariously in the balance. Your presence, Lucas, as much as it brings her comfort, also holds the potential to unravel her newfound peace and inflict unbearable pain."

Lucas said nothing as he listened intently

"We must unravel the mystery of how this foreign soul came to reside within her," Belisarius continued. "Only then can we truly comprehend the depths of her connection to it, and develop a plan that ensures her safety and well-being."

Lucas clenched his jaw, the weight of responsibility settling heavily upon his broad shoulders. Today was meant to be their wedding day, a day of celebration and union. But now, it felt like a bittersweet reminder of the sacrifices they had to make.

Who would willingly choose to spend their wedding night alone? Not Lucas—definitely not him. His heart ached at the thought of being separated from Rosalind, of the emptiness that would engulf him in her absence. But the forces at play, the machinations of the seven families, had left him with no choice.

The wedding had become their last resort, a desperate gamble to grant Rosalind the authority and power she needed to challenge the plans of the influential families. It was a calculated move, forcing Lucas to watch from the sidelines while she took center stage.

"Where are you going?" Belisarius called out, his tone laced with concern, as Lucas abruptly rose from his seat. But Lucas remained silent, his eyes filled with an intensity that sent chills down Belisarius's spine. Without uttering another word, Lucas vanished into thin air, leaving behind a sense of foreboding in his wake.

Fear gripped Belisarius's heart as he scrambled to follow Lucas's trail, his mind racing with questions.

As Belisarius materialized in a snow-covered landscape, he found Lucas standing there, his face concealed, an aura of darkness emanating from his very being. It was a scene that filled Belisarius with a sense of unease, for he knew all too well what would unfold before his eyes.

The tranquility of the snow was soon shattered by the sound of Lucas's fury, as he launched himself into a relentless assault against the nearby beasts. The clash of steel and the sickening splatter of blood tainted the pristine whiteness of the snow, suffusing the air with a haunting and macabre aura.

Belisarius sighed, his heart heavy with resignation, as he watched his friend unleash his wrath upon their enemies. This was not the first time he had witnessed such a sight, nor would it be the last. Lucas's inner demons, both literal and metaphorical, threatened to consume him, pushing him to the edge of reason and sanity.

Taking a few steps back, Belisarius found solace against the sturdy embrace of a nearby tree. He crossed his arms, his eyes fixed upon the gruesome scene unfolding before him, his heart filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. There was little he could do but bear witness to Lucas's primal rage, a storm of violence and anguish that gripped him time and time again.

Silence enveloped the snowy landscape, broken only by the echoes of battle and the heavy thud of fallen bodies of various beasts. Belisarius remained rooted to his spot, a silent observer amidst the chaos.