His Golden Rose

A man dressed in tight breeches, knee-high boots, and an expensive-looking jerkin strolled into the barn.

The man instantly froze with his nose scrunched up with disgust as the unholy stench of manure almost knocked his boots off.

No wonder he’d gotten rid of the previous caretaker—even a pigsty would’ve been better than this.

At least the new guy had managed to get rid of the filthy straw that was scattered almost everywhere. It seemed to reduce the stench, but the man couldn’t tell for sure. The place needed a lot more work.

There were days the entire stable needed digging out and replacing with fresh bedding, which the man noticed the new caretaker had been excellent at.

He looked around, for at midday the horses were already washed, their water had been replaced, and their hay had been replenished.

Then where in the hell is that stench coming from?

Perhaps it would take more weeks if not months for it to fully disappear.

The man continued on his way as his eyes scanned for one man in particular.

Ah, there he is! his inner voice exclaimed when his eyes spotted the caretaker walking out from the furthest stall on his left.

Sudden footsteps caused Max to jerk his head. He spotted his master approaching in all his glory. Max immediately faced the floor, dismissed the door, and bowed to show his respects. “My lord.”

The master never visited the stables, at least not when Max was around. It’s a good thing Max was done with cleaning much earlier that day.

Perhaps Max could find a way to slip out after the master left and hurriedly come back before anyone noticed.

“I’m highly impressed with what a single hard-working man can do in such a big barn,” the master praised.

Max bowed again.

David Fürstenberg, the first son and heir to his father. Who would’ve thought he has a kind side toward his workers, especially to a worker as lowly as me? he thought.~

David was a tall, pale man with warm brown eyes and straight jet-black hair. He and Max were in the same age group, not more than eight and twenty, and the master was quite a handsome chap.

“As a reward for your exceptional work, I’ll double your salary starting this month,” David informed him.

Max’s jaw almost hit the floor and his eyes widened as he glanced up and bowed again. “You’re so kind, My lord!”

David nodded and slowly continued to scan the barn. “Is there anything left to be done for the day?”

“No, My lord.”

“You can go. Be sure to check in early tomorrow.”

Now, that’s some excellent news!

He nodded, and with that, the rich master turned and padded out with a bouncing thought in his head.

Where have I seen that man before?

***

Rosamund remained quietly seated on the grass with her face resting on her knees, thanks to her folded legs that she hugged.

She stared at the glittering water a few paces before her. It had been a while since Anne had left, and she’d been brainstorming ever since, trying to fathom where she’d gone wrong.

A hand suddenly crept onto her shoulder, causing a loud shriek to escape her lips as she moved away. Rosamund tried hard to stand, though she could already feel her legs weak from the jitters.

She finally stood and hurriedly turned around. Her hand clutched the left side of her heaving chest as she tried to calm her hammering heart.

Her eyes immediately zeroed in on a wheezing Max, who was barely holding his balance from laughing so hard. She scowled, and he could almost see smoke coming out of her ears.

“Oh, man!” He laughed, causing her to stomp forward and push him so hard that he fell butt first onto the grass.

He immediately recovered and looked up at her with wide eyes. She stood with both hands on her hips and a blank stare on her pretty face.

“You’re going to pay for this!” he grumbled playfully as he rose to his feet, causing the now smiling Rosamund to twirl and start running for her life while Max chased her. They both laughed.

A couple of minutes later, the pair collapsed on the grass, both panting hard from the exercise. They had matching smiles on their flushed faces. Max noticed Rosamund’s bleary eyes and he couldn’t help but ask.

“Is something bothering you? Why were you crying?”

She blinked a few times before tearing her gaze from his. “It’s nothing. How are you here at this time of the day?”

“Rosamund!” he warned.

Silence.

He reached for her hand, took it into his, and clasped it. “Please, talk to me.”

“Really.”

His unimpressed stare caused her words to hitch in her throat.

She sighed. “It’s my sister.”

“What about her?”

“It’s complicated,” she whispered as she dropped her gaze to their entwined hands.

“Try me,” he pressed.

“Well.” She briefly paused. “Life hasn’t always been like this. Our father used to be a successful merchant in days past.

“He met my mother, and they fell in love and instantly married. They had me shortly after that, and life was okay. We were happy…”

Max nodded as he patted her hand.

“When I was twelve, Mom broke the news to me. I was going to have a sibling.”

She giggled but something else caught Max’s notice. He saw a tear dripping onto her skirt. He shook his head and ceased patting her hand.

Max lifted his hand up to her chin, slowly tilting her face up so that he could see how deeply the subject cut her.

Red, brimming eyes greeted him. They swirled with loss and pain that twisted his heart in the most painful way imaginable.

He had never seen her behave like that before, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like seeing her sad nor crying.

He gently released her chin, reached for the tears that rolled down her cheek, and wiped them away. “Let’s not talk about it if it makes you this sad.”

She shook her head while removing herself from his hands.

“You’ve got no idea how much I want to get this off my chest.” She sniffled, her hands grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling it up to dry her face. “I miss her so much.”

He nodded.

“So,” she started with a stronger voice. “You can imagine how excited I was. I couldn’t shut up about it. I bragged about it to my friends, and I discussed it with my father, who was silently hoping it was a boy.

“I didn’t care, all I wanted was the baby to arrive. I look like my mother—actually, I’m my maternal grandmother’s spitting image, that’s what my mother used to tell me. That’s where I got my hair from.

“Well, since my father has dark hair, we thought my brother would take more of our father’s features. Oh, my father was so excited. Everyone was,” she narrated with a distant look.

Something told Max that was a peak, and the fall had been hard.

“Everything was going swiftly before the day arrived, the day we had all been waiting for. But it wasn’t as we all expected.

“She had a difficult labor that took hours, nearly a day, and Dad was at her side all that time.

“The physicians, my father, everyone tried their best to save them both—but, in the end, life had only one spot, and death was knocking at the door.

“I could hear my father screaming that they should save my mother, but it turned out my mother had a different wish.” She paused as she wiped her silent tears away.

“I’m sorry,” Max murmured.

She nodded. “Shock, intense grief, and rage were all my father knew. He was heartbroken and so lost. You can guess what happened next.”

“He let go,” Max guessed.

“Of everything. He drowned himself in—” She sighed. “He was always drunk, drunk and crying. He forgot that he was a father, and that he was our provider.

“He forgot that we needed him. Nothing else mattered to him. The pain was so much that he wanted to forget.

“And for the baby? He despised her. He blamed her for our mother’s death. He saw her as a curse that he had to get rid of.

“Of course, I stood in his way. Mother had loved her, and that’s why she gave her life for her. I wouldn’t let my intoxicated father do something he’d possibly regret later.”

She turned to face him. “Maximilian, I assure you, my father isn’t a bad person. He’s just lost. He might be hostile to her, but that’s not him. I know him.”

Max nodded as his hands sought hers again. “I trust your judgment more than I ever trusted mine.”

A small smile crept onto her face. “I took the responsibility of raising her, since our father wasn’t there anymore.

“I named her after my mother—Anne—and did all I could to shield her from our father’s raging episodes every time he landed his eyes on her.

“A few months later, we left Ulm and relocated here after our dad lost everything he had spent years working hard for.

“It wasn’t easy for me. I wasn’t used to such a life, and I had Anne to look after. I almost gave up…”

Rosamund tried to blink back her tears as she tore her gaze from him. The memory of herself at thirteen years old trying to drown herself in the well came back full force.

Max could see the pink hue on her face. He hurriedly reached for her chin and turned her back to face him.

“You don’t need to feel embarrassed. Everyone has their darkest moments. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished so far.”

“She doesn’t see it. Anne’s terrified of our father. If I leave one day, what would become of her? That’s her greatest fear,” she explained.

“But you’ll never leave them.”

She swallowed, not knowing how to take his words. Didn’t he have any plans with her? She sighed. “She wishes that I would marry for advantage.”

His eyes widened. He slowly withdrew his hands and stared into space.

He finally understood everything. If she married someone like him, she’d have no choice but to move out.

He couldn’t support the entire family—where would they live, anyway? And how about their own family?

But if she married a wealthy man, things would be absolutely different. Rosamund wouldn’t part from her sister, and she’d have a chance to live the life she deserved.

She deserved it. She had been supporting three people for years! He thought she’d eventually tire, since she’s only human.

“I see,” Max said.

“To be honest, I don’t believe in that. I’d rather die poor in the hands of a person I truly admire than live in comfort but unhappy next to someone I don’t like,” she confessed.

Something deep within Max flipped. He felt warmth radiate all over his body, and a smile threatened to appear on his face. But he swallowed his pleasure down. “Does she know?”

She nodded. “That’s why she’s angry. She thinks I’m selfish. That I only care for myself.”

He scoffed, shaking his head at the foolish comment. “How old is she, again?”

“Eight.”

“She’s still a child. She sees things in a different light. When she grows up, she’ll understand. But…”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes?”

“In a way, she’s right, in terms of meaning well. She wants a good life for all of you, not only for herself. She’s not blind—she sees your struggle. It’s not bad to wish well for your sister,” he explained.

“What do you mean?” she asked coldly.

When Max whipped his head to face her, he met her hard glare.

“No, it’s not what you think,” he defended.

She stood up and made to start toward her clothes when his hand gripped hers and pulled her back, landing her straight against his hard body.

His hands immediately enveloped her from behind whilst he leaned in and buried his face in her neck, taking in the scent of her stunning hair and her delicate neck.

Goose bumps erupted all over her body as she fought back a pleasurable shiver that crept down her spine. Right there, she felt safe. She felt like she belonged.

“I only wish the best for you. As much as I wish I were that man, I can’t provide you what you truly deserve,” he confessed.

Her lips parted at his proclamation. He truly did admire her, but he was holding back.

Why would he think wealth mattered to her? They’d find a way! If they both put their minds and effort into it, they’d make it work. Why didn’t he trust himself?

“I’m not blind, Maximilian. I knew you were poor from the very first day we met. I’ve been to your home, and I know where you work. I know what you do. When you come to me, smelling like those horses you take care of, do I ever turn you away?”

“Rosamund…”

She shook her head and turned to meet his gaze. “I don’t care if Anne will hate me. I have dedicated my life to raising her. If that makes me selfish, then I accept that. But no one can tell me who to love, and who to marry.

“I don’t care if you only have one good eye—that doesn’t make you any less appealing in my eyes.

“I don’t care if you’re rock-bottom poor”—she lifted her hand up to his sturdy chest—“because you can give me something far more special that the richest of men can never be able to offer, regardless of their wealth.”

She paused as she watched his glassy eyes. “Wealth is acquired. It’s something that comes and goes, but love stays,” she proclaimed.

He had never been so sure. He had never admired a woman that much in his life. He had never felt so damn blessed before.

Everything he’d gone through felt worth it. If he had never been sure in the past, he was sure then—she was the woman for him. His hands sought hers, brought them up to his lips, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on them.

He briefly stared at her rough yet lovely hands: the hands of a hard worker, the hands of a carer, a person who’d stick with him through thick and thin because she believed in him and loved him.

He lowered their hands and looked up to find her breathtaking, glimmering eyes staring back. Her eyes contained so many emotions that didn’t need to be spoken out loud for him to comprehend.

He understood and wholeheartedly believed her.

And with that last fulfilling thought, he leaned in as his lips sought hers for their first of ever so many passionate kisses.