I Reborn to Save Her, She Loved Him

Chapter 4

"It's not what you think! You've got the wrong idea!" Alistair immediately pulled away from Beatrice's support, hurrying to explain, his voice tight with panic. "I twisted my ankle by accident. Scholar Beatrice just happened to pass by and was kind enough to give me a hand."

Rowena's gaze fixed on his left ankle, which was clearly swollen and barely able to bear any weight.

Beatrice spoke up just in time to defuse the situation. "I was only worried the Ninth Prince would have trouble walking with his injury, so I took the liberty of stepping forward to help. I hope the Princess Consort won't misunderstand."

When Rowena's face stayed cold and distant, a sharp twinge of hurt bubbled up in Alistair's chest.

Gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain in his ankle, he tried to step toward her. But before he could even shift his weight, he was suddenly lifted off the ground.

Rowena had hoisted him easily into a one-armed carry, striding straight toward the warhorse waiting by the roadside.

Caught completely off guard, Alistair went rigid in her arms.

Every passing noble and servant on the street froze in their tracks, all eyes locking onto the pair of them.

Rowena turned her head to Beatrice, her tone completely flat and unemotional. "Thank you for your help, Scholar Beatrice. I'll take the Ninth Prince back to the castle first. I'll come to thank you in person another day."

Once they returned to the prince's castle, the servants immediately sent for the court apothecary to prepare a remedy for his injury.

The apothecary handed a jar of herbal ointment to the maid, advising carefully. "This bruise salve needs to be warmed up by rubbing it between your palms first, then massaged gently into the prince's injured ankle."

"Understood." The maid reached out to take the jar.

But Rowena moved faster, plucking the ointment straight from the apothecary's hand.

"I'll handle this."

After the servants saw the apothecary out, the two of them were left alone in the room.

Rowena knelt down on one knee in front of Alistair, rubbing the ointment between her palms to warm it up before gently wrapping her hands around his swollen left ankle.

Her warm fingers kneaded and pressed the area little by little. As the chill faded from his ankle, a steady, warm heat spread up to Alistair's chest too.

"For the next few days, the Ninth Prince will stay put in the castle to rest. No more going out for no reason," Rowena said in a low voice.

Alistair could hear the quiet concern laced in her matter-of-fact words.

He looked up at her with bright, shining eyes and asked softly, "Then can you come home early every day to stay with me?"

Rowena's massaging movements paused for a beat. She didn't say anything for a long time.

The light in Alistair's eyes dimmed little by little. Just when he thought she was going to turn him down flat, she answered in a soft, low voice, "Okay."

Alistair couldn't hold back a grin, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a soft, happy smile.

Rowena quietly watched his smile. It was the first time she'd noticed the faint dimples tucked into either side of his cheeks, and a strange tingle curled through her chest. She even caught herself wanting to reach out and poke one, though she knew that would be outrageously inappropriate by noble etiquette standards.

That night, Rowena pulled out the thin blanket and bedding she usually laid out on the floor.

Alistair called out to stop her, "Don't bother laying that out on the floor anymore."

The words made Rowena freeze mid-motion. She lifted her eyes to size him up, one eyebrow quirked slightly, "Your Highness is still having trouble moving around these days. It's better not to. I'm afraid I'll roll over in my sleep and accidentally bump or hurt you."

Alistair caught her unspoken concern immediately, and his cheeks burned hot in an instant.

"That's not what I meant! I'm saying you don't have to sleep on the floor from now on. You can just sleep in the bed. It's not like we can only share a bed when we're being intimate!"

Rowena's face flashed with surprise, but she still didn't move an inch.

"Your Highness doesn't mind that I'm covered in dust and sweat and will dirty your big fancy bed? You're not worried my rough clothes will snag your expensive velvet bedding?"

Every single one of those lines was the exact same arguments Alistair had thrown at her self-righteously back when he'd ordered her to sleep on the floor.

Alistair shook his head quickly, almost frantically. "All that stuff I said before was just stupid garbage I spat out when I was being petty. Don't take it to heart. You're my wife. Noble couples are supposed to share a bed, that's just how it is."

After he finished speaking, Rowena fixed her gaze on his face, silently trying to work out if he was telling the truth.

After a beat, she finally set down the bedding in her hands and climbed into the large bed to rest.

Even though she kept her back turned to him the entire time after getting in bed, Alistair's chest still felt light and fizzy with joy, giddiness bubbling up from every corner of his heart.

For the next several days, Rowena returned to the castle early to keep him company. Whenever Alistair wanted to walk through the grounds, no matter how far, she stayed by his side and supported him every step of the way.

Spending days like this with her made Alistair almost fall for the illusion that they could actually live a quiet, happy life together from here on out.

The day his ankle was fully healed just so happened to be Rowena's birthday.

In his past life, Alistair had never bothered to remember her birthday. He'd only found out by accident after she'd died in battle, when they were putting up the memorial stone in her honor.

Since he had the chance to do things all over again, he was dead set on putting together a proper birthday feast for her.

That day, Alistair bustled around the castle the whole day, buzzing with excitement as he waited for Rowena to come home, ready to surprise her.

But he waited from dusk well into the dead of night, and Rowena, who was always home right on time, still hadn't shown up.

Before long, a servant hurried in with a message, "The Princess Consort asked me to tell Your Highness that she has personal matters to attend to today and will be back very late. There's no need for you to wait for her, Your Highness; you should rest early."

Disappointment gnawed at Alistair, but he refused to throw in the towel just yet. He packed up a few servings of Rowena's favorite delicate dishes, grabbed the silver food box, and set off alone for the knight training grounds to find her.

From a distance, he spotted two figures standing in the shade of the trees by the riverbank.

"I'll go over by myself." Alistair took the food box from the maid's hand and walked forward, brimming with anticipation.

Every last spark of joy in his chest fizzled out the second he spotted the man at her side: Cedric.

The two people under the tree hadn't noticed Alistair approaching at all.

Cedric pulled out a silver medallion pendant carved with intricate patterns and handed it to Rowena.

"Rowena, happy birthday."

"You're the only person who's remembered my birthday all these years." Rowena's tone was soft and tender, a softness Alistair had never heard from her before.

It felt like a sledgehammer had slammed straight into Alistair's chest. A suffocating, stinging bitterness flooded every inch of his body.

Next, he heard Cedric sigh softly, "Rowena, if my father hadn't been convicted by the king all those years ago, and if you hadn't been forced into that marriage contract with the Ninth Prince, we would have honored the engagement we made as children. By now, we might even have children of our own."

Those words hit Alistair like a bolt of lightning. He froze dead in his tracks, every muscle in his body locking up.