Chapter 3
Chapter Three
I own you.
The words from Ashton’s letter blurred as Rosalind struggled to breathe. No, he couldn’t do this to her. Shock paralyzed her body, her muscles tensing painfully.
The past came rushing up from the depths where she had buried it, swallowing her in its icy waters, unable to stop the memories as they enveloped her.
The cold castle corridors, wind whistling through the faded, tattered tapestries. The booming shout of an angry father.
“You think you can tell me what to do? You little wretch! I own you, and you aren’t worth the breath in your lungs!”
A cup of mead exploded against the wall where Rosalind, only sixteen, hid behind a half-opened door. The aching sorrow of her mother’s recent death hung in the halls like an invisible cloud. It had sent her f
