Mada Oliver was still speaking loudly, berating and accusing Rose of what she didn’t do. She was usually soft-spoken, but right now her voice could be heard almost a block away.
Rose watched a flake of snow float around. As she watched it, Mada Oliver’s voice drowned out and she could barely hear the words. The snowflake seed to fall more slowly than the others, dropping gently until finally it joined with the pile of snow on the ground.
As soon as the snow touched the ground, Rose felt sothing snap and without thinking about it she reached for the door handle and pushed the door open.
Rose walked through the open door and slamd it hard enough to hit Mada Oliver’s face if she had been any closer. The loud sound of the door closing didn’t muffle the sound of Mada Oliver’s shocked gasp.
Rose wished she could have seen her expression. She shook her head. She had wheat pottage to worry about and herbs to give her mother. She didn’t care that Ander was dismissed from the baron’s mansion—in fact, she might be a tad happy.
Maybe it was cruel of her, but she had her dying, sick mother to worry about all alone. Ander could easily get another job, as his mother said, whereas her parents were all she had. Her best friend and forr fiancé was not sothing she could easily replace.
Besides, it was hard for her to feel sympathy when Mada Oliver had stood and loudly called her a harlot. It was hard not to think that Ander felt the sa way. Why else would he get married so quickly?
"Ye were outside for long," her mother comnted.
Rose smiled lightly. She was grateful for her mother’s question. She didn’t have the ti to dwell on things she couldn’t change. She was still smiling as she walked towards them.
"Sorry," Rose apologized over the sound of Mada Oliver still ranting at the closed door. Her parents most definitely heard the whole thing.
Rose was glad her father didn’t step out, but with how silent he was and the clenched fists he tried to hide, she was certain her mother was the one who stopped him.
"Yer pottage is getting cold," he said curtly.
"Yes, it is," Rose said and lifted the bowl. She sat on the bench and dropped the bowl on her legs, welcoming the warmth from underneath it.
The corners of her eyes suddenly felt heavy as she scooped so gruel to eat, but Rose couldn’t cry. She had to be strong for her parents. They would only bla themselves more if she did.
Rose took the spoonful into her mouth and groaned. It was delicious. It wasn’t close to the castle als, but it was better than what they used to eat.
Rose ate over Mada Oliver’s yelling, and while she spoke, her parents acted as though they heard nothing. Rose preferred this—if she knew anything about rumors, she knew trying to say her side of the story would only make them worse. It was best to ignore them.
Mada Oliver seed to run out of energy, and after so ti Rose couldn’t hear her voice anymore while she ate.
The whole exchange felt a little surreal. She wondered if Ander also thought she wanted him to lose his job. Rose forced herself to concentrate on her al. It didn’t matter what she thought. It was pretty clear Ander’s family—and most likely the rest of the town—had the sa opinion about her.
"Rosie," her father called as she was distracted by her thoughts. She fiddled with her food, barely eating.
"Yes, Father," Rose said sweetly, a contrast to the twirling emotions in her chest.
"Are ye alrig’t?" her father asked. His face was full of concern and his voice heavy as he asked.
"Aye," Rose replied, smiling genuinely as she resud eating.
After her al, she helped her mother prepare her herbs and assisted her while she drank. There wasn’t much change with her mother, but it was noticeable that she had a slight increase in energy and seed less in pain. It had only been a day, but there was no doubt that Lord Paul’s redy had an effect.
Rose glanced at her father as she pulled the bowl away from her mother’s lips, and she saw his exhaustion. But as soon as he saw she was looking at him, his expression changed and he gave her a simple smile.
Rose stepped away. "Are ye ready to go to bed, Mot’er?"
"Not quite," her mother said, too eagerly.
Rose and her father laughed. "You should rest so more. You have been awake since the morning."
"I sleep all tha ti, Rosie. Let stay awake now."
Rose nodded. "As ye wish, Mot’er," she smiled and picked up the dirty dishes. "I will go clean this up," she said and started towards the back door.
As soon as Rose was out of earshot, her father started to speak. "I oug’t to ’ave stopped ’er!"
"Mada Oliver?" his wife asked as she leaned her back against the wall.
"Aye. Spewin’ nonsense!" Vallyn said as his nose flared in anger. It was clear he had held himself back.
His wife gently stretched out her hand to him, and he pulled the bench closer so he could easily reach her. She lightly ran her fingers through his light brown hair—like hers, it was also filled with a lot of grey hairs.
Vallyn rested his head on his wife’s legs, neither of them saying anything. They just held each other.
When Rose returned a few monts later, her mother raised a finger to her lips to tell Rose to be quiet. Her father was fast asleep on her mother’s legs, his heavy breathing could be heard from the door.
Rose nodded while giggling as she made her way in. She was smiling ear to ear as she walked towards the fireplace where her bed lay on the ground. She was happy, seeing her parents like this brought her the biggest joy.
"Goodnight, Mot’er," Rose called. It was still a little early to sleep yet, but there was no point staying awake when all she would have to deal with were bad thoughts.
"Goodnig’t, Rosie," her mother whispered, not wanting to wake her father.
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