Rosalind arrived at her chamber with her footman guiding her toward the bed, and the moment she sat down, she was still shaken by how her life had flashed before her eyes.
She had come dangerously close to being burned alive, and if not for the man before her, she did not even want to imagine how it would have ended. Swallowing hard, she slowly lifted her gaze to meet his, her thoughts circling around the same question she could not seem to silence...why had he risked himself for her without hesitation?
"Are you alright, my lady?" Rowan asked.
Rosalind loosened the cloak around her shoulders and gave a small nod, though her fingers still trembled slightly. "I'm alright," she answered quietly, before her gaze lifted fully to him. "But what about you? Are you hurt?"
The image of him gripping the burning fabric with his bare hands replayed in her mind again, and no matter how she looked at him now, she could not accept that he had escaped unscathed.
