As he spoke, the memories of his mother seemed to surround him, and I could see in his eyes the deep love and respect he held for her.
I listened, feeling a connection to Draven that went beyond a physical attraction. Tears welled in my eyes hearing him talk about his mother as I drew connections to my own.
I blinked before the tears ran down my cheeks. “It smells really good,” I told him.
“It is ready.” Draven motioned for me to move to the dimly lit dining room.
“Please, have a seat,” he said. I sat as he put the beautifully plated meal on the table and sat down next to me. “Dinner is served.” He locked eyes with me.
I felt a rush of warmth as I took in the meal. I looked at his plate and noticed his serving was distinctly smaller than mine.
“Are you not eating much?” I inquired.
Draven took a sip of his drink; the candlelight cast a soft glow on his face. “I should be eating nothing. I must fast for my research.”
I took a bite of food; it tasted amazing and melted in my mouth. Once again, I was eating while Draven watched me.
“Can you tell me about the research you are doing?”
“I am working with a doctor on a private project. I assist him in his various experiments,” Draven said, skewering a potato with his fork.
“Experiments?” I took a sip of the port. “Is it dangerous?”
His gaze was intense. “For me, it can be dangerous at times. Though, it is worth it.”
“Could you share more about it?”
“Perhaps another night, Rosalia,” Draven replied. “I would rather not delve into such matters now; it is stressfulfor me.” He changed the subject. “What are your plans tomorrow?”
“I was going to ask Imalda if I could go into town with her for supplies for the garden. Some seeds, probably.”
“Take care whom you converse with in town.”
“Why?” I was puzzled by his caution. I grew up in Elmcross and knew almost everybody.
“I would advise against revealing to them that you are staying with me.”
“Why should that matter?” I questioned further.
“Because you are not yet married,” he explained, his voice low. “Such information would surely stir gossip, and you would not wish for them to think ... ill of your reputation, or to believe you are a whore.”
I was taken aback by Draven’s bluntness. “Pardon me?”
Draven’s eyes bore into mine. “Rosalia, you must understand, appearances hold great weight in Elmcross. An unmarried woman residing with an unmarried man is a situation ripe for rumour. Gossip spreads with alarming speed, and I would sooner shield you from such unwarranted scrutiny.”
I felt foolish in my naivety about the town’s gossip. Maybe Draven was right in my keeping my mouth shut. There were bound to be rumours in town about my mother’s death and my disappearance.
I continued to eat my meal in silence, pondering his words. I fiddled with the pendant of my necklace, moving it back and forth on the chain.
Draven’s eyes flickered down to the necklace, then he leaned forward slightly. “May I ask, Rosalia, where did you come by that necklace?”
“It belonged to my mother,” I replied softly. “She gave it to me when I was young. And my father gave it to her before I was born.”
Draven’s eyes softened. “A cherished memento,” he said quietly. “It suits you.”
After supper, Draven suggested that he walk me back to my room. We strolled the dimly lit hallways, and he broached a different topic. “Rosalia, it has been some time since you arrived here at Thornwood. Are you settling in well?”
“Yes, your hospitality has felt welcoming,” I told him.
