Chapter 44
The tea cups all sat forgotten on the table, their contents getting cold. Despite the warmth of the room, Rosetta couldn’t help but feel a smidge chilled as well.
She wondered if it would be better to tell them the full story of how she’d come about her uncle’s secret. She'd been helping her aunt with cleaning up the shop, something the woman did once or twice a week. In the middle of their work, an unfamiliar man entered through the front door. This wasn’t too unusual, as the occasional trader often came through town, among others scraping together a living on the roads out in the wastes. They were still peculiar enough to attract little Rose’s attention, however. She couldn't recall anything about their conversation or what was exchanged, but she remembered the man eyeing a particular cabinet in the shop, one of the few that had a lock on it—and one her aunt and uncle had explicitly told her and her siblings they weren't to mess with.
That hadn't stopped them, of course. One of Roses’s older brothers had gotten into the cabinets months before, letting her and the other siblings know they weren’t really worth bothering with. They were either empty or full of ‘useless’ things, according to him. Only one held several knives and things that the boy had actually found intriguing. But the fact that the strange man had eyed one, and a specific one, at that, sparked the young girl’s interest. They didn’t call Rosetta a spitfire for no reason. Later that evening, when she and her siblings were free to go out and play, she instead snuck back into the shop to follow her older brother’s example and pick through the lock on the cabinet. If her brother was going to teach her how to pick them, she might as well make use of the skill, right?
Young Rosie didn’t find the empty cabinet or case of knives she was expecting. Instead, the cabinet held a small chest full of shining gems and other items her young mind didn’t understand the value of. In her shock and heightening fear, the girl quickly shut the cabinet, reattached the lock, and flew out of the small smithy so quickly that her uncle thought someone was chasing her. She was lucky that her younger self hadn’t thought of snatching something inside. Rosetta couldn't begin to guess how much trouble it would have brought down.
When she bravely came back several days later, wanting to peek at the gems again, she found an empty cabinet. Then her uncle walked in and caught her fiddling with the lock as she was closing it. For weeks, the whole strange event stuck with her, along with her curiosity over why the gems were there and where they disappeared to. She took note of other strange men and women passing through the shop, and on one lucky night, survived the very nerve-racking experience of hiding behind a shelf to listen in. Little was said, but it was the last puzzle piece she needed to put together what was happening.
Finally, Luthar took a breath, and she hoped he'd come to a decision. “You put me in a difficult place, Rosie.”
The maid looked down. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”
He acknowledged her apology with a slight bob of his head. “I wouldn't normally relent to talk about this kind of thing in front of a noble, even a minor one in a bad spot. It doesn’t sit right with me.”
Rosetta gave him a nod back, not entirely sure what to say to that.
“But, you’re family, and even if this is exceptionally poor timing—the worst gods damned timing in all my years of life—for you, I’ll do what I have to.”
“So then…” her words trailed, the question not really needing to be said. Rosetta glanced over to Lena, who looked back and squeezed her side.
The man sighed, and Rose could swear that, for a moment, he looked quite a few years older than usual. “I haven’t done this sort of thing in a long time. Not for over a decade, in fact. Your little stunt with the cabinet was one of the reasons I got out of it, even. We realized that it was too dangerous with you little ones being around so much.” Glancing at his wife, he paused, and the woman gave him a nod.
“Who do I need to talk to?” Rosetta asked. Her determination was evident in her voice and reflected in her posture. She was ready.
Her uncle turned his head back to her and raised a brow. “You? No one. In fact, the less you have to do with all this, the better. I’ll be speaking with them.”
“I—but—” the maid objected.
He lifted a hand up and spoke over her. “Yes, I know, I know. You’re a capable woman and want to do this yourself. But on this one, I won’t be changing my mind.” His words were firm, insistent that there would be no argument. “There’s a Praevus in town. Not some sentinel captain or incompetent nobleman snooping around. A gods-damned Praevus. I’m not so old that I can’t guess at why he’s here. The man has spoken to nearly everyone in town at this point, including myself. If they’re here to hunt some Deadlands beast, as the man claims, then I’m emperor of the Haizar Empire. The two of you are going to be keeping your heads down and staying quiet. I’ll be the only one sticking my neck out. I shouldn’t need to say, but a man like him being here means heads are going to roll soon. Better that mine roll with them than either of yours’.” The look he gave them was one Rosetta was particularly familiar with. It was the look he gave on the rare occasions that he was deadly serious, a gaze that would have frozen her solid in her younger troublemaking years.
She wanted to argue. This wasn’t what she needed, what they were here for. It involved much more than her and Lena's plight, though Camilla had been insistent that they pretend otherwise. More than anything, they needed information—to speak with these smugglers and find out everything they could about the group and their capabilities.
“You can’t at least tell me who you’re going to speak to? Or just what they might can do to help us? Come on, Uncle Luthar.”
“No,” the man rebuffed her with a stony glare, and she knew that would be the end of it. Luthar could be exceedingly stubborn when he wanted to be. Nagging him further would only make the man double down even more.
She sighed. “So what am I supposed to do, then? Just wait for you to come talk to me? I’m a busy maid, Uncle, and the wedding is days away. I need something.” She gripped Lena's hand. “We need something.”
'Wait, wait, wait.' Rosetta was so tired of waiting. She needed to do something. She glanced over to her aunt, hoping that the woman might say something to smooth out her uncle’s sharp obstinance. Greta had a thoughtful look but was silent.
Instead, Luthar said, “You’re here for a sword, aren’t you? I assume you were serious about that.” He eyed Lena, who gave a firm nod. “We’ll figure out what size and style will suit you best, and then in a couple of days, you can both come back for it. I should have something for you by then.”
She thought about it, long and hard. But ultimately, no ideas came to her. Would two days be good enough? Would Camilla be willing to wait?
Seeing that it was the best she was likely to get from her uncle, Rosetta eventually agreed, and they proceeded to show Lena what swords the smith had on hand to find the best fit. A half-hour later, the three had come to a deal, with a significant ‘family discount’ at Rose’s insistence. After lots of hugs and listening to Aunt Greta’s standard insistence that she ‘not be a stranger,’ despite everything that was happening, the two left the couple and made their way back to the mansion.
The plan didn’t go entirely as intended, but Rosetta supposed it would have to do. Perhaps they would have more luck in a couple of days’ time. The maid thought back through the conversation, and couldn’t help but pause on her admittance to breaking into the cabinet.
Was it by pure luck that she’d noticed that man’s gaze and been inspired to look inside the cabinet that day, or was it possible that fate played some kind of role in all this? She remembers how easily the lock seemed to have come undone the first time she opened the cabinet, and then how much she completely struggled the second time, nearly giving up before finally getting it right. Could destiny have guided her hands? Perhaps the gods were playing games with them all. Or perhaps it was all simple luck and coincidence. Rosetta, the small-town maid, couldn’t rightly say.
As the two finally arrived at the mansion, hand in hand once again, Lena turned to her maid.
“So, Little Rosie?” The redhead gave the girl a smirk at the cute name her aunt and uncle used.
Rose struggled to meet her eyes as her cheeks brightened. “Oh, be quiet.” She nudged her lady with a shoulder. “Like you don’t have any cutesie names from when you were younger,” she grumbled.
Lena hummed, “Whatever you say, ‘little flower,’” before skipping ahead through the doors and inside.