“The dog?”
Miles nodded.
“He wanders the castle. He’s getting old.”
“What did you name it?” Miles put a finger on his chin in thought.
Ella winced. Miles had made fun of her for weeks after. “You know.” Miles’s grin grew. Ella rolled her eyes and grumbled, “Hero.”
Miles nodded. “He was quite the hero, running from everyone except you.”
“You can’t blame him!”
“I’ll never forget that.”
She had always defended the weak. She should have been there for Edwin, to talk sense to him, to support him. For that, she would never forgive herself. She bowed her head.
Miles took her hand into his. “Promise me, Ella. Promise me you will try to make amends with Graden.”
Ella scowled. “I’ll promise you one thing. I’ll promise he won’t end up on the end of my dagger.” She lifted her chin. “And that will be my thank you for saving your life.” With that, she turned and started down the hallway.
“Ella!”
She stopped and took a deep breath before turning back to Miles.
A slow grin replaced his fierce frown. He opened his arms to her. “It is good to see you, little sister.”
She realized she had not greeted him properly. Embarrassed and relieved, she raced into his arms, wrapping hers around him. “I’ve missed you terribly.”
Graden stared into the bottom of his empty mug. He knew Ella would not welcome him. But Miles had insisted he come.
Graden lifted his gaze to scan the Great Hall. At the entrance to the room, displayed in two vases of pottery on either side of the door, long stemmed red roses brightened the room with their vibrant color. He continued his perusal. Near the hearth stood shorter vases with more red roses. At the head table were even more roses. This was the right place, he knew it. If he was ever going to find the blue rose, this was going to be it.
He swiveled his gaze toward Miles and Ella to see them speaking earnestly in the corridor outside of the Great Hall. He knew what they were discussing. When he had agreed to accompany Miles home, it had been because he had heard of Ella’s knowledge with the roses. The decorations around her home proved her skill with the flowers.
He had searched everywhere for the blue rose, researched it with monks and herbalists, questioned merchants who traveled far and wide, before the call to arms arose. At the time, he had considered denying the call to serve, but thought better. He could not deny the king without severe consequences.
During the war, he had continued his search in France, taking long walks alone through countryside and caves, through mountains and valleys. But he had not found the blue rose.
Finally, just as hope was dying that he would ever find it, he overheard Miles talking to another man about his sister and her skill with roses. It gave him hope. Graden had done everything he could to befriend Miles Rames. No matter what the cost, he was going find the blue rose. He had given his word to the witch to find it and it was an oath his honor required he keep.
The blue rose. All his life he had searched for the flower; he even dreamt of the damned thing. It remained as elusive as a lost regret. Graden leaned back in his chair as his gaze swiveled to Ella and Miles.
Ella had surprised him. She was a strong, confident woman who had fire in her veins and her blue eyes. Wisps of dark hair hung in curls from the braid she wore behind her back. Her blue velvet dress clung to the curves of her body. If she didn’t hate him so, and if he had more time, he might fantasize about what it would be like to hold her in his arms, to kiss her bowed lips, to arouse her passion. He was startled to discover that he was rubbing his cheek where she had struck him.
He dropped his hand from his cheek to the table. Thinking about her in that way could only end in frustration. She hated him. And she had every right to hate him. It was just too bad that his most promising hope of finding the blue rose was with a woman who despised him.
