Rowan raised his brows slightly upon hearing Freya’s claim of him. For a moment, he felt his heart bubble with joy, to have the woman he had eyes for openly declare to others that he belonged to her. He had met many women, but none surprised him the way this girl did. She always did things he didn’t expect, or even think she would be able to do.
At that moment, Rowan could see her flushed face; she was embarrassed by her actions, but he was proud. Proud that she was able to speak up for herself in front of others. Despite being shy, she knew when to stand up for herself. Even if he wasn’t sure she had made the claim out of love, it still made him happy to hear that she chose him.
Rowan’s eyes moved down to her fingers; she was squeezing them so tightly that they almost turned pale.
"How is he yours?" one of the women asked, now pointing at Freya. "You can’t just stand there and say he belongs to you. If you want his attention, then get in line."
Freya rubbed her hands together. She had thought of the claim in the moment but hadn’t planned what to say afterward, especially after being asked a question like that. How was Rowan hers? The claim was too bold. If she said it was a mistake, it would be even more embarrassing, but if she stood by it, what if Rowan denied her? Moreover, they had only been sleeping together and hadn’t defined what they meant to each other.
Darting her eyes to the side, Freya tried to think of something to say in response. It would have been easier if they were inside with fewer people, but the commotion Madame Rosalie and Malcolm had caused earlier had drawn a crowd. Freya cursed under her breath, regretting that she hadn’t planned her words before speaking.
"I-uh... he..." Freya started. Inhaling deeply, she brought her hands down to her sides, but this time gripping her silk skirt tightly. "It’s um..."
Rowan knew he could easily step in and end the conversation by defending her, but he was waiting for something else. He wanted to know if Freya truly wanted to be with him as much as he wanted her. He had always returned to her no matter how much she pushed him away, but right now, he wanted her to reach out to him. He was willing to hold her. So Rowan waited patiently; he wanted to hear Freya’s thoughts. He wanted to hear her say she had feelings for him, that she no longer saw the worst in him but recognized that she loved and accepted him for who he was.
"See? She doesn’t even know what she’s saying," the woman who had spoken earlier continued. Turning around, she raised her hand toward Rowan’s chest. "Girls like you, who want to have a man without working for it, are the worst," she spat, and the others standing around began laughing.
Freya blinked, taking a step back. She bowed her head, too ashamed to look anyone in the face, especially Rowan. She wanted to leave quietly but was too embarrassed to move her feet.
"And what about women like you?" Rowan asked, catching the woman’s hand before it could touch him. "Women who think their face and body give them a fast pass to everything, disgust me most." he said, pushing her hand away.
"Ah," the woman gasped, stumbling back but was caught by the other women standing behind her. She turned and pushed them away before refocusing on Rowan. "Are you really going to take her home?"
Rowan raised his brows. "You heard the young woman. I belong to her now." His attention shifted to Freya. From the look on her face, Rowan knew she was dying of embarrassment.
Freya cleared her throat when she heard Rowan’s voice. He was taking her side in front of everyone, and he was also looking at her. Freya quickly averted her gaze, looking elsewhere.
As the crowd murmured and dispersed, Rowan made his way toward Freya, covering the distance between them.
"I’m here to serve you, milady," Rowan said, bowing and stretching his hand forward for Freya to take.
Freya gulped, bringing her hands close to her chest. Seeing Rowan act like a gentleman in front of her, she noticed from the corner of her eye that some people were still watching her.
Rowan frowned when she didn’t take his hand. "I know you don’t want to, but let’s leave here at least. People are watching." Standing up straight, he took hold of Freya’s hand, and they left the event ground together.
Freya trotted behind him, using her free hand to hold up her dress. Looking down at how his large palm covered her hand stirred something inside her, and without realizing it, she smiled to herself.
When they reached where Rowan’s horse was tied, he finally let go of Freya’s hand and got the saddle ready for her to sit on. "I’ll take you back to the palace."
"Hm?" Freya furrowed her brows. "Why?" She had heard she was supposed to follow the man she picked back to his house, and they would stay together for some days. Unless Rowan’s house was in the palace, this thought crossed Freya’s mind.
Rowan stopped what he was doing. "Why? Wasn’t that why you claimed me out there? Madame Rosalie left with your carriage, and you wanted me to take you back home." He rubbed the horse’s mane before turning his attention back to Freya.
Freya opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. This was an opportunity for her to go back to the palace and also deny claiming Rowan, a perfect excuse. But why wasn’t she agreeing? She didn’t want to go back to the palace with her inner turmoil. And earlier, when she saw Rowan with other women, she hadn’t been happy about it. Now that she thought of it, Freya didn’t think she could live knowing Rowan belonged to another woman.
"I didn’t—"
"You mean you would have followed another man to his house?" Rowan’s eyes darkened at the thought. "You came for the festival, and you were going to go home with the man you picked." Rowan’s voice grew angrier at the thought of another man being with Freya, making her smile, and touching her body. Jealousy wicked hold gripped Rowan’s heart in that very moment.
Freya waved her hand slowly. "No, I wouldn’t have," she retorted with a frown. "And what about you? I’m not allowed to go to another man’s house, but were you going to follow another woman?"
"You saw me; I was leaving," Rowan replied. "Get on the horse. Let me take you back to the palace. And stop doing things that are dangerous," he murmured, as if arguing with himself.
"I wonder how a tiny girl isn’t afraid of walking into trouble," Rowan continued, tying the band around his wrist forcefully.
Freya chuckled. "I’m the tiny girl who walks into trouble? Whose fault is it? The first trouble I stepped into was meeting you, and I couldn’t help but enjoy it!" she exclaimed. Only after the words had left her mouth did she gasp.
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