The marble floors of the Carter estate echoed softly beneath their steps as Rose and Vivienne made their way downstairs. The air was thick with unspoken excitement—though it seemed Vivienne had enough giddiness for the both of them. Her little feet barely touched the ground as she moved, practically bouncing ahead.
Rose followed, slightly amused. Why's she more excited than me? she thought, watching the younger girl with a faint, fond smile tugging at her lips.
As they reached the grand hallway, they spotted Mr. Whitaker—the ever-composed butler—conversing with a few maids. Before Rose could even say a word, Vivienne had already darted toward him.
"Mr. Whitaker!" she chirped. "Brother said he got something for Miss Rose! He told us to meet you for it!"
Rose blinked, watching Vivienne with mild disbelief. She just left me like that… she thought. "Even at that age, I didn't have that much energy to spare."
Mr. Whitaker turned to them, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he bowed slightly. "Miss Rose," he said with an air of mystery, gesturing toward the main entrance. "If you would kindly follow me."
With curiosity blooming in her chest, Rose walked beside him, Vivienne trailing close behind. As the doors swung open, the afternoon sunlight poured in, bathing the front courtyard in a warm golden hue.
And then she saw it.
A luxurious black car stood waiting just outside the mansion. Sleek. Expensive. Silent. Its mere presence whispered extravagance. Mr. Whitaker walked to its side and with the subtle click of a button, the trunk gracefully lifted.
What Rose saw next stole her breath.
Inside, overflowing to the brim, were hundreds—no, thousands—of roses. A lavish sea of crimson petals kissed with fragrance and mystery. Nestled perfectly in the center of it all was a single white envelope.
Before Rose could react, another car pulled up beside the first, and its trunk opened in perfect synchronicity… revealing even more roses.
Vivienne gasped, wide-eyed. "I can't help but feel jealous," she whispered to Rose, "that brother gave you way more flowers than he's ever given me."
Rose could barely process it. Her heart thudded loudly against her ribcage. Julian… really did all this? Her eyes danced over the petals, over the second car, then to the letter.
With trembling fingers, she opened it.
"It suits your name pretty well."
Simple. Direct. Heart-stirring.
Vivienne snatched the letter and read it aloud again, a grin lighting her entire face. "I guess somebody likes you, too, Rose! Looks like we'll be having boyfriends at the same time!" she teased, spinning with joy.
Just as she said that, Mr. Whitaker's voice broke through. "If I may, young mistress… what was that about you having a boyfriend?"
Vivienne froze. Panic settled across her face as she realized what she'd let slip. "Oh no…"
She took off like a flash, vanishing back into the house.
Rose blinked, unsure whether to laugh or chase after her. Instead, she turned back to the butler and the strangers now gathering by the vehicles.
"What… what am I supposed to do with all these flowers?" she asked weakly.
Mr. Whitaker shrugged with an amused glint in his eyes.
But then, he added, "That's not all, Miss Rose."
Rose looked at him like he'd just grown two heads. "Please… no more flowers."
He chuckled. "But that wouldn't be romantic, now would it?" He reached into his inner coat pocket and drew out a small velvet box, presenting it with both hands.
Inside the box sat a delicate golden necklace. At the center was a meticulously crafted rose pendant—shimmering, warm, almost alive. When she turned it over, her name was engraved in an elegant script.
Rose.
It was simple. Beautiful. Personal. Like the touch of someone who had studied her.
Her chest ached—too many feelings flooding all at once.
"It's too much," she whispered. "Far too much."
Mr. Whitaker simply nodded. "Shall we have the flowers sent to your quarters, Miss?"
She gave a small nod, still staring at the necklace, and quietly made her way back inside.
---
Upstairs, Julian stood by the window in his dark button-up, a steaming cup of tea in hand. The rim barely brushed his lips as he watched her reaction through the glass. He took a slow sip, satisfaction flickering behind his eyes… and a ghost of a smirk playing on his mouth.
---
Later that evening, as the house melted into its evening lull, Rose made her way down the corridor toward Vivienne's room. The silence of the house gave her space to think—too much space. Her steps faltered when she reached the staircase, and then she froze completely.
Coming down the opposite stairs… was Julian.
Their eyes met. The space between them buzzed—thick with tension, silent words, and unsaid truths.
He stopped directly in front of her, towering slightly, calm and unreadable.
Rose swallowed.
"I… I just wanted to say thank you," she murmured.
A smile ghosted across Julian's lips. "For what?"
She frowned. He knows what. Smug jerk.
"For the gifts," she said, trying not to sound too breathless. "The flowers, the necklace… it was too much. I had to share some with Vivienne. She thinks we're in some competition now, and I really don't want her feeling like that."
Julian chuckled lowly, a velvet sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "Don't worry," he said smoothly, "she'll get over it. She always does."
There was silence again. A heavy one.
And then Rose stepped slightly to the side, attempting to walk past him.
But his hand came up gently—not stopping her, but just brushing her arm, light enough to ask, not command.
She paused.
"Rose," he said, voice low and deep, "this isn't a show. Or some grand performance to win your favor."
He leaned in a little closer, eyes locked with hers.
"This… is how I protect what's mine."
Her breath caught in her throat.
"You're not just anyone anymore," he continued. "You're mine. I told you that… in the kitchen. And I'll keep showing it… until you start believing it too."
His words weren't desperate—they were definite. Grounded. Like a promise spoken in stone.
Rose stood still, lips slightly parted, heart thudding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
Julian stepped back, his expression unreadable again, and without another word, walked past her and disappeared into the hallway.
And Rose?
She stood there in the silence, frozen in place… her fingers brushing the rose pendant that now hung over her heart.