Spending a few hours passing by, Anahera decided to take Rose to her apartment until she calmed down. This took a while as night fell and Rose still showed tics from her nerves.
Rose recounted to Anahera what had happened, which of course worried Anahera, who had grown fond of Rose. Rose’s tics were hard to suppress when she was frightened; one caused her to jerk her hands abruptly, inadvertently injuring herself, another was her repetition of words she heard from Anahera, and the third was that she would suddenly experience mild convulsions...
Around 9 p.m., someone knocked on Anahera's apartment door, so she rushed to answer, assuming she knew who it was.
"Mother, what's wrong? Is everything okay?" asked Claramond, concerned.
"Oh, son... you have no idea what happened... come, I need your help, do something quickly..." Anahera said, worriedly scurrying to the bedroom.
Claramond shut the door and ran after his mother to find Rose in a corner of Anahera's bedroom, suffering from her tics.
Upon entering and seeing this, he was taken aback and approached Rose, taking her hands, noticing the severity of her movements, so he firmly grasped Rose’s hands.
"How long has she been like this?" Claramond asked.
"Since before noon... She would fall asleep occasionally, but when she wakes, it's like this." Anahera replied.
"Do you have ice? Bring me some with a towel, please." Claramond requested.
Anahera immediately exited the room to fetch the ice. Claramond stayed, holding Rose's hands while she, through tears, panted heavily, looking down visibly shaken, which led him to try to soothe her.
"Relax... look at me..." he said, holding both of her hands with one of his, and with the other, he gently guided her chin to meet his gaze. "Breathe with me, okay?" He instructed.
She nodded, and he demonstrated the breathing rhythm for her to follow. Shortly, Anahera returned with the ice, so he let go of Rose's hands and placed the ice in the towel, then wrapped Rose's hands around the ice-filled towel. To prevent her from letting go, he covered her hands with his and stayed that way, trying to alleviate the second tic.
After a few minutes, Rose began to relax and seemed to be falling asleep. The ice had numbed her hands, and that tic faded away.
Seeing her starting to doze off, Claramond removed the ice and dried her hands before carrying her to the bed, where he laid her down.
About to leave, Rose, nearly asleep, softly grasped his shirt. She had entrusted him completely and thus didn't want him to leave at that moment.
He honored her silent plea and sat down beside the bed, staying with her. Anahera remained in the kitchen preparing dinner while pondering what Rose had shared.
After several minutes, Rose fell sound asleep, which led Claramond to join his mother in the kitchen, taking a seat on a chair.
"Why was she so distressed? She's got bruises on her face." he inquired.
"Well... It seems that... it was her brother." Anahera revealed. Claramond was astonished by her words and then reflected on the situation.
"I thought they treated her well... Now I see it was all just an act of being a good family." Commented Claramond.
"She told me he came to tell her they were committing her to someone for the family's sake... But when she said she didn't want to, her brother hit her." Anahera disclosed.
"Committing her?... How cruel..." Claramond remarked...
...
The following day, Rose went back to her apartment. She was visibly unwell and had even caught a slight cold.
Anahera took care of her, noting her illness, dedicatedly brought her things to help her recover.
Around 3 p.m., someone knocked on the door of her apartment. Rose, with much effort and dizziness, slowly made her way to the door due to the insistent knocking.
Outside the apartment, Amon was pounding on the door, annoyed at not receiving a response, until after hearing the violent knocks, Anahera emerged from her apartment.
"She's ill... She has a bad cold," Anahera informed Amon.
"Oh, I see. Had I known, I would have brought a doctor. Thank you very much." Amon said, quite kindly.
"I gave her medicine, and I've been looking after her." Anahera responded, unlocking Rose’s door with her keys.
Upon opening the door, they saw Rose leaning against a wall, indisputably in bad condition as she could barely stand up.
"Oh, dear. You shouldn't have gotten up," Anahera said, approaching her.
Aaron exhaled, then flashed a smile and walked over to Rose.
"Good Lord, Rosemary, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling ill?" Amon said, moving to lift Rose into his arms. "No worries, kind madam. I will take care of her," He assured Anahera.
"Mm... I've made some strawberry soup, so I'll bring that over. I'll be right back," Anahera said, clearly mistrusting Amon.
As soon as Anahera exited and closed the door, Aaron released Rose, causing her to collapse onto the floor, exhausted.
"I need you to get well... But NOW. I’ll bring you medicine, and by tomorrow, I want you ready to meet your fiance." Amon expressed. Rose looked at him without making eye contact and, as best as she could, stood up to lean on the sofa.
"I don't want to..." she gasped.
"It's not a question. I brought the dress you will wear tomorrow, so by noon, I expect you to be ready for your first encounter with your fiance," Amon stated.
Amon then left a bag and a shoebox on the sofa and departed the apartment. Rose broke into tears, falling to her knees and weeping.
Anahera, arriving shortly afterward and having seen Amon leave, entered the apartment with the bowl of food, set it on the table, and went to Rose.
"What has he done to you now?" Anahera asked, embracing her. Rose hugged back and continued crying in her arms...
...
As evening fell, Claramond was at a restaurant where he was to meet two people. He felt somewhat uneasy.
After waiting a few minutes, the two men appeared, prompting Claramond to stand and greet them.
"Mr. Farrell, young Amon. A pleasure."
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