Chapter 440: A Gift

Chapter 440: A Gift

Rosalind raised an eyebrow, her eyes fixed on the extravagant display of food before her. She sat in her opulent room, where she had been ushered by Lucas. The man insisted she rests before the upcoming event. Despite the recent unsettling events, her birthday party was still scheduled to take place. Lucas had brought her back to her tower and now presented her with yet another feast.

The display of food before Rosalind appeared deceptively ordinary at first glance. A large silver platter adorned with delicate lace doilies held an array of culinary delights.

Yet, as Rosalind's eyes scanned over the spread, she couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to it than meets the eye. It exuded an aura of enchantment, an undercurrent of mysticism that tickled her senses.

Nestled amidst a bed of fresh greens, a perfectly cooked steak glistened, its surface seared to a mouthwatering caramel hue. The aroma wafting from its tender flesh was tantalizing, promising a succulent burst of flavors. As Rosalind observed the steak, she couldn't help but notice a faint shimmer dancing across its surface, as if infused with a subtle magic that heightened its appeal.

Who would have steak for breakfast? nove(l)bi(n.)com

Beside the steak, a medley of vibrant vegetables beckoned invitingly. Each morsel seemed to radiate with a kaleidoscope of colors, vibrant greens, fiery reds, and golden yellows.

The vegetables appeared impossibly fresh as if plucked from an enchanted garden just moments ago. Their textures and flavors promised a delightful symphony for the palate, promising a harmonious balance of crispness, juiciness, and earthy sweetness.

A plump, jewel-toned fruit caught Rosalind's attention nexta ripe pomegranate, its leathery exterior concealing a treasure trove of ruby-red arils within.

Its presence on the platter seemed both ordinary and extraordinary as if it held a secret waiting to be discovered. Rosalind imagined the burst of tart juiciness that would accompany each bite, an explosion of flavors that mirrored the mysteries lurking within the fruit itself.

The display of food was completed with a delicate arrangement of pastries, their flaky crusts adorned with intricately woven patterns. Each pastry seemed to hold a story of its own, a tale of skilled hands and meticulous craftsmanship.

Belisarius shrugged nonchalantly, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. With a swift motion, he extended his hand, revealing a small, circular object that flew directly into Rosalind's grasp. She gasped in surprise, her eyes fixated on the object now in her hand.

"This," Belisarius announced, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and apology, "is a pearl that can save your life. No matter how grievous your injuries. As long as a flicker of life remains within you, this pearl can aid in your recovery. Consider it a gift and an apology."

Rosalind's gaze remained fixed on the shimmering pearl, marveling at its unique beauty. It was unlike any black pearl she had ever seen, possessing an otherworldly allure. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her as she contemplated the implications of this unexpected gift.

"Keep it," Belisarius urged, his voice earnest. "It could be the key to saving your life one day."

"She doesn't need the pearl when she has me," Lucas exclaimed, his voice tinged with frustration and jealousy. He made a futile attempt to grab the pearl, but Rosalind swiftly concealed it, her eyes flashing with defiance. She couldn't believe the audacity of his words.

He hadn't even been present during their wedding night!

How dare he dismiss the significance of this gift?

"Thank you," Rosalind responded, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she deliberately ignored the scowl etched on Lucas's face. "It's rather touching to receive a gift for my birthday." She was simply not used to it. First the cake and now this. Rosalind did not honestly know what to say.

Lucas's scowl deepened, his temper flaring. He rose from the bed, positioning himself squarely in front of Belisarius, his stance protective and possessive. "She does not want anything from you," he spat, his voice seething with animosity.

Belisarius shook his head, a mixture of disappointment and resignation evident in his expression. Without uttering another word, he vanished into thin air, leaving behind an eerie silence in his wake.