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The Rose Window: Rosamund's Tale
A Glass Artisan, A Cursed Castle, Forbidden Love... Stand-alone story that interconnects with the continuing saga of the Thornecrest Series.
The sun rose slowly over the moors, its light diffused by early mist that clung like gauze to the hillsides. Thornecrest Manor, still young in stone and timber, stood proud but solitary atop the rise, its newness softened by ivy that already sought to climb its walls, as though nature herself wished to claim it back.
Rosamund Ashenleigh stood on the upper terrace, brush in hand, gaze fixed on the land before her. A wide canvas had been set before her on an easel, the wind gently stirring the hem of her gown and the gauzy veil she wore to keep the sun from her face. Her brow furrowed as she mixed a color—ochre from the earth, softened with white, a touch of vermilion to catch the wild rose hue hidden in the hills.
The castle, though not ancient, already bore the soul of its lineage. Its halls echoed faintly even when still, and the stones seemed to murmur with the breath of something deeper than memory. Rosamund had grown here, its chambers and shadows familiar as an old lullaby. Yet she never took for granted the eerie hush of early mornings or the sudden bursts of birdsong that seemed to chase away ghosts.
Behind her, the great oaken doors creaked open. A voice, soft but with the weight of command, reached her ears.
"You've captured it well."
She turned. There stood Everard Ashenleigh, tall and striking in the pale light. His raven-dark hair, not yet touched by grey, fell loosely to his collar. He was dressed plainly, a mark of the time before courtly vanity, yet the richness of his bearing could not be hidden.
Rosamund offered a modest smile. "The land speaks to me, cousin. I only try to listen."
His eyes, a stormy gray, searched hers for a moment. Then he stepped closer...
The Rose Rosamund's Tale is a stand-alone story that also interconnects with the continuing saga of the Thornecrest Series.
___
The sun rose slowly over the moors, its light diffused by early mist that clung like gauze to the hillsides. Thornecrest Manor, still young in stone and timber, stood proud but solitary atop the rise, its newness softened by ivy that already sought to climb its walls, as though nature herself wished to claim it back.
Rosamund Ashenleigh stood on the upper terrace, brush in hand, gaze fixed on the land before her. A wide canvas had been set before her on an easel, the wind gently stirring the hem of her gown and the gauzy veil she wore to keep the sun from her face. Her brow furrowed as she mixed a color—ochre from the earth, softened with white, a touch of vermilion to catch the wild rose hue hidden in the hills.
The castle, though not ancient, already bore the soul of its lineage. Its halls echoed faintly even when still, and the stones seemed to murmur with the breath of something deeper than memory. Rosamund had grown here, its chambers and shadows familiar as an old lullaby. Yet she never took for granted the eerie hush of early mornings or the sudden bursts of birdsong that seemed to chase away ghosts.
Behind her, the great oaken doors creaked open. A voice, soft but with the weight of command, reached her ears.
"You've captured it well."
She turned. There stood Everard Ashenleigh, tall and striking in the pale light. His raven-dark hair, not yet touched by grey, fell loosely to his collar. He was dressed plainly, a mark of the time before courtly vanity, yet the richness of his bearing could not be hidden.
Rosamund offered a modest smile. "The land speaks to me, cousin. I only try to listen."
His eyes, a stormy gray, searched hers for a moment. Then he stepped closer...
The Rose Rosamund's Tale is a stand-alone story that also interconnects with the continuing saga of the Thornecrest Series.
___
43 pages, Kindle Edition
Published June 13, 2025
2 people are currently reading
About the author
Alsen Barrett
9 books2 followersAlsen Barrett is a writer of fiction, non-fiction and poetry who enjoys reading, history, travel and of course dogs, which feature prominently in many of the stories.
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