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Play My Heart Like A Fiddle

Rosalie Stone faces a devastating reality in the fantasy novel Play My Heart Like A Fiddle. Her fiance, Bradley Wakefield, is a man of immense status within the Sandharan Order, yet his heart remains closed to her. While he eventually chooses to abandon his sacred path for love, Rosalie realizes she is not the woman he desires. Faced with this cold truth, she resolves to let go of their future. She sets a strict seven-day deadline to erase her feelings and move on from him forever.
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Chapter 6

Rosalie's hair was still dripping, and her clothes were soaked through. The heels of her shoes had snapped because she'd run around searching for Lola all night, rendering her unable to walk in them anymore.

She wouldn't have returned if not for that. She would've continued searching in the rain.

"Why have you only just gotten back, Rosie?" Lola asked in surprise. She ran over with her feet bare and draped the blanket she was bundled up in over Rosalie's shoulders. "Oh, my God! You're soaked! Where were you? How did you end up like this?"

Rosalie didn't answer. All she did was look at Lola as tears stung her eyes. She asked, "When did you get back?"

"Me? Ages ago," Lola answered. "Brad found me! I had no idea where I was, and my phone's battery was flat. The sky was getting darker, and it started raining. I almost had the living daylights scared out of me.

"Luckily, Brad found me just as it started raining. It's almost like he can sense where I am—he was also the first to find me when I lost my way in the grasslands…"

Rosalie couldn't help laughing. It turned out Bradley had found Lola just as it started raining. This was the power of true love—he'd found her so quickly.

It was a heartfelt tale—no matter the distance and the storms they had to weather, their hearts linked them to each other. That was why he could find Lola faster than anyone else.

Rosalie felt like a joke. She'd braved the rain throughout the night for nothing. It was laughable.

"Rosie, are you mad at me?" Lola lowered her head uneasily when she saw that Rosalie didn't look too happy. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run off like that…"

Rosalie shut her eyes tiredly. "Forget it."

Yes, she would forget about it. They wouldn't see each other anymore anyway.

"You don't need to apologize to her," Bradley said, his voice as cold as always. "Evil deeds reap evil outcomes. She's the one who sowed these evil seeds, so she has to reap them."

And so, Rosalie knew what had happened. He'd done this on purpose—he'd deliberately avoided calling her after finding Lola because he wanted to punish her on Sandhara's behalf. He wanted to punish her for losing Lola out of jealousy.

Rosalie looked at him calmly. Her eyes were wet, but maybe the moisture was from being out in the rain all night. She said, "I hope you remember what you just said, Bradley. 'Evil deeds reap evil outcomes.'

"If one day you find yourself choking on the consequences of your actions, don't forget that you sowed those evil seeds."

With that, she turned and left without another look back.

For the next few days, Rosalie and Bradley settled into a cold war. They didn't see or speak to each other.

On the day before the wedding, she received the monastic robe that the Sacred Goddess needed to wear during the ordination ceremony. Stanley had mailed it to her.

It was pure white with red and gold embroidery on the sleeves and hem. The red cosmos was in full bloom along the trim, and the gold scriptures shimmered with quiet reverence.

She only had one day to go. After that day, she would fly to Zolt and be ordained as the Sandharan Order's Sacred Goddess. She would join the monastery and cut all mortal ties.

Rosalie sat in a daze with the robe in her arms for a long time. Ultimately, she decided to seek Bradley out and end the cold war.

She figured she would say her goodbyes properly and ask him to cancel the wedding. He didn't owe her anything, nor did he need to repay her. She would soon join the Sandharan Order, so whatever love, resentment, and regrets lay between them would cease to exist.

She headed to Bradley's study with that thought in mind. However, it was empty. All she saw was a piece of paper on the desk. The ink had yet to dry, which meant Bradley had just left.

Out of curiosity, Rosalie looked down to see what he'd written. On the paper, written in bold brushstrokes, was a single sentence.

"I would willingly transform into a stone bridge, enduring 500 years of wind, rain, and the scorching sun, just for the chance that you might walk across me in your next lifetime."