Many, many glasses of champagne later, Rose and Owen were stumbling and giggling through countless conversations with her reception guests. Owen knew just the right things to ask to get their game rolling and help them both get plastered.

"Mrs. Benson," Owen said to a short, plump woman wearing too much jewelry, "How was your vacation to France?" Rose was impressed at how easily he spoke, and how well he fit in.

"Oh, Owen," Mrs. Benson pressed a gloved hand to her cheek, "How sweet of you to remember. It would have been wonderful if there weren't so many riots. Really, some people have no awareness of others."  

While Owen snorted, Rose took a sip from her glass and gave Mrs. Benson a polite smile. “That’s so true, Mrs. Benson. Some people really do lack self-awareness. Excuse us for a moment.” 

She linked her arm with Owen’s and led him away before he could start howling with laughter. Once they were out of earshot, she began laughing with him until tears formed in her eyes. Owen had the most contagious laughter she had ever heard, and it just made her want to hear it more. 

Arms still linked, they stumbled around the ballroom. They shared stories and drama of the guests with each other. 

“As stereotypical as it is, Mrs. Penny is sleeping with their pool boy. Mr. Penny knows, but he considers it his wife's “side project” so he doesn’t say anything to her about it,” he shared. Or, “Mr. Craven comes from a line of Lords, and he thinks that everyone should treat him as such. He lords it over people, pun very much intended.”

Rose would reply with stories of her own. She leaned into him, getting closer to his ear, and said, “Do you see Mr. Davenport over there? Well, last year he got so drunk at my father’s birthday party, that he ended up taking an escort to Dublin. He woke up the next day a very confused man, because he was in a bathtub of a shady motel covered in mayonnaise and chicken feathers, and down about five grand.” 

Owen gave her a bewildered look. “How did that even happen?” He asked.

“And that, my dear friend, is the question we all have been asking.” She grinned at him. 

Just then, Edward appeared in front of them. “Owen, old friend, I see you have met my lovely wife,” he said, offering his arm for Rose to take. She reluctantly took it, knowing that it was expected of her since she was married to the fool. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she? My daddy says that she will suit me well.” He glanced Rose up and down as he did at the altar. “Though, I think I could class her up a bit, don’t you?” 

Owen gave a small smile. “I think she is rather lovely the way she is, sir,” he replied, sending Rose a wink. She blushed slightly while thinking, who even winks these days?

Edward cleared his throat. “Yes, well, thank you for entertaining my wife, Owen. I do think she has had a fair bit to drink. I think it’s time for her to come home and rest for the evening. Besides, we should spend time together as newlyweds. Don’t you think, dear?” 

Spending the last few hours laughing and joking with Owen had left her feeling happier than she had felt in months, but that warmth dissipated in less than 30 seconds since Edward arrived. Her skin crawled from the entire interaction. The first time he has spoken directly to her since the wedding, he was insinuating something she’d rather not think about. She also felt dirty by how he treated her like arm candy after making multiple comments about her appearance. 

“Of course, dear,” she heard herself say, meekly. 

Owen flashed Rose a concerned glance but said nothing to her. Instead, he nodded to Edward, returning to his duties. “Of course, sir. I shall fetch the chauffeur for you.” 

As Rose and Edward walked to the exit together, she turned to him. “Dear,” she said, hesitantly, “I wanted to discuss-”

“Oh, yes! We have so much to discuss-”

“-our sleeping arrangements.” She cringed. 

He stopped and looked at her shocked. “What about?”

“Well,” she started, “I just think that it would be better for the both of us if we had separate rooms.”

“And why is that?” He squinted at her in confusion.

Rose didn’t know this man enough to predict how he would react to her telling him the truth- that the thought of sharing a bed with him made her want to vomit all over his probably-silk sheets, and that feeling was even before the alcohol having her wobbly on her feet. So, instead, she told him, “Well, you see, I’m an awful sleeper-”

“Are you?” He asked.

It took everything in Rose’s power to keep from rolling her eyes at his incessant interruptions. “Yes, I toss and turn and snore very loudly-”

“Oh, my. You should really see a sleep specialist about that,” Edward said, thoughtfully. Or at least Rose hoped it was thoughtful, because at this point she wasn’t unconvinced that his brain had been replaced by a fat gerbil on a hamster wheel.

“Perhaps I should. But as I was saying-”

“Yes, dear, what were you saying?”

“I was saying,” she said through gritted teeth, “was that I really think you deserve your uninterrupted beauty sleep.” Not that he cared about her uninterrupted anything. “You’re such an influential man, and I would hate to disrupt the rest you so deserve.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, hoping that it would do the trick. 

Edward blinked at her in surprise. “That is a well-made point, darling. Did Owen suggest it?”

Rose slapped her hand against her forehead. “Why, yes, he did,” she resigned. 

“A good lad, that one is. Well, so be it. I shall find a room to accommodate your unfortunate sleeping habits.” He stood straighter. “It appears that our car has arrived. Come, let us go.” 

After talking it over with the house staff, Edward showed Rose to her new room himself. Oh, I should feel so honored, she thought sarcastically. Although she was happy that she avoided having to sleep in the same room as Edward, she missed her old room. She had decorated her room to be the perfect place to cozy up and relax. Photos of her loved ones covered the walls, her bedsheets shades of purple with a deep purple duvet, and a fuzzy blanket covered the chair that sat in the corner of her room where she would work on her school work or read her favorite book. She had hung fairy lights around draping across her ceiling in rows. 

The room she stood in did not feel cozy. It was covered in exorbitant decorations that she could only describe as #extra. The walls were painted a deep blue with gold crown molding. One of the walls was adorned with a wide mirror with a bronze frame that had intricate designs carved into the metal. The bed sat pushed up against the wall in the middle of the room. The bed frame was made out of dark wood and the blankets matched the walls. It had a gold canopy hanging from four posters, and made Rose feel claustrophobic just looking at it. 

The only thing that wasn’t absolutely atrocious was a large window on the wall opposite the mirror. The window overlooked the garden. She had a full view of the white gazebo that sat surrounded by flowers of pinks, oranges, whites, and blues. Rose opened the window and rested her arms on the window sill. She leaned her head out slightly and inhaled the garden scents deeply. 

Rose would have to talk to Edward about allowing her to change the room, she decided. She figured her father wouldn’t allow this to be a temporary situation. Maybe it was the alcohol still flowing through her system, but Rose decided right then that she would try to make the best of the situation. She would still attend her classes at Syracuse University, she would still meet up with her friends. And if the marriage went up in flames, the Crantz’ and Rosenbergs hadn’t thought to put a prenup in place, so Rose would be able to live comfortably while she looked for a job. 

Though, if the marriage did go up in flames, she would be disowned and would not have a family left anymore. She was mad at James for essentially selling her to fix a mistake that he had made. She was mad at Sylvia, her mother, for not standing up for her and allowing this to happen. Rose couldn’t say she was surprised, however, because Sylvia had always been an enabler. But the thought of her family disowning her and leaving her to fight for herself scared her, so she would have to make the best of the situation and ensure this marriage would last.