Bow to the King

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rose woke up the next morning with a quiet groan. Her body was making it entirely clear that walking and running for hours without food or rest had been a bad idea. Not that it had been her idea in the first place.

She rolled over and managed to push herself up with her bound hands. She looked around and noticed Garrett standing wide-awake, watching her movements. No chance of escaping, then. Rose wiggled uncomfortably until she was sitting upright. She looked down at her bound hands - she could see crusted blood around the rope from where it had chafed her skin. It did not hurt too much if she kept her arms still.

Her dress skirt was destroyed. Dirt covered it, the forest surroundings had torn it so badly that her petticoat was visible in some places. She did not even want to think about the state of her hair. Rose bit her lip.

She looked no better than she had once been as a beggar.

A sudden bout of grief washed over her. Rose fought back the tears, but a few still managed to escape. She was scared; nay, she was terrified. She did not know why these men had taken her, why they wanted her, or what they were going to do to her. She was far, far away from the castle; and she was far, far away from any feelings of safety. Had anyone noticed her missing? Surely someone had come for her.

Then why hadn't they found her yet? The two sides to her thoughts warred within her mind. Her tears dripped onto her wrist and stung her grazes. The pain just made her cry harder. None of this was fair. Her life had not been fair. She had lost everyone she cared for, and now she had been taken from the one person she had learned to love. Where was God in all of this?

Don't you love me, God? If you loved me, why would you let all of this happen to me? Why did you take my parents away from me? Why did you let me become an orphan? Why did you let Beth die? Why do you let evil prevail? Why do you let bad men like these do bad things? I thought you were supposed to be on my side.

The responding silence was so painful that Rose nearly wailed. A whisper of a voice broke through her thoughts, so gentle that she almost missed it.

Am I not a Father?

Rose blinked, her tears suddenly stilled. She was tempted to ignore the thought, presuming it to be her own. But the question refused to disappear, it hung around her like a resting wind.

You are a Father, Rose answered.

Then you are no orphan. You are my Daughter – altogether perfect, altogether loved.

Rose nearly wept.

What Father would hurt his child?

Rose could not answer, for she did not know the response.

No Father who loves his child. So why do you think I would hurt you?

The question stayed with her, hanging in her mind as she fought for the answer. All of a sudden a memory flowed into her thoughts. The hazy image of the woman who had taken Rose into the orphanage – the woman they had all called 'Mother'. Rose was young, she remembered.

The woman was brushing the hair of an older girl and counselling her. She spoke softly, but Rose had caught the words.

"Every person must come to the point in their life where they decide for themselves if God is a good God or not. No one else can make that decision for you, it must be your own. But do not fret, for when you seek the truth, you will find it. And when you cry out for God, He will reveal His love for you. And when you are mad at Him and question who He is, He does not lose His love for you. And if - and how I hope this will be true for you - if you turn to Him and trust Him and decide that He is good; then you will see that you need not be angry with Him. For when you see that He is good, you will see that He will not, and cannot, ever hurt you."