Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I n Knox’s eyes, the feast was a success.
He didn’t care about whatever it was that had gone wrong. For a big part of the night, Fia had fretted over it, telling him again and again that she had messed up and the porridge was never meant to be served, that she had made a terrible mistake, that the council would never forgive her for it. But as far as Knox was concerned, none of it mattered.
The guests were clearly having a good time. The men and their wives, those who had accompanied them, at least, all ate and drank and danced, and laughter filled the great hall. The elders of his clan couldn’t complain when their guests were having such a great time and everything else was going so smoothly. Besides, even if the porridge had seemed like an odd choice for a formal dinner such as this, it had turned out to be a great success.
It didn’t hurt that he had claimed it was the cook’s specialty. Knox had no idea if that was indeed the truth, but judging by the guests’ appetite and the taste of the porridge itself, he wasn’t far off the mark.
Even Fia, once the initial shock of her mistake subsided, seemed to have a good time. Knox paraded her proudly around the tables, introducing her formally to everyone as his betrothed, and though her mannerisms were still a little rough around the edges, her warm heart and authenticity seemed to win everyone over. The guests were all impressed by her, he could tell. They all looked at her with the same satisfaction, with the same approval in their gazes.
Even his own council had begun, if a little begrudgingly, to warm up to her. There was nothing they could complain now. Fia had passed all her tests with flying colors, just as he had expected. Whether they liked it or not, the council would have to accept her as his wife.
As for him, he did his part as best as he could. He made sure to stay by her side all night, stepping in when she didn’t know how to answer one of the nobles’ questions, keeping her close to him, trying to comfort her with his touch and his presence. It seemed to work. Fia was always calmer when he was near, letting her guard down a little.
It seemed to him that the evening would come to an end without any further excitement when the doors burst open and none other than Callum and his men poured inside the great hall. Knox stood, eyes narrowing as he regarded them all—their faces and clothes dusty, their hair in disarray, their eyes flitting nervously about the room. Only Callum, standing at the front of the group, seemed to have no concern about the fact that he had just crashed a feast.
Why were they even allowed tae enter?
It didn’t matter. Knox wasn’t pleased with the man, but he wasn’t going to make a scene in front of the visiting council.
As Knox hesitated, wondering what to do next, Magnus stood from his seat beside him and rushed to the group. Knox followed him, the whole time throwing reassuring smiles at the guests, who were understandably confused by the soldiers’ sudden presence, until he finally reached Callum.
“What are ye doin’ here?” Magnus asked him. “Cannae ye see there is a feast?”
“It was urgent,” Callum said. “I wished tae let ye ken we returned.”
“That’s hardly urgent,” Magnus said.
Knox could feel the tensions rise and so he held up a hand, bringing both of them to silence. “It is what it is,” he said. The last thing he needed was for Callum and Magnus to make a scene in front of their guests. “Ye may clean up an’ return fer the feast. But I must say, Callum, I’m nae pleased with ye. All this time an’ ye never sent a letter. There was an attack. Dae ye ken that?”
“I dae, me laird,” Callum said, and though Knox expected him to follow up with an apology, he never did.
In fact, Callum was hardly even looking at him. Rather, he was looking over his shoulder and when Knox followed his gaze, he found him staring at Fia.
No, not staring. Glaring.
With a sigh, Knox beckoned her close, but she seemed to be frozen under Callum’s stare. The man had that effect on some people, Knox knew, but he wished he could tell Fia there was nothing to fear from him.
“I am celebratin’ me betrothal tae Miss MacKenzie,” Knox explained as he tried to herd Callum and the rest of the soldiers towards the door, only to fail miserably. Callum refused to move. He only stood there like a statue, his gaze fixed on Fia. “Now if ye’ll excuse me, we must continue with the feast?—”
Callum pushed past Knox, completely ignoring him. Distantly, Knox recognized that he should be furious, that he should be putting Callum in his place with his own two hands for embarrassing him like this in front of everyone and not only disobeying him, but openly disregarding him like this. He was so shocked by Callum’s actions, though, that he could hardly do anything more than stare in disbelief as he marched up to Fia, his boots thudding against the floor.
“Congratulations,” he sneered, his voice dripping with venom.
Knox exchanged a nervous glance with Magnus, who seemed just as lost as he felt. Silence fell over the room, more chilling than any other Knox had ever experienced in his life. Everyone’s gaze had shifted to Fia and Callum, watching as the two of them stared at each other in silence, tears gathering in Fia’s eyes.
Before Knox could gather his wits about him and demand that Callum leave right that instant, Callum turned around to face him instead, though his finger pointed in an accusatory manner at Fia.
“Dae ye have any idea who she is?” he asked. “All this? All this is a sham! It’s naethin’ but the ploy o’ a desperate peasant wench! She wormed her way intae this castle an’ then used ye, me laird, manipulatin’ ye intae marryin’ her! I ken her well. I ken her better than any o’ ye an’ I tell ye that ye all fell fer her tricks. How could a lass like her be fit tae become a laird’s wife? Dae ye ken how I found her when we first met? In rags . In a hut in Duror. She was a hungry wee thing, livin’ on scraps. This is the woman ye wish tae have as yer lady? A runt from Duror who tricked ye all? An’ most o’ all, ye, me laird?”
No one spoke, but Knox could see the way his council and even the guests looked at Fia now, as though they thought her beneath them after hearing all this. The crowd stared, half in revulsion and half in confusion, no one knowing what to do after Callum’s outburst.
But Knox wouldn’t have it. Rage, white-hot and dangerous, burned inside him as he stepped forward, placing himself between Callum and Fia. He didn’t want her to even have to look at that bastard. The pain she felt was written plainly across her features, her beautiful face contorted with a grief so palpable that it settled like a chill in his chest.
“Dinnae ye ever dare speak o’ me betrothed that way again,” he warned Callum, roaring with rage. “Or it will be the last thing ye ever say. Dae ye understand? I’ll have yer head afore I let ye insult me wife! An’ I’ll have ye ken that it is me own decision tae wed her. Nae one has or could influence me.”
Callum said nothing. He only stared at Knox with a murderous gaze, as if the only thing that kept him from jumping at him with a sword was their ranks and the knowledge that if he ever dared harm him, he would have much worse coming his way.
Knox didn’t care. Callum could hate him all he wanted. He could rage and throw a tantrum like a child, but he would never have it his way.
Then, without another word, Callum turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, leaving his group of soldiers bewildered. Slowly, they dissipated, some of them heading to the barracks while others headed to the kitchens, and Knox turned around to face the room.
No one was looking at him. In fact, no one was looking anywhere but at their plates, and soon, the boldest of them excused himself, pulling his wife along. With him making the first step, the others soon followed, mumbling excuses about being tired from their travels and needing to retire. They thanked Knox politely for his hospitality as they exited the room.
Even the musicians had stopped playing and were now waiting to be excused, but Knox only had eyes for Fia.
She was still standing by her chair as if frozen in time, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Drawing in a deep breath, Knox forced himself to walk up to her, the words catching in his throat once before he managed to speak.
“Is it true? What he said?” he asked. He didn’t even want to entertain the idea, but he had to hear it from Fia’s lips. He had to hear her reassurance that Callum was a fool who only knew how to lie.
But that wasn’t what she said. In fact, she only nodded silently and a fresh wave of tears poured down her face, glinting under the torchlight.
Knox’s heart stopped. Time seemed to stand still, the silence between them heavy and oppressive. If he thought there had been a frigidity in the room before, now it was almost unbearable, spreading into his bones, chilling him to the core.
It was not what he had expected to hear and he could hardly believe it. How could Fia have done this to him? How could she have approached him with anything other than pure intentions when she herself seemed so pure?
“I… I need tae think,” he told her, pulling out of her grasp when she reached for him. It prompted a soft sob out of her, but as much as Knox wanted to comfort her, to tell her it would all be alright, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than stumble backwards, eager to retreat to his chambers. “I just… need tae think.”
With that, he was gone, never once looking back at her.