Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As Annabeth sat behind Marcus on his horse, the steady rhythm of the horse’s trot carried her thoughts away. She could feel the warmth of his back beneath her fingertips, the strength in every movement. His presence was solid, grounding her, and a strange comfort filled her chest.
This man is strong, she thought. Strong enough to protect me. He rescued me.
Her thoughts turned inward as they rode, and she found herself replaying the moments of the rescue.
The way he held me, when he placed his doublet on me...
A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the tenderness in his touch, the care he’d shown her despite the danger.
I wish he would say somethin’. Did he come to rescue me because he was the first man Elena found, or did he come because he cares for me?
Her heart skipped at the thought though she quickly shook it off.
Nae, I shouldnae think like that.
Still, the question lingered in her mind, unanswered and growing heavier with each passing moment.
The castle came into view, and Annabeth felt a tightness in her chest. They rode into the courtyard, and as the gates opened, she saw Elena standing near the entrance, worry written all over her face.
Elena’s eyes locked onto hers, and Annabeth felt a surge of warmth mixed with guilt.
She couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for worrying Elena so much.
Elena’s worried expression softened as Marcus helped Annabeth dismount from the horse. Annabeth felt the touch of Marcus’ hand on her waist, steady and reassuring, but she quickly stepped away as she faced her friend. Elena rushed to her side, her voice trembling.
“Annabeth, are ye alright?” she asked, her eyes searching Annabeth for signs of harm.
“I'm fine, Elena,” Annabeth said, offering a small smile though her insides were still unsettled. “Just a bit shaken up, but nae worse for wear.”
She glanced briefly at Marcus, but he was already stepping back, his expression unreadable. She could feel her heart racing, both from the fear of what had happened and from the confusion surrounding Marcus.
Elena’s gaze shifted from Annabeth to Marcus.
Elena’s eyes widened as she took in Annabeth’s torn clothes.
“Ye’re all torn up!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with concern.
“Ye must’ve been through a great deal! What in the world—” She reached for Annabeth’s arm, her hands shaking as she assessed the damage.
Annabeth smiled softly though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine, Elena,” she said, trying to calm her friend. “Just a bit of a scare, that’s all. The clothes, well, they’re nae as important.” She placed a reassuring hand on Elena’s shoulder, knowing the worry she felt for her.
Elena shook her head, clearly unconvinced. “Nay, this is nae right. Ye’re going to yer room, now, and I’ll see to ye!” she insisted, her voice firm but filled with care. Her concern for Annabeth overwhelmed her, and she wasn’t about to let her friend face any more distress.
Marcus, standing nearby, cleared his throat and stepped forward.
“I’ll have a hot bath sent to yer room, Annabeth,” he said, his voice low but steady.
His gaze lingered on her for a brief moment before he quickly turned to his horse, as if the words he’d just spoken had been the last he’d meant to say.
Annabeth nodded, her gratitude clear. “Thank ye, Marcus,” she replied, her tone warm despite the tension in the air.
She could feel the weight of his unspoken words between them, but she didn’t know how to address them, so she simply remained silent.
Marcus, however, didn’t look back at her, his focus now entirely on his horse.
As Elena led Annabeth toward the castle doors, the air between the two women was filled with a mix of concern and unspoken questions.
Elena was silent for a moment before she spoke again, her voice softer now.
“What happened out there, Annabeth? Ye said it was a scare... but, that’s nae all. Ye were in danger, werenae ye?”
Annabeth sighed deeply, her thoughts returning to the forest and the strange men. “Aye, but Marcus took care of it. He made sure I was nae harmed. The rest... well, I’ll tell ye in time, Elena. Just nae now.”
Elena nodded, understanding more than Annabeth could have known. “I’ll help ye, then. Get ye settled, so ye can forget about it for a moment.” She gently guided Annabeth through the corridors, her hands ever-so-careful as she helped her out of the torn clothes.
Once they reached Annabeth's room, Elena carefully helped her sit on the bed. “Ye’ve been through enough, Annabeth,” she murmured, running a soft cloth over Annabeth’s skin as she helped her unwind from the trauma. “Ye just rest now. The rest can wait.”
A few moments later, a string of servants entered, carrying a large tub that they set near the fire.
With great care, they brought in hot buckets of water, filling the tub bit by bit.
Once they had finished, they left, closing the door quietly behind them.
Elena, with a gentle hand on Annabeth’s shoulder, helped her move toward the tub, offering her support as she sank into the steaming water.
Elena, looking concerned, perched on the edge of the tub, wringing her hands in the silence. “I feel so guilty, leavin’ ye out there alone,” she confessed, her voice tight with emotion. “Ye were in danger, and I was nae there to protect ye. I should have stayed with ye.”
Annabeth gave her a reassuring smile, her fingers trailing through the water. “Nay, Elena, daenae be ashamed of what ye did. I ordered ye to go, and if ye hadnae gone to the castle, both of us might’ve been victims. Ye did what ye had to do to get help.”
Elena blinked, shaking her head. “But if I’d stayed with ye—” she started, her voice wavering. “I could’ve done somethin’ more.”
Annabeth hesitated, then leaned back in the tub, the warm water soothing her tired muscles. “Elena, did ye tell a guard first, or did ye run straight to Marcus?”
Elena paused, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “I... I ran straight to him. I saw him at his horse in the courtyard, and I couldnae think of anyone else to go to. As soon as he heard me, he was on his horse and roarin’ out of the courtyard, his face filled with worry.”
Annabeth’s heart fluttered as she processed Elena’s words.
He cares for me? He came to rescue me instead of sendin’ guards?
She allowed herself a small, quiet smile, her chest feeling suddenly full. She didn’t speak for a moment, savoring the warmth that spread through her at the thought.
Elena, watching her, raised an eyebrow. “Ye’re thinkin’ about him, arenae ye?” she asked, her voice teasing but kind. “He cares for ye, Annabeth. That much is clear.”
Annabeth flushed slightly, her fingers dipping below the water’s surface. “I... I daenae ken, Elena. But I feel... different, somehow. It’s strange, but I feel safe with him. I daenae ken what it means yet, but I think I might be startin’ to care, too.”
After Annabeth’s bath, Elena helped her into a soft nightshift, the fabric soothing against her skin.
The warm glow of the fire flickered in the room, casting shadows on the stone walls.
Just as Elena finished adjusting the shift, a sharp knock echoed from the door.
Both women looked at each other, and Elena nodded before moving toward the door as Annabeth wrapped a shawl around her.
Elena opened the door, and with a gracious curtsy, she greeted the visitor.
Annabeth, still feeling the weight of the day’s events, rose and curtsied as well, her movements stiff but respectful.
Standing at the threshold was Lady Elizabeth, her presence commanding yet gentle.
With a warm, composed smile, Elizabeth addressed them, her voice smooth and kind.
“I’ve heard ye were attacked, Annabeth,” Lady Elizabeth said, her brow furrowed in concern. “I came to check on ye, to see if ye were well.” She looked Annabeth over carefully, her gaze soft but searching.
Annabeth offered a small, reassuring smile. “Thank ye for your concern, Lady Elizabeth,” she replied, her voice steady despite the lingering unease. “But I’m well now, truly. A wee bit shaken, but I’ll recover quickly.” She paused, meeting Elizabeth’s gaze with gratitude.
Elizabeth’s lips curved into a warm smile.
“Ye are strong, Annabeth,” she said, her voice firm with conviction.
“Women of our clan must be strong in these times, for we carry the weight of so much, both at home and beyond these walls.” She stepped forward, her tone growing more impassioned.
“Ye must never forget yer strength, lass.”
Annabeth nodded, her heart swelling with pride. “Aye, ye’re right, Lady Elizabeth,” she agreed, feeling the weight of her words. “We must all stand firm, for ourselves and for the ones we love.” There was a strength in Elizabeth’s words that rang true to her.
Elizabeth’s eyes softened as she glanced down as though lost in thought for a moment.
“There was a time,” she said, her voice quieter, “when I felt much as ye do now—chased and pursued by a vile man who couldnae understand that I loved another.” She paused, her gaze distant as she recalled the past. “The man I loved is now me husband, Leon. But those days were nae easy.”
With a final nod, Elizabeth’s expression softened, and she stepped back toward the door. “Goodnight, Annabeth,” she said gently. “Rest well, and remember—strength is yer birthright. Let it guide ye through these times.” With a graceful nod, she left, the door closing softly behind her.
As the door closed behind Lady Elizabeth, Annabeth admired Elizabeth’s strength, her words firm with conviction and a commanding presence.
It reminded Annabeth of Marcus—both were pillars of strength and quiet power.
It made Annabeth realize just how strong the family was and made her miss her own mother, Claire.
Her thoughts drifted to her village, to the simplicity and warmth of home.
She could almost smell the earthiness of the fields and hear the familiar voices of the villagers in her mind.
The sudden pang of homesickness took her by surprise, a longing for the life she left behind, for the comfort of her mother’s embrace, but just as quickly as the feeling came, it was overshadowed by another thought—Marcus.
The thought of him sent a strange shiver through her, a feeling both comforting and terrifying. Her heart squeezed at the thought, the uncertainty of her own feelings swirling inside her. She had never felt this way before, this drawn to someone in such a consuming way.
How much would I give up for him?
“What’s amiss, Annabeth?” Elena asked.
“It’s nothing, Elena. Thank ye for yer help. I think I should rest.”
“Very well. Goodnight.”
As the door closed, Annabeth knew it terrified her how much she might sacrifice for Marcus, and yet, there was no denying it—something in her soul yearned to be close to him, to belong with him, no matter the cost.