Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Arianna made her way down the narrow stone corridor that led to the weaving chamber, keeping her pace calm and steady.
The quiet hum of spinning wheels reached her ears long before she stepped through the archway.
Inside, the castle’s wool weavers worked at their looms, threads of soft grey and cream stretching tightly across wooden frames.
The room smelled faintly of wool and wax, and the steady clacking of the looms filled the air like a gentle rhythm.
One of the older women looked up as Arianna entered and dipped her head respectfully. “Good morning to ye, me Lady.”
“Good morning,” Arianna replied with a small smile as she approached the nearest loom.
The women paused their work, curious but welcoming.
“What brings ye to the weaving room today?” another asked, pushing a loose strand of hair from her brow.
Arianna clasped her hands lightly in front of her. “I was wondering if ye might have a wee bit of spare cloth?”
The women exchanged quick glances.
“For mending, perhaps?” the first asked.
“Aye,” Arianna said smoothly. “I’ve a small need for it.”
One of the younger girls hurried to a basket near the wall and pulled out a folded length of undyed wool. She carried it over carefully and held it out. “Should this serve well enough, me Lady?”
Arianna accepted it gratefully. “Thank ye kindly.”
The older woman smiled warmly. “If ye need more, ye need only ask.”
“I appreciate that,” Arianna said before turning to leave.
Once outside the weaving room, she continued down the corridor, her heart beating slightly faster now. When she reached a quiet bend in the passage, she slipped her hand into the hidden pocket within her skirts.
The folded parchment rested there. She drew it out briefly and scanned the list she had written the night before.
Map. Cloth. Food. Water. A sturdy sack. Perhaps a small dirk if she could manage it.
Her gaze lingered on the final line. Horse.
Arianna folded the parchment again and returned it to its hiding place. A small knot of tension tightened in her stomach. The kitchens would be next.
If she meant to travel to Castle McDonald alone, she would need supplies enough for the journey. She smoothed the cloth under her arm and continued walking. Soon, the warm scent of roasting meat and fresh bread drifted through the corridor ahead. The castle kitchens were already alive with noise.
Servants bustled from table to hearth carrying bowls, baskets, and wooden spoons. The large hearth fire crackled fiercely while two boys hauled in bundles of firewood. Pots simmered, knives chopped, and the air rang with the lively chatter of cooks and helpers.
Arianna stepped carefully around a maid carrying a tray of bread. The cook stood near the main table, a large man with flour dusting his sleeves as he kneaded dough with powerful hands. He looked up and grinned when he spotted her.
“Me Lady! What brings ye to this chaos?” he bowed deeply.
Arianna smiled politely. “I wondered if ye might have a spare sack.”
The cook paused mid-knead. “A sack?”
The word hung suspiciously in the air. Arianna felt the flicker of unease but kept her expression calm.
“Aye,” she said lightly. “I need it for …me pet rabbit.”
The cook blinked. “For the rabbit?”
“Aye,” she continued smoothly.
“Ahh, the wee creature,” he chuckled. He wiped his hands on a cloth and turned toward a wooden crate near the wall. Reaching inside, he pulled out a rough burlap sack that still held several potatoes.
“Here we are.” He tipped the sack upside down, dumping the potatoes onto the table with a dull thud before handing it to her. “This should do nicely.”
Arianna accepted it with a grateful nod. “Thank ye.”
The cook waved a hand dismissively. “Think nothing of it, me Lady.”
She tucked the folded cloth and the sack neatly against her arm. Arianna slipped back out of the bustling kitchen, the noise fading behind her as she reentered the quiet corridor. But now her nerves prickled slightly.
Had the cook looked at me strangely? Had the weavers wondered why I needed cloth?
Her mind began to churn with uneasy possibilities. Perhaps people were beginning to notice. Arianna slowed her pace deliberately, forcing herself to breathe evenly. She must act normal. Nothing must appear unusual.
With careful steps, she returned to her chamber, glancing only once over her shoulder before slipping inside and closing the door.
The quiet of the room settled around her like a protective cloak.
Arianna crossed quickly to the small chest near her bed and lifted the lid.
Inside lay the map she had taken from the library.
She added the folded cloth beside it. Then she placed the empty sack on top.
For a moment, she simply stared down at the small collection of items.
A map. Cloth for carrying provisions. A sack to hold everything together.
It was not much. But it was a beginning. Arianna closed the chest gently and rested her hand on the lid. Her heart beat faster as the reality of her plan took firmer shape in her mind.
Soon she would gather food. Soon she would prepare a horse. And when the time was right… She would ride for Castle McDonald herself.
With a wounded heart, I do this, but I must think of me family.
Evening settled slowly over the castle, and Arianna stood near the narrow window of her chamber watching the last light fade beyond the hills. Melissa folded linens in the sitting room.
Arianna thought about her own behavior. It weighed heavily on her thoughts. She had wandered the corridors too often these past days, asking for odd items and avoiding conversation when she could.
If anyone suspects I plan to leave the castle in secret, me path would be blocked before I ever reach the gates.
She straightened slowly and turned from the window.
“Very well then. I shall behave normally, and like a loyal wife,” she muttered. “Though me heart wishes that I daenae have to stoop to such behavior. Why can we nae be a true bond?”
Tonight, she would attend supper in the Great Hall beside Ian like the proper Lady of the clan. If she must play a part to protect her plans, she would perform it well enough that no one questioned her.
“Melissa?”
“Aye, me Lady,” Melissa entered the bed chamber.
“I wish to dress for supper. I shall need me best dress, the blue one, and me hair shall be braided,” Arianna said.
“As ye wish, me Lady,” Melissa began to gather the clothing.
Determination settled into Arianna's chest, though dread lingered beneath it.
She moved to the small mirror near her desk and began the process of dressing carefully for the evening meal.
She chose a gown of deep blue wool, simple yet elegant enough for the high table.
Melissa's fingers worked slowly as she fastened the ties.
When she finally lifted her gaze to the mirror, she paused.
The woman staring back at her looked unfamiliar.
Her eyes were shadowed with worry, and a tension lingered around her mouth that had not been there weeks ago.
Once, she had looked forward to these evenings, eager to sit beside Ian.
Now the thought of being near him filled her with uneasy dread simply because she felt he could see through her.
She feared the man she could not fully trust. And yet she longed for him all the same. Arianna closed her eyes briefly before straightening her shoulders.
I will endure it because I must. No matter how much it hurts.
Moments later, the heavy doors of the Great Hall opened, and she stepped inside.
The room burst with the usual life of the clan.
Tankards struck against wooden tables as warriors drank and laughed loudly.
Servants hurried between benches carrying platters piled high with roasted meat and fresh bread.
Yet when Arianna crossed the threshold, the noise seemed to dim within her ears. Her heart beat faster as she walked through the hall.
Do they ken me plans?
For a fleeting moment, she felt as though every eye turned toward her. The sensation left her strangely exposed, as if the secret of her plans were written plainly across her face. She forced herself to keep walking calmly.
At the far end of the hall, the high table stood upon the dais. Ian was already seated there speaking with two councilmen. The moment Arianna saw him, her pulse quickened sharply.
Two feelings clashed within her. Fear. And longing.
She remembered the man who had kissed her. The man who had taught her to chop wood. She remembered the warmth of his hands guiding hers as she learned.
For a moment, she wondered if that man had ever truly existed. Arianna climbed the steps of the dais and moved to her seat beside him. Outwardly, she appeared composed. Inside, her nerves trembled.
She lowered herself into the chair, painfully aware of his presence beside her.
Does he suspect anything?
Ian turned slightly toward her. “Good evening,” he said cautiously.
Arianna folded her hands in her lap. “Aye… good evening.”
The councilmen continued their discussion, though both Arianna and Ian seemed only half attentive. A strained silence lingered between them.
They were performing normalcy. Nothing more.
Soon, servants arrived carrying platters of roasted venison, boiled turnips, and fresh loaves of bread. Tankards of ale were set along the table as the meal began.
As Arianna reached for a piece of bread, her hand brushed briefly against Ian’s. The contact sent a sharp pulse of warmth up her arm. She withdrew quickly.
Beneath the table, their arms nearly touched again as they shifted in their seats. She could feel the heat of his body beside her, close enough that the scent of leather and wood smoke clung faintly in the air.
Her heart fluttered painfully. She remembered the first time he had kissed her. The memory hurt.
“The gardens looked well today,” Ian said quietly.
“Aye,” Arianna replied. “The roses have begun to bloom.”
Arianna shifted in her seat. Playing the dutiful wife was harder than she expected. With Ian so near, she craved to touch him, to give in. She desperately wanted to trust his words that he knew nothing about the clause in the contract. That betraying her family was not some strategy.
A moment later, Ian spoke again, “Flynn says Melissa grows tired quickly now.”
“A bairn will do that,” Arianna said.
“Aye,” he said, “a bairn. Tis a blessing.”
Each word felt careful and restrained, but speaking of a child made her heart ache. She should be on the way to welcoming her own child, but now the thought only gave her fear. A child had become a negotiating tool between the two clans, and her family was not aware of that fact.
She pushed the food around her plate, lost in her thoughts. At one point, Ian glanced toward her plate. “Have ye eaten enough?”
His tone held quiet concern. The kindness struck her far more deeply than anger might have.
“Aye, I have,” she said.
He cares if I eat? If he truly cared, how could he have hidden the truth?
A heaviness settled in her chest, and she held back tears. She regretted the decision to eat in the great hall. Being near Ian without spouting arguing words at each other made her feelings twist into knots. It was far more difficult to think of him as a traitor when he was being kind.
A servant set another dish between them, and as Ian and Arianna both reached to steady the platter, his hand briefly touched hers.
Heat moved through her hand. It sent a shiver up her arm. The touch lasted only a heartbeat. He withdrew quickly. But the warmth lingered. She dared not risk looking at him, or he would see the confusion in her eyes.
Her body remembered him. And her heart ached.
While Ian turned to answer a question from one of the councilmen, Arianna watched him quietly.
His brow furrowed slightly over his eyepatch as he spoke, his voice calm and steady as always.
She realized with sudden clarity that she had truly wanted to be his wife.
Not merely in name. Not merely as part of a political arrangement.
She had wanted the life they had begun to build together. Grief pressed tightly against her ribs.
Around them, the meal continued as normal. Arianna forced herself to smile now and then, answering a passing remark so that no one noticed her silence. She had to hide her turmoil.
At last, she glanced once more toward Ian. He sat close enough that she could still feel the warmth of his presence. Yet he felt farther away than ever. And a quiet thought settled painfully in her heart.
Soon I may leave this castle forever, and a piece of me desperately wishes I daenae have to.