Chapter 21
The townspeople who watched Bree and her companions pass through the gates followed and were joined on the way by more groups of curious bystanders. None said anything, not to the homecoming party, but whispered and chattered amongst themselves.
Bree didn’t know where to look. Her gaze tried to take in everything, the people, their clothes, their expressions, curious, wary, but overall, happy.
The high parapets were lined by soldiers, and while she couldn’t see their expressions, by their countenance, they were relaxed and happily chatted to one another.
The castle loomed in front of them, sending her gaze into the sky. She wanted to stop at the well in the middle of the square, but Horland tugged at her arm and kept her moving with the group.
Horland and Garlain nodded in greeting as they passed people they knew, and Kieri waved and called out to her friends, but Morla kept her gaze forward as she strode majestically through the streets.
“Garlain! Garlain!” a young woman shouted as she pushed through the crowd, hurrying toward the group.
Garlain stopped and waited for the woman as she finally made her way to him.
He held open his arms and she crashed into his chest, holding his massive torso with all her might.
“Oh, Garlain, where have you been?” She gazed at Horland, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Thank you for bringing Garlain back to me.” She pushed her dark hair out of her eyes and leaned back to look Garlain in his eyes.
“Where have you been? I’ve been so worried. ”
“I’ll explain all.”
Bree hadn’t thought Garlain would have anyone waiting for him, and she was curious as to who the dark-haired beauty might be.
She frowned. From what she was told, he had been at the old ruins since he returned to his time.
Which meant he had left his home, so how could he have a relationship with another woman before he left for the ruins?
He seemed to be still grieving her mother’s death when she found him. It just didn’t make sense.
Bree raised her brow in question at Horland.
“That’s Simone, Garlain’s sister,” he said in a low voice.
“Oh,” was all Bree could think to say. She should have realized the young woman was Garlain’s sister. Why was she so quick to condemn the man?
Simone let her brother go and asked, “Where is Patricia and the child?”
Garlain glanced at Bree. “There is much to tell you, Simone.”
“But not now,” Morla said, indicating the crowd to Garlain with her eyes.
“Inside then,” Garlain said.
Morla narrowed her eyes at him. “The king will want to see us immediately.”
Garlain straightened his back. “The king will have to wait; Simone needs to know all.”
Bree smiled at Morla’s pout. That woman was one spoiled princess.
Without another word, Morla strode up the castle steps. Bree grinned at Horland and, placing his arm around her waist, he nodded. Along with Kieri, Garlain and Simone, they followed Morla.
Carson, the king’s man, opened the great doors and bowed before Princess Morla, all the while eyeing her companions.
Bree wondered at his age. He had gray hair, but he stood straight, and his broad shoulders showed strength in his physicality.
His eyes widened at the sight of Bree, but whatever he thought of her being there, he kept his opinions to himself.
Once they all trundled into the grand entrance, Carson said, “Wait here. I will let the king know of your return.”
Morla tipped her head back and held her chin high. “I can tell him.”
Carson eyed Morla with a look that said, You’ll do as I say.
Morla huffed. “So be it,” she said, flicking her hand in the direction of a walkway beside the grand stairs as if to tell him to go.
Bree put her hand over her mouth to stop the giggle rising from her chest. Carson had apparently dealt with Morla before—he’d probably had to keep her in line since she was an infant, and Bree admired the respect he elicited from Morla.
At least Bree thought Morla had great respect for the man, but as soon as his back was turned, the princess poked her tongue at him.
Bree giggled. Garlain berated, “Morla.” Simone stared at the princess in horror. And Horland just shook his head.
Morla turned to face Bree, a wide smile growing on her face. “I am long out of his schoolroom, but he still makes me feel like a misbehaving child.” She shrugged. “Flashing my tongue is the only way I feel like I’ve won the upper hand still.”
“But only when he’s not looking?” Bree said.
“Perhaps.”
Simone pulled on Garlain’s sleeve. “Tell me what happened.” She tipped her head to the side and looked at Bree. “And who is she?”
He sighed and clasped Bree’s hand and pulled her to his side. “Simone, what I am about to tell you will be hard for you to believe, but I need you to trust what I have to say is the truth.”
“I always trust you, brother.”
He glanced around as if to make sure there were no one to hear but still, he lowered his voice. “This is Briana. My daughter.”
“What?” Simone gasped. “Do you think this is the time to jest? Your daughter would only be a babe of one year, maybe a bit more, but much less than two years of age.”
“It’s true,” Morla said. “She travelled from the future to find her father and while it has been a long time for her—as you see, she’s grown—the time has not passed so long for us.”
Simone kinked her head at Morla. “You, I do not trust. Especially now that I know you have kept my brother prisoner these long months.”
“I wasn’t a prisoner,” Garlain said. “I was grieving, and I could no longer take the day-to-day goings and comings of the kingdom. I wanted to be alone.”
“But you had Morla with you,” Simone said.
Garlain glanced at Morla and shook his head. “Not by choice, sister, not by choice.”
“Oh now,” Morla said. “You would have died if it wasn’t for me. I kept you company when no other could, and remember, I saved you.”
“You did,” Garlain said, but turned his attention to his sister, who opened her mouth to speak.
Garlain placed his finger on her mouth. “There is more I must tell you but just know this: Patricia will always be in my heart.” He glanced at Bree.
“I have a daughter to think of now, a daughter who I am aggrieved to discover has grown into a beautiful young woman without her father.” He sucked in his lips.
“We have much to thank Mark and Dianne for. They stepped in when I couldn’t, and they made sure Briana and I would be reunited. ”
Simone looked at Bree and rubbed her eyes. “She looks like Patricia and Dianne, but she has your hair coloring.” She stepped closer to Bree and inspected her face. “I do believe you are related to Patricia, but her daughter? Garlain’s daughter? That I cannot believe.”
Carson returned and stood to attention. “King Pradwick.”
Garlain quickly whispered to his sister. “We will continue this at a later time.”
A man with dark, flowing hair and a royal beard one would imagine a fairytale prince wearing flung his gold and green embroidered cloak over his shoulder as he passed Carson and let out a low, long “Aah.”
His gaze passed over Simone, who dipped down in a curtsy. He took in Morla and Garlain.
“I am much pleased you have returned, Sir Garlain.”
“Your Majesty.” Garlain bowed low. “Thank you for persevering with me and allowing Princess Morla to attend me in my grief.”
“You are my Knight Commander,” the king said as if that explained his actions.
The king’s attention rested on Bree. He stroked his beard and smiled. “You have returned to your home.”
Bree glanced at the others then back to the king. Yes, his gaze was firmly planted on her. She widened her eyes in enquiry at him.
But before he could answer her unspoken question, Morla hugged him. “I missed you, Father.”
The king chuckled and after a quick hug pushed her from him. “I missed you too, daughter.” He stepped back and regarded them all. “Welcome home all. We will take refreshment in the great hall.”
He strode regally through another set of open wooden doors on the right.
As the others followed him, Bree stayed put, staring after him.
The great room was larger than the main room of her cousin and her husband’s castle in Scotland but held the same long tables all set vertically to the main table at the opposite end of the room.
That horizontal table, she guessed, was where the royal family sat.
Like Abby’s laird, the king would always want full view of the entire room.
The king and the rest of Bree’s party stood behind high-backed chairs.
Two other females, one a young blonde woman standing on the king’s right, and the other, a young dark-haired girl sitting on what looked to be a homemade wheelchair at the end of the table, were both regarding Bree and Horland with quizzical gazes.
Horland placed his arm around her shoulders. “It seems the king knows who you are.”
Bree rubbed her temples. “It sure looks that way, but how?”
Horland chuckled. “Mayhap, my love, we can find out if we sit at his table.”
The king kept standing and appeared to be waiting for Bree and Horland to join them.
Bree clicked her tongue. “I guess so.”
They hurried to two empty chairs opposite the king and sat down.
Garlain was on Bree’s left and Simone sat next to Garlain.
The king sat exactly opposite Bree, and the young woman sat on his right with Morla on his left, and the child not much older than Kieri sat at the end of the table.
Kieri took a spot on the end next to Horland, leaning close and whispering to the girl.
They giggled. The king threw them a hard stare, but nothing on his face showed he was in the least angry at the pair.
Serving men and women filled chalets of wine, some placing platters of meats, raw vegetables, and fruit in the middle of the long table.
The king waved his hand at the serving staff. “Leave us now.”
They bowed and curtsied and left post haste.