Chapter 13
Moira stared at the man she loved, wondering if she loved him at all. He was impassive.
“Ye dinnae mean that. Ye cannae mean that,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion.
“Why nae? There haes been a long-standing rivalry between our clans. I pushed him hard in our negotiations. Maybe he didnae like how I treated him. Yer family haes a history with poisons. Yer uncle Roderick used them, and I know Marcas spent a lot of time with him growing up. Marcas could hae learned from him. He could hae done something at the wedding or?—”
“How dare ye!” Moira growled. She was smaller than him, yet in that moment, she felt as tall as a giant and she was as intimidating as a dragon.
Her hands curled into tight balls, and her eyes blazed with fury.
“Marcas haes never been anything but kind tae ye! He could hae refused ye at any turn and kept things the way they hae always been between our clans, but he didnae. He gave ye what ye wanted for the sake of peace. He gave ye me! Are ye sae angry that ye would blame him?”
“He’s a Monroe,” Niall said with a dramatic sweep of his hand. “I think ye think tae highly of yer brother.”
“I’m a Monroe tae.”
“Ye are a Calbraith now.”
“Aye, maybe in name, but by blood, I’m a Monroe and I always will be.
I am nae gaeing tae stand here and listen tae ye accuse my brother.
I came here for him, for our clans tae ensure peace.
I was sae scared, but when I met ye, I thought ye were lovely, and I thought we were falling in love. Maybe I was wrong.
This isnae a good look for ye, Niall. I dinnae like the man I am seeing. Does peace mean nothing? Does the future mean nothing? Are ye gaeing tae be sae quick tae condemn a man without even knowing him?”
“I know enough,” Niall sneered.
“Oh aye? Dae ye really? Because if ye really knew Marcas then ye would know he detests poisons after what happened. He never liked them because of what happened tae our mother, and especially nae after what happened tae him. His wife was thrown in jail, and he almost died because of Roderick. Why would he want tae follow in Roderick’s footsteps? ”
“I dinnae know...maybe he hates the fact that I asked for yer hand?” Niall offered.
Moira’s heart swelled with anger, and she shook her head vehemently.
“Marcas would never put me in danger like that. If he did this, how could he be sure that I wouldnae be poisoned? Ye are nae making any sense.
If ye truly think the Monroes are this duplicitous, then how can ye be married tae me?
Next thing is ye’ll be accusing me as well,” Moira said, laughing incredulously, “I bet ye are gaeing tae suggest that I’m working with him.
” Her words descended into laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation, but when she looked at Niall, she noticed he wasn’t laughing.
In fact, he had a strange look on his face, one that she didn’t like at all. It seemed as though he was actually considering this as a possibility. The color drained from Moira’s face. She placed her hands on her hips, staring at him intensely.
“Ye are thinking it, aren’t ye?!” she shrieked.
“I’m the laird. I hae tae think of every possibility,” he said quietly, numbly.
“Aye, sae ye would rather believe that yer wife haes been lying tae ye rather than in spirits. I see how this is. Well, I’m nae gaeing tae be a part of this. I hae seen how secrets and lies hae torn a family apart.
I haed tae watch my ma die because she drank the wrong thing, and then I haed tae fear for my brother as well.
I would never use poison. And if ye think I could, then maybe there is no hope for us at all.
If ye are still gaeing tae be suspicious, then this marriage is nae gaeing tae work.
I cannae love a man who thinks I would be capable of something like this. ”
Without saying anything else, Moira spun on her heels and stormed out of the room in a flurry of sorrow and tears. Her last vision was of Niall standing in the room, a man left alone with his thoughts and suspicions, looking forlorn and lost.
Moira’s footsteps were heavy as she stormed through the castle.
The maids and servants smiled when they saw her, but when they became aware of the look on her face, they turned away, afraid of feeling the brunt of her wrath.
It was highly likely that the whole castle had heard some of her confrontation with Niall as their voices had been raised, but she didn’t care.
If Niall wanted to lead them back into the darkness of suspicion, then so be it.
But how could he think these things of her?
It didn’t make sense after all they had shared.
Was there something deep inside them that would prevent them from trusting each other?
Was there something between the Calbraiths and the Monroes that meant the clans would always be at war with each other?
If so, that didn’t bode well for Moira’s future. She had started to dream of a life here, one filled with happiness and joy, but that started to become murky and vague. The images were being dispelled, as though they too were being poisoned. Moira stopped for a moment and leaned against a wall.
She arched her body and choked out a few sobs.
The last time she had felt this much pain was during the whole ordeal with Roderick.
At the time, she had sworn she would never feel anything like that again, but clearly, it wasn’t as simple as that.
The stone wall was cold against her palm.
Nearby, a door led outside the castle. Beyond that were the dark forests and roads—roads that led back to a home she was familiar with, a home where she knew she was loved, a home that had her friends and her family.
A home where nothing like this could ever happen to her. In a flurry of tears, she berated Marcas for ever sending her out here. She had been happy at home and content with her life. There was nothing she wanted for, but then she had to be sent to this forsaken place.
There was a bitter taste on her tongue as her gaze lingered on the door. Even though it was late, it would have been so easy to sneak out and leave this place behind, to run to Marcas and tell him all what was happening and how Niall had been so quick to accuse them.
But Moira was intelligent enough to know what would happen next.
Marcas would be angry at the dishonorable way Niall had acted, and would rouse his forces to teach Niall some respect.
Even if Moira didn’t tell Marcas the reason why she returned home, it was likely that Niall would attack, as fleeing now would draw suspicion to her and Niall might well think himself correct in the assumption that this had all been some nefarious scheme by the Monroe clan.
Either way, there would be war, and that wasn’t why Moira had been sent here. She was supposed to be a harbinger of peace, and she was determined to live up to that.
Despite Niall being one of the most difficult and stubborn men she had ever met, she could not deny the feelings for him that existed in her heart.
They were married and had taken sacred vows. These could not be dismissed easily. She had to try and fix this and figure out what was happening, even if Niall was happy to point fingers at whoever had wronged him in the past.
She turned and made her way to the library, deciding not to flee on this night.
The library was located in one of the deepest parts of the castle. The walls were old and cracked, and there was a chill in the air as she receded deeper into the darkness. The torch she carried illuminated the surroundings in a dancing amber glow, beating back the musty, dusty ambiance.
Since it was so late at night, there was nobody in the library with her. She breathed softly and fought the fear that prickled in her mind. If there was ever a place for spirits to rise, then it would be in a place like this, a room filled with ancient tomes where few ever stepped.
Moira pressed her lips together and gulped away the lump in her throat as she held the torch proudly in front of her and walked through the shelves of books.
Unlike Niall, she wasn’t ready to dismiss Grizel’s worries, so she gathered Grizel’s notes and settled at a nearby table.
She lit a couple of candles with the torch and focused on the notes.
They were scrawled and difficult to read. They weren’t organized at all either. Moira pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, knowing that making her way through these scattered notes was going to occupy her entire night.
But at least it would serve to keep her mind off Niall. She shook her head when she thought of her husband, and then got to work.
The notes ranged between various topics. Occasionally, Moira had to leaf through a good chunk of pages before she got back to notes on the spirits of the forest. Grizel had written old stories about them and made notes on their nature.
The spirits used to be playful and kind. They had the forest to themselves and never knew anything of fear or death, but then the first men came. Men did as men always do, try to take more and more.
They began to hunt and chopped down the forest to make homes and weapons. They brought with them noise and bluster, disrupting the natural harmony of the land. Spirits did not take kindly to this. Men took what they wanted without asking permission or paying respect.
The spirits saw everything crumble around them. At first they hid themselves away, assuming that the men would pass like a storm, but the men did not leave.
They stayed and grew and took more and more from the land without giving anything back, and then more men came. The spirits watched with worry as they saw the world they knew become irrevocably changed.
Their playful nature was suddenly absent. A deep anger burned within them, and their nature changed because of men. They became vicious and violent. They haunted the forests, driving men away, but even the spirits could not stop the relentless march of men.