Chapter 8
It took her at least fifteen minutes to find the Feast Hall, which was where Megan had been told that breakfast would be served.
Her room, right at the bottom of the tower as she’d been told, was warm and comfortable and well-decorated. Rugs were covering the cold stone flags, and tapestries hung on the walls, which made her think that Ryder’s spartan, bare room was done that way out of choice.
She could still see the room in her head when she closed her eyes—a blank canvas of a room, with only the blackened stones of the hearth and the crumpled bedsheets to show that it was lived in at all.
Enough, she scolded herself, hearing voices and setting off at a trot toward the Feast Hall. Daenae think about his room.
She didn’t want to think about Ryder at all.
He was infuriating, annoying, insufferable, and all the other synonyms she could think of.
She did not like him. She did not. He had kicked her unceremoniously out of the room and closed the door behind her.
It had hurt, and not just a plain sort of outraged hurt.
He hadn’t even hesitated. Did he not want her there at all?
She folded her arms tightly, the corners of her mouth tugging down.
He made me feel small and silly and so very unwanted. Like a younger sister, the one nobody thinks about.
She sighed, closing her eyes.
Ye shouldnae have called him a monster to his own sister, chirped a small and annoying voice at the back of her mind. He is only tryin’ to keep her safe, and ye ken that.
She gritted her teeth against the logical voice and forced herself to step into the Feast Hall.
Like all dining halls in Keeps of this size, the room was colossal. The ceiling swooped away; the walls shot off to either side. Huge windows let in constant drafts, so that the hem of Megan’s grass-stained skirt shivered as she walked.
A fireplace big enough to roast an entire cow sat in the corner, with a fire already burning even at that hour of the morning. The space was dominated, of course, by a huge table, half as wide as her room and much longer, with long benches running along either side.
Four places were set at the top of the table, and Megan walked the length of the room toward it. A cluster of guards stood at a respectful distance. She didn’t recognize any of the men who’d been on guard outside Alaina’s room.
Alaina herself was reading a book, the tome propped up behind her plate. Sophie balanced on her knee, munching on a piece of bread.
Ryder himself sat at the head of the table. As Laird, that was undoubtedly his place at every meal. He sat in a heavy wooden chair—a throne, really—and tapped his fingertips on the armrest. He didn’t say anything, but she felt his eyes on her as she approached.
Sophie glanced up when she heard Megan’s footsteps and immediately brightened.
“Good mornin’, Megan!” she chirped. “Was yer bed comfortable?”
“Very comfortable, thank ye,” Megan responded.
Alaina and Sophie’s places were set side by side, and hers was clearly the place across the table, at Ryder’s right hand.
Ryder was still looking at her, but Megan was determined not to give him any attention.
So, she flashed a smile at the girls instead.
“Did ye two sleep well?”
Sophie nodded eagerly. Alaina tore her eyes briefly from her book, giving a nod and a half-hearted grunt.
“What did ye dream of?” Megan asked, helping herself to a slice of bread and cheese. “Me Ma used to say that dreams meant somethin’.”
“Dreams? Yer Ma is a wee bit insane, then,” Ryder commented. “If I have a dream that I am bein’ chased by a giant cabbage that wants to eat me, what does that mean? Do I have a deep-seated fear of vegetables?”
“If ye dream that ye are bein’ chased,” Megan shot back, “I’d argue that ye fell asleep worried about somethin’. Somethin’ that ye feel ye cannae avoid.”
There was a brief silence. Alaina spoke up, never looking up from her book.
“I think she could be right there, braither.”
Ryder huffed in annoyance and said no more. Megan glanced back at the girls and lifted her eyebrows.
“I dreamt of ye, Megan,” Sophie volunteered. “I dreamt that ye were runnin’ in the woods, fast as anythin’, and that all the animals were yer friends.”
Megan had to smile at that. “That feels a wee bit too accurate there, Sophie. I’m sure I’ve done that many, many times.”
Sophie grinned happily and nudged her sister. “What about ye, Alaina?”
Alaina’s jaw tightened. She closed her book with a resounding snap and lifted her eyes to glare at her brother.
“I dreamt of freedom.”
The air seemed to tighten. The corners of Ryder’s mouth pulled down in a frown. He glowered at his sister, who returned his glare with just as much venom.
Abruptly, he brought his fist down on the table, hard enough to make the crockery rattle.
“Enough,” he snapped, voice ringing out.
Alaina did not flinch. She didn’t even bat an eyelid, but Sophie shivered, ducking her head.
Megan clenched her jaw. She stared at Ryder until he felt the tickle of her gaze and finally glanced her way.
“Best not to be so loud or sharp at this hour of the mornin’,” she said, her voice clipped and pointed. She let her eyes dart over to where Sophie sat shivering. “Some people daenae like it.”
Some of the anger drained out of Ryder’s face. He cleared his throat, shifting almost uncomfortably, and sat back in his seat.
“I daenae like all this talk of dreams. They mean nothin’,” he stated.
“Your opinion is not a solid fact, braither,” Alaina snapped. “Nor is it the only opinion in the world.”
Megan bit her lip, wondering if it would be too much to inch her hand forward over the table as if to take Alaina’s hand. It was too far anyway. She’d have to crawl across and stretch full length to do that, which really felt like overkill.
“Yer braither means well, Alaina,” she said quietly. “He may feel overbearin’, but it’s because he cares for ye. He is tryin’ to protect ye.”
Alaina stared at her, startled. “I thought ye were on me side!”
“I am on the fair side. And ye must not lose sight of the fact that he loves ye. He truly does, Alaina.”
She snorted, shaking her head. “I daenae want him to worry. But I also want an ordinary life. Is that a crime? All the other lasses me age have…”
“Other lasses daenae run the risk of bein’ snatched away from their homes,” Ryder interrupted tartly. “Other lasses are nae worth a king’s ransom. The threat of kidnap…”
“But I havenae been kidnapped!”
“And why do ye think that is?” Ryder snapped, leaning forward. “Ye are kept safe because of me precautions, lass. Make nay mistake. I willnae relax me security measures, nay matter what ye or Megan says.”
Alaina slumped back in her seat, pressing her lips together in a thin line. She shot a quick, apologetic glance at Megan.
She kens that we’re on the same side. That’s good.
There was an awkward silence, stretching out for a few moments, before Megan risked speaking again. She cleared her throat, shifting in her seat.
“I’d like to send letters to me sisters, Ryder. Just so they ken I’m safe.”
He nodded listlessly. His place was full of food, but she could see that he’d barely touched it, and instead of eating it, he just pushed it around his plate.
“Aye, ye should tell yer sisters where ye are,” Alaina muttered. “If ye wander around without their say-so, they might come and take ye captive too. One captivity a week is surely enough.”
“Alaina,” Ryder muttered in a warning tone. She met his gaze steadily and lifted her eyebrows.
“Aye?” she questioned defiantly.
Ryder was too tired to fight. Megan could see it on his face. If he weren’t so insufferable, perhaps she would feel sorry for him. There were purplish semicircles hanging under his eyes.
She’d heard footsteps outside her door during the night, neither lingering nor running, and had assumed that it was a guard patrolling.
Her door locked securely from the inside—no outside locks on her door—and so she hadn’t worried too much about it.
People were always coming and going at all hours in a keep.
But what if it was Ryder? Would he really have paced the halls all night to keep his sister safe?
Sisters, she reminded herself. Just because Sophie is nae a target doesnae mean that she is safe. They might choose to steal away another sister, or perhaps decide that two is better than one. If this idea has occurred to me, then it will surely have occurred to Ryder.
She watched him smother a yawn and drink back a mouthful of ale.
Imagine if he did stay up all night, patrollin’, only to have Alaina throw his worry back in his face and brush it away. That really isnae fair.
It was too late to say anything now, not without sacrificing the progress she’d made with Alaina.
It was pretty clear that Alaina was angry.
She felt helpless, and probably a little scared by it.
She resented her brother, whom she blamed for her lack of freedom, without looking beyond his measures.
Surely she couldn’t be oblivious to the danger she was in?
I should talk to her about it sometime. I’d like to hear Alaina’s point of view on this attempted kidnapping.
Not now, of course. Now, they had to get through breakfast. Megan poured herself a cup of milk and took a long sip, trying to think of something to say next.
The silence fell heavily across the table, with neither Ryder nor Alaina willing to break it.
Even Sophie, normally so chatty, seemed unwilling to speak much.
Footsteps echoed, and they all glanced up at the same time to see Ewan approaching, striding confidently through the Hall.
Oh, thank heavens, Megan thought, biting back a giddy smile. Company.
Ewan didn’t look particularly stern or grim, so she could be reasonably comfortable that whatever news he brought was not bad news.
“What is it, Ewan?” Ryder asked, picking up a small piece of bread from his plate and popping it in his mouth.