Chapter 15
The castle breathed differently this morning, its occupants tense and uneasy.
Every servant moved too quickly through the corridors, every guard wore a harder expression than usual, their hands never straying far from their weapons.
And along with the fear that spread through the halls like wildfire, there was also another thing.
Gossip.
There had been an assassination attempt on the Laird and everyone knew it now.
The first time it had happened, there had been only whispers that hadn’t even reached River, not properly at least, until she had finally asked.
They had managed to keep it more or less a secret, and everyone thought the had been in an accident.
Now there was no talk of accident. Now all everyone was talking about was the assassination attempt.
At least no one knew of Archer’s memory loss yet, it seemed. River had heard no mention of it among the servants or the nobles.
That morning, she sat at the edge of her bed for a long moment, staring at the pale light stretching across the stone floors.
She thought back to the floor in Archer’s room, how it was stained with blood.
She remembered seeing it on the carpet, thick and dark and congealed, a reminder of everything Archer had been through.
She had not slept much after the healers finally forced her from his chambers. Even then, she had remained awake listening for footsteps in the corridor, half-expecting another attack before sunrise, though she knew the halls were filled with twice as many guards now.
As she sat there, a soft knock came at her door and Layla entered without waiting for permission, her curls hastily tied back for once, as if she had had no time this morning to do a proper braid.
“It’s everywhere already,” she said quietly.
River exhaled slowly. “Of course it is.”
“They’re sayin’ the assassin got inside the eastern wing unnoticed.”
River rose immediately, a thought occurring to her that she hadn’t considered before.
She had been so preoccupied with Archer and his health that she hadn’t realized the children would be dragged into this as well with all the gossip.
She didn’t want them to fear. She didn’t want them to hear about this and worry that something terrible would happen.
“The bairns,” she said. “We should...they shouldnae hear of this.”
Layla nodded once in agreement as fear settled cold and sharp in River’s chest. Arya was observant enough to notice the tension in the castle immediately.
Colby would overhear servants talking within minutes if no one intervened.
The last thing River wanted was for either of them to start fearing shadows in their own home.
She dressed quickly and crossed the east wing before breakfast was served.
It wasn’t like her to get out of bed so early or to visit Finlay in his chambers, but now there she was, doing just that.
When she knocked, Finlay answered the door still fastening the cuff of his sleeve, looking mildly surprised to see her so early, but his expression changed immediately when he saw her face.
“What happened? Another attack?”
“Nay, nay,” said River, shaking her head. She couldn’t imagine how there could possibly be a third one so close to the second one, but Finlay seemed ready to grab his sword and throw himself in the middle of whatever fight he was envisioning. “I need ye to do somethin’ for me.”
Finlay folded his arms. “Anythin’.”
“Keep Arya and Colby here today. Daenae let them wander the castle. Daenae let servants gossip in front of them if ye can help it.”
Finlay nodded slowly, understanding her immediately. “Ye daenae want them hearin’ about it.”
River shook her head. “They’ve already seen enough fear.”
River wanted to keep them as far from it as possible.
They had experienced too much in their small ages already.
They had lost all their innocence when they had witnessed their mother being murdered right in front of their eyes not so long ago.
This could be enough to destroy them emotionally, and River didn’t want any mentions of death or attacks around them.
“I’ll keep them occupied,” Finlay promised her. “And ye...be careful.”
“Thank ye, Finlay,” said River with a small smile as she reached for his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Daenae fash about me. I’m nae the target.”
“How can ye be so sure?”
“I would’ve been attacked already if I were,” she said. It didn’t make sense to her that someone would be after her when they had only tried to hurt Archer. “And besides, there are so many guards around now. Naethin’ will happen to me.”
“Honestly,” Finlay said dryly, “stayin’ hidden in the eastern wing with two bairns sounds far preferable to whatever madness is happenin’ out there.”
Despite herself, River smiled faintly. “Ye may regret sayin’ that after an hour alone with Colby.”
“I survived three younger brothers. I’ll manage.”
River’s chest eased slightly at that. She trusted Finlay with the children, of course. Not only had he raised her alongside with her governesses, but he was also good with them both. When he wasn’t trying to pretend he was a grumpy old man, he even played with them.
As she turned to leave, Finlay’s voice stopped her.
“River.”
She glanced back just as his expression grew more serious, a worried frown clouding his features.
“Ye should be careful today. Truly.”
River’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”
“People are frightened. Frightened people always need someone to blame, and they were already talkin’ about ye.”
River froze. It hadn’t occurred to her that people would blame her for this just as Keir did. Could it be that they thought she was responsible? Could it be that everyone suspected she was the one behind the attacks?
But how could I be? I couldnae have harmed him meself and I hardly ever talk to anyone other than Finlay and Layla.
“I’ll be careful,” she promised him regardless, and his words stayed with her long after she left.
By midday, she understood exactly what he meant.
Servants lowered their eyes too quickly and nobles watched her from corners with poorly disguised suspicion.
A pair of council members fell abruptly silent when she passed near them in the southern corridor.
And still, River kept her head high, though she could feel the shift in the air, the disinterest that had quickly turned into doubt, into suspicion. She was an outsider, a woman from another clan, a woman whose mother had been killed and their Laird had done nothing to stop it.
A woman who had probable cause to hurt him.
Layla noticed it too, and the first time a noblewoman openly stared at River with thinly veiled accusation, she glared so fiercely the woman nearly tripped over herself fleeing the corridor.
It didn’t seem to matter to her whether or not someone was above her in status; all that mattered was protecting her lady from the vitriol.
River sighed quietly. Though she appreciated the gesture, she doubted it would do Layla any good to antagonise the nobles.
“Ye cannae threaten every person who looks at me strangely.”
“I absolutely can.”
“That woman was old and harmless. It’s natural for them to suspect me.”
“And yet it’s still irritatin’.”
River couldn’t disagree with that. In favt, irritating seemed like an understatement. But what surprised her more were the people who did not look away—those who at first seemed too brazen, too comfortable in their accusations, until River realized they were not judging her.
They were supporting her, even quietly. A stable hand bowed respectfully as she crossed the courtyard, while two kitchen servants defended her openly near the stairs, insisting she had been tending to Archer herself while the healers worked.
Even some guards nodded to her without hesitation, and this newfound acceptance startled her.
Not long ago, most of this castle ignored her presence, and now some of them were defending her.
Perhaps it was all because she had stopped hiding herself away.
Perhaps it was all because they had seen her with the children, and they had seen her helping during council matters.
They had seen her sitting beside Archer instead of shrinking from him.
They had seen her trying.
“Are they...defendin’ me?” she asked Layla a little hesitantly as they passed by a couple of maids in the courtyard who were once again arguing in her favor.
“Aye, me lady, they are,” said Layla with a bright smile. “The people love ye. Why would they nae defend ye?”
“They do?”
It was the first time River had heard of such a thing, but it warmed something in her chest to know the people liked her—even loved her, as Layla claimed. It turned out that her efforts had, indeed, paid off, and besides, she would rather have the people by her side rather than the clansmen.
By afternoon, River finally made her way toward the Great Hall, where she knew she would find Archer. The moment she entered, she found him immediately in his usual seat at the far end, surrounded by his men, his chin resting on his hand as he stared idly at them.
He was exhausted, his eyes ringed with dark circles. He looked like he was paying attention, but River could see that he was in pain from the way his brow had furrowed, and she wondered if that was truly the best place for him to be when he was meant to be recovering.
Did Jenson know about this, she wondered?
Flanked as he was by his men and dressed in black, he seemed like a rock in the ocean. The bandage wrapped around his head disappeared partially under his dark hair, though she could already see fresh bruising shadowing his temple.
He didn’t just look exhausted; he looked dangerous, and the entire hall seemed aware of it. But when his gaze found hers across the crowded room, something in his expression softened instantly, and River crossed directly to him, with no hesitation.
“How are ye feelin’?” she asked quietly.