Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
The words reached Edith through the thick oak doors, and she stopped so abruptly that Violet nearly collided with her back.
Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of Aaron’s voice, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. The corridor suddenly felt too narrow, as though the stone walls might close in on her at any moment.
“Are ye alright?” Violet asked, but the words barely made it past the thick fog of thoughts that had clouded her mind.
’Tis really happenin’.
“Edith!” Violet’s voice rose slightly. She placed a hand on her shoulder, jolting her back into the present. “Are ye alright?”
Edith managed a nod. She was too distracted to give a proper response, barely able to tear her gaze away from the great doors that stood between her and her future.
Any moment now, they would swing open, and she would become the Laird’s betrothed.
Run.
The thought came suddenly, landing sharply in the back of her mind.
She could already hear the heavy footsteps of the guards as they approached from the other side, the sound faint beneath the wild pounding of her heart. Her fingers curled tightly into the folds of her skirt.
She could still leave. Except for Violet, there was no one else in the dark corridor. The kitchens were not too far back, and the west passage that led to the outer yard would likely be unguarded at this hour.
The thought tempted her for one reckless moment. If she moved quickly enough, no one would be able to stop her.
But where would she go?
The Highlands were notoriously unforgiving to women. She could hardly remember the road to her mother’s village in the Lowlands, but even if she did, they were less likely to accept her when she had nothing.
Winter would arrive within the month. Money did not fall from the skies, and kindness rarely lasted long for lowborn women with no family to protect them.
She had seen enough women wander into Hallow half-starved during the harsh seasons to know exactly what became of them. Some married cruel men to survive, and others simply disappeared without explanation.
She swallowed hard. If she really wanted to escape, she had to think fast.
She closed her eyes in an attempt to gather her thoughts, and Scarlett’s face flashed before her without warning.
The last time she stood outside these doors, her dearest friend had been the one to step into the Great Hall, sacrificing her freedom so that Edith could continue living freely at Hallow Castle.
Me dearest Scarlett.
Her hand rose instinctively to her chest as guilt twisted painfully through her.
“Forgive me,” she whispered beneath her breath. “I daenae think I can do it.”
The heavy doors suddenly shifted. She started slightly as the wood groaned against the stone floor, then stilled once more.
“Open the doors.”
The command rolled through the corridor like thunder, and her head lifted instinctively at Aaron’s voice.
If she was going to run, it had to be now.
She swallowed. Her fingers clenched tighter, her knuckles nearly turning white. But her feet would not move.
There was no home waiting for her, no family to return to, no place that would take her in without question.
All afternoon, she had convinced herself that this was a choice she had made. That it was all in her power, and she could refuse at any point without suffering any consequence.
But standing there now, with Aaron’s voice carrying through the doors, the truth finally sank in—she had never had a choice in the matter.
The great doors slowly began to part, golden firelight spilling into the darkened corridor where she stood.
One month.
Edith swallowed, straightened her back, and folded her trembling hands neatly in front of her.
One month, and I will be free.
Finally, the doors opened fully.
The hall stretched endlessly ahead of her, packed with clansmen, elders, servants, and councilmen, all staring at her in complete silence.
It was as though she were in a dream. The warm light bathed her entirely, baring her to their assessing gazes.
Her legs felt like jelly, as though they would give way if she tried to move. Her heart thumped violently against her ribs, threatening to jump out of her chest. Her throat tightened as her wide eyes swept across the crowd.
She had never had so many people watching her at once, and the sudden attention unnerved her more than she’d expected.
Her gaze found Aaron. He stood at the front of the hall, taller than everyone else.
His broad shoulders were straight, and his goblet was still raised from the toast he had made to her.
His expression was unreadable as he waited for her, and yet, somehow, his mere presence helped her breathe a bit more easily.
She swallowed, completely frozen as though she had forgotten what she was meant to do.
“Edith,” Violet whispered from beside her.
Edith nodded, coming back to herself.
I can do this.
She moved forward, one step at a time, holding her head high and keeping her back straight.
The murmurs began as soon as she crossed the threshold.
“Is that Edith?” one of the older maids close to the entrance whispered.
Another shook her head. “Nay, it cannae be. Edith is a lowborn.”
Lowborn.
Edith had first heard the word when she was seven—the daughter of a new maid from the Lowlands. A lowborn girl. It was a label that had grown with her, following her about like a stain even into adulthood. A label she would never be able to get rid of.
For fifteen years, she had lived in the castle with Scarlett while Aaron fought wars for the clan.
She had grown alongside his sister, lucky enough to be permitted lessons in etiquette, music, and court customs because Scarlett refused to attend without her.
But even the kindness of her best friend could not erase the truth.
At every gathering and celebration, Edith remained painfully aware of where she stood. Too educated for the servants, and too common for the nobles. Never truly belonging among either.
And now, somehow, she was expected to stand before the clan as the future Lady Hallow.
She released a soft breath. She could feel the weight of their scrutiny as she walked toward Aaron in his sister’s dress. The gown clung to her in a way she was not used to, fitted, elegant, and too revealing of a body she had always kept hidden beneath layers.
It was perfectly tailored in the clan colors. Colors she had never been able to wear, even though Clan Hallow was all she knew.
She resisted the urge to tug at her sleeves, suddenly aware of every inch of exposed skin. Noble ladies were raised for this sort of attention. She had spent most of her life trying to avoid it.
She felt bare, like an imposter. But still, she walked, focusing all of her attention on Aaron.
His gaze slid over her like heat, impossible to ignore.
He had seen her before. He had seen her covered in mud beside Scarlett in the gardens, and he had seen her laughing in the corridors. He often looked at her as though she were an inconvenience Scarlett had dragged into his life against his will.
But now, standing before the entire clan, his gaze lingered on her with an intensity she did not understand.
Warmth crawled slowly beneath her skin despite the fear tightening her chest, but she quickly brushed it aside.
’Tis all an act.
Aaron moved the moment she reached him, taking her hand firmly in his as his green eyes locked onto hers. His hand settled on her waist before she could steady herself, and his lips brushed softly against her cheek.
It was a brief moment, proper enough for the hall watching them, and yet a shiver skittered down her spine.
He straightened then, leaning in just enough so only she could hear. “Ye’re doing well,” he murmured.
Her breath caught.
The murmurs around them immediately grew louder. Several councilmen seemed stunned, while others exchanged dark looks. One elder nearly dropped his tankard.
“The Laird has lost his senses,” one of the men muttered from the other end of the high table.
“Or perhaps the lass trapped him,” another whispered, though his voice was not low enough.
Edith kept her gaze ahead, but every word stung. She had heard worse things said about women like her before. A lowborn woman could only rise through deceit, seduction, or pity, never merit. Yet the whispers burned her deeper this time.
Perhaps Aaron would finally reconsider this madness.
Her eyes flickered briefly toward him, but he did not so much as glance toward the source of the murmurs.
“Smile,” he said quietly. “And stay by me side.”
Edith took a deep breath. She wanted to refuse him. To walk out of the hall and end this charade at once, consequences be damned. Instead, she found herself obeying before she could stop herself.
A small smile touched her lips, though her entire body was still tense beneath the weight of the watching eyes as she slid her hand into the crook of his waiting arm.
“Good,” he murmured quietly.
Then he guided her to the high table as though she had always belonged there.