Prologue
“Come on, lass, are ye ready?” Laird Gallach called out in a stern tone before his garrulous frame entered Islay’s room.
Islay pouted and lay on the bed with her arms and legs stretched out, forming the shape of a star.
Her head lolled back off the side of the bed and gazed out the window, looking at the bright blue sky and the freedom it offered.
Wispy clouds drifted by, making it seem so easy to move away.
Islay found herself jealous of them, for she was stuck in these cold, thick walls, and this uncomfortable dress.
Her straw-like blonde hair fell about her face and her soft, ruby lips pouted.
“Dae we hae tae gae?” she huffed.
Laird Gallach sighed as he leaned against the door.
“Ye know ye hae tae. This is important, Islay. Ye are gaeing tae meet the men ye are betrothed tae. One dae ye shall be his husband and ye shall live with him.”
She folded her arms across her chest and made a point not to look at her father, as though if she ignored him, he would simply leave and she wouldn’t have to go through with this.
The dress was already feeling tight. The fabric was soft and colorful, pale green like the fields on a spring morning as they were covered with dew, and yet to her, it was distasteful.
She couldn’t roam about the world in a dress like this—it would get torn to shreds!
“I dinnae want tae get married. I dinnae want any of this!” she cried out.
Her father bowed his head and sighed heavily. He walked into the room and perched on the edge of the bed; his weight was such that the bed creaked. Islay glanced over through a crack in her eyelids, although she kept her arms wrapped tightly around her.
“Ye may feel that way now, lass, but I promise ye that will change. Everything does change in the end. Ye are my eldest daughter and ye hae responsibilities tae the family. We all must dae our part tae ensure our prosperity. The Connall clan are a powerful family, and a marriage tae Callum will ensure our honor and nobility. I know ye may nae want it now, but ye will grow, and ye will change. Sometimes in life, we hae tae dae things we dinnae want tae, but it’s all for the good of the family and the clan. ”
“Did ye hae tae dae anything ye didnae want tae?” Islay asked. Laird Gallach grew quiet then. He averted his gaze, and it looked as though a shadow passed over him.
“We all dae, lass. Now get off yer bed and let’s gae. It would be an insult tae be late.”
Islay was only thirteen, and as such, there were so many things about the world that she didn’t fully understand.
One of them was why her father seemed so determined to ruin her life.
Islay was happy and enjoyed all the things she could do.
The clan seemed to be prosperous as it was, and the young girl was never bored.
She could go out riding with friends, exploring the surrounding forest, and there was nothing that stopped her.
This was her home, and she imagined herself living there for her entire life.
She didn’t need anyone else or to get married.
The thought of kissing a boy made her scrunch up her face and wheel away in revulsion.
They were smelly and ugly, and they always did disgusting things like fling mud and made loud jokes.
She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to marry one.
Her father kept telling her that she would understand one day, but she knew he was wrong.
She wasn’t going to change. She wasn’t ever going to change.
They rode in a carriage towards the Connall clan.
Islay had been taken there as a child when the betrothal had been made, but the memory was vague and fuzzy.
She remembered that her father and Callum’s father did most of the talking.
At one point, she and Callum had held hands, and then a great cheer had risen up.
At the time, Islay had been very confused as she hadn’t understood what she had done that was worth celebrating.
It was only later, when her father had explained what happened, that it had dawned on her, and she was shocked.
The castle was vast and rose high upon a hillside.
The sun shone on it, as though it was blessed.
As the hill sloped down, other buildings and huts peppered the land.
Spires of smoke rose in thin lines, dissipating into the air.
The carriage trundled along a wide rose that led through the town towards the castle.
Children ran about, giggling with glee and waving at the carriage.
A few animals joined in the fun as well, and the dogs barked.
Horses were tethered to stables and slowly raised their heads, before dipping them back into the trough.
Smiths hammered anvils, and the general clanking sound drifted through the air.
The smell of baked bread and other fresh goods wafted towards them.
A man was pushing a cart of vegetables and shot them a glaring look as the carriage passed.
He shook a fist and cursed. Islay giggled at hearing a naughty word, and her father glowered, shaking his head.
When they reached the castle, they alighted from the carriage and made their way through the courtyard to the great hall.
Everything seemed so much bigger here, and Islay arched her head back in wonder, gasping at the magnitude of it all.
Her father might well have thought that she was going to live here one day, but it seemed far too big for her.
She wasn’t sure how she would ever fit in.
The courtyard was teeming with people who all murmured and whispered when she appeared.
Islay wondered what they were saying, if it was anything horrible.
Her father placed his hand on her shoulder and she sidled towards him, feeling safe with him.
Her dress billowed out behind her as they made their way into the main hall where a ceilidh was taking place.
A band of minstrels was playing a merry tune and people were dancing in the middle of the room.
Others sat at long, wide tables, drinking and eating and cheering.
The wide windows let in a lot of light and the place seemed alive with song.
Laird Gallach led Islay up to the laird and bowed.
Islay curtsied. Laird Connall was a tall man with flaming red hair.
His son, Callum, was by his side. He was five years older than Islay and yet he seemed far more a man than she seemed a woman.
There were already red whiskers forming on his chin and jaw.
His shoulders were broad, and his eyes were inquisitive.
Their eyes met and he smiled at her, but she immediately averted her gaze and looked to the ground.
“Ye dae us a great honor with yer presence,” Laird Connall said, beaming with happiness. He spread his arms wide open and instructed Laird Gallach to enjoy everything that he had to offer.
Islay sat in a chair and let proceedings swirl around her.
Her father seemed to enjoy talking with so many people, but Islay hated it.
She smiled politely and tried to be a good daughter for her father, but in truth, she just wanted to be at home.
Everything was loud, and her skin tingled as she felt a hundred gazes upon her.
She nibbled on some food and was just glad that she wasn’t asked to dance or forced to do anything other than sit there.
She did find that her gaze drifted towards Callum on more than one occasion, though.
He remained sitting beside his father, and his expression was difficult to read.
This was the man she was supposed to marry, and she had no idea what he was like.
She shuddered at the thought of being his wife, wondering how her father could condemn her to such a fate.
At one point, her father was called away to speak with some other men. Islay watched him throw his head back in uproarious laughter, clapping his hand on another man’s back. Islay was startled by a presence by her side. Someone had come and sat down beside her.
“Ye are Islay, aren’t ye? The one who is betrothed tae Callum?
” the girl asked. Her hair was as red as a robin’s breast, and her eyes shimmered.
When the sun caught them, Islay could see a shade of brown within them.
Her skin was pale, and there was a light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
By the shape of her body, Islay surmised that she was a couple of years older.
“Aye, and who are ye?”
“Cinaed,” the girl replied. “Ye are sae lucky that ye get tae marry him. I dinnae know if ye can tell, but ye are the envy of every lass here! I doubt there’s a lass in the country who wouldnae want tae be his bride.
” Her words were honeyed, and as she spoke, her gaze drifted towards Callum.
She looked intoxicated, although it was a feeling that Islay could not share.
She snorted and scoffed, shaking her head. “Ye are welcome tae him, ye and all the other lasses around. I’m nae gaeing tae marry him. I’m gaeing tae make my own destiny, no matter what!” Islay said, sounding brave now that her father wasn’t in earshot.
Cinaed looked at her strangely. The girl tittered and then moved away, shaking her head, as though Islay had said something funny. But the young girl had not been joking.
Islay set her expression into grim determination and scowled. This wasn’t the place where she was going to end up—of that, she was sure. She wasn’t going to be someone’s bride. She wanted to be free to be whoever she wanted to be. She had never agreed to marry Callum.
There were still a few years left to wriggle out of this betrothal…