Chapter 21
Durvla
Carys’s morning check-in is brief and uneventful, leaving me with a lot of time to work on her dress. The front panel is halfway done, and as I’m sitting on the floor with yards of purple fabric spread out in front of me, I sense a presence.
Major Kilkenny stands with one hand braced against the doorjamb. I scramble to my feet as though I’ve been caught doing something illicit. Unsure of the right etiquette, I dip into a curtsy, but my legs are numb from sitting on the floor for so long, and I nearly fall over.
Major Kilkenny presses his lips into a thin line. “You don’t have to do that,” he says. “I’m not royalty.”
My face warms. “Right. You’re not guarding Princess Carys this morning?”
His dark eyes search my face, and I resist the urge to press my hands over my cheeks. “Sir Ren is on duty,” he says as he steps fully into my room.
I have no clue who Sir Ren is, but before I can ask, he speaks again.
“It’s time for your horseback riding lesson.”
Horseback riding lessons? I wasn’t aware that I would be receiving those.
“Just for an hour and then you can get right back to work.”
“Right.” I have so many questions, but Major Kilkenny’s stony glare robs me of my words. “Uh …” I tilt my head to the partially cut fabric on the floor before me and then back up at the guard.
He gestures vaguely to my work in progress. “You can wrap things up.”
My shoulders relax. “Thank you.”
He nods and presses his hand against the doorframe again, his focus drawn to my work.
I get back onto my knees and pick up the scissors from the floor.
The brand on my left arm has made my dominant hand stiff.
If that wasn’t enough of a hindrance, now Major Kilkenny’s attention sends nervous energy coursing through me.
I fight the urge to fuss with the bracelet missing from my wrist and my throat closes up.
I’m so sorry, Ma, for letting them take my bracelet.
I swallow and release a breath before glancing up at Kilkenny. “This … may take a moment,” I admit.
If possible, his stare intensifies. “Try to work faster.”
Gods, if only I had the guts to kick him out and slam the door behind him.
I blink forcefully and pull all my focus back to the task at hand.
Nervous energy aside, I finish cutting and folding the fabric, then place the pieces in a neat stack on my bed.
The whole time, I can feel the guard observing my every move.
As I expect, those calculating dark eyes are still on me when I look up.
“I need to get my shoes on,” I say.
He shrugs and makes a subtle gesture with his hands as if to say so do it.
It isn’t very long before I’m following him through the maze of corridors. It’s vaguely familiar—we took the same path the day we headed to Barr na Cahar—but despite my best attempt to keep track of the route, I forget every turn.
We step out of the castle and into the sunlight. The blue sky and a smattering of white clouds are a warm welcome.
Oh, how I wish Taig could play outside on a day such as this.
What is he doing right now? My stomach knots.
What if his new normal is being in solitude at home all day?
I’d had the privilege of mainly working in the comfort of my home, but checking in on Taig in the middle of the day would be hard for Osheen.
My body collides with a solid mass, and I startle.
My gaze catches on the collar of Kilkenny’s maroon livery, right at my eye level.
A silvery scar peeks out from beneath his collar, snaking up the left side of his neck.
I snap my focus from his neck up to the scowl on his face and step back quickly, putting space between us. “Apologies.”
He folds his arms across his chest, his posture rigid. “If you’re going to survive your time here, you need to be more alert. Unless you want to be sent right back to the brig.”
I didn’t do it on purpose, I want to say.
Instead, I nod and continue following him toward the stables.
As soon as we enter the building, Ghendor’s and Mirren’s ears flick our way, their heads swiveling to us shortly after.
I swear the black stallion rolls his eyes and Mirren averts hers.
I can’t blame them. Major Kilkenny steps in front of me and peers into my face.
I try not to back away but, gods, he gives the most intense stares.
“We don’t have much time,” he says. “So, let’s skip the part where you’re afraid of heights and all of that, yes?”
Oh, certainly. Because it’s that simple. I flash him a surely unbelievable smile. “No problem.”
We lead the horses out of their stalls and into the open air. Major Kilkenny gestures for me to mount Mirren, and I can’t help but pout.
I am not afraid of heights. I am not afraid of heights.
I’m terrified of heights.
Recalling the way Major Kilkenny had taught me to mount the mare the first time, I swing myself up into her saddle. My heart lodges in my throat as I settle atop her back. I breathe in through my nostrils and out through pursed lips.
Kilkenny rests his hand on my knee and tilts his head, regarding me. “All good?”
“Never better,” I grit out as a dull throb starts at the back of my head.
“No fear, right?”
I want to believe that he’s trying to be encouraging or to show a modicum of concern. “Right.” I rub the back of my head.
Major Kilkenny gets onto Ghendor with annoying ease. “We’re going to just take a lap around the grounds, stairs included. Mirren will follow along, but I need you to steer the reins like I showed you when we traveled to Barr na Cahar.”
I nod wordlessly.
Major Kilkenny clicks his tongue and nudges Ghendor’s sides with his heels. I follow suit. My stomach lurches as Mirren sets off at a walk alongside Ghendor.
Major Kilkenny studies me. “You’re not going to faint on me, are you, Garrick?”
“Not if I can help it, Kilkenny.” The words slip out before I can filter them. “I mean, Major Kilkenny.”
To my surprise, Kilkenny only smirks at me. It’s so brief that, had I blinked at that moment, I would’ve missed it. “Good,” he says, his face neutral once more.
We set off around the castle grounds, walking the winding pathways that overlook the cliffside down to the striking loch below.
It’s breathtaking. Literally. Beneath me, Mirren is the picture of perfection.
She’s as good-natured as Kilkenny has bragged.
We keep a steady pace, even as the temperature begins to drop, and a gentle breeze sweeps across the bluffs, blowing through Mirren’s cream-colored mane and tugging curls from my braids.
I lift my hand to push back the coils and the damaged skin around my forearm brand pulls.
It’s not as painful anymore, but incredibly uncomfortable.
Kilkenny catches my wince. “Everything alright?”
“Yes.” There isn’t much point in complaining about something that cannot be changed. When I’m deep in my work on Carys’s dress, I’m able to ignore this newest bodily nuisance, just as well as I can ignore my frequent headaches.
By the time we return to the stables, I’m a lot more comfortable on horseback. I still have no clue what it has to do with my dressmaking position, but I suppose if ever I need to make another trip to Barr na Cahar, I can do so with greater ease.
“You can use some more practice,” Kilkenny says after I dismount.
My chest deflates along with my confidence.
A little muscle in his cheek tics. “But you at least stayed on the path this time and didn’t fall into the loch.”
My lips tug up in a small smile. “That’s something.”
He gestures somewhere over his shoulder and the stableboy appears out of nowhere. They exchange a few words too quickly for me to make out before the stableboy leads the horses away.
Kilkenny begins the trek back to the castle and I jog to catch up with him. His angular eyes narrow as he turns to me again, his forehead creased. “Do you have any experience with weapons?”
“Weapons? Like … ?” I motion to his sword, and he nods. “No, not really. I went hunting with my father as a child, but I was never good.”
Kilkenny doesn’t speak again until we’re standing outside of my door. “Well …” His throat bobs as he swallows, and I catch another glimpse of the scar up the left side of his neck before I focus on his lips again. “Have a good day, Garrick,” he says.
He leaves before I can even respond.