Chapter 13 #2
None of them seemed malicious, only keen for her to look at them, to speak to them. Their faces blurred, and she fought to keep a polite smile on her face, not to recoil. That would hurt their feelings, and it wasn’t fair… wasn’t fair to—
“Oy!” Evander’s voice rang out sharply. He elbowed his way through his guards, dismissing them with a brisk wave of his hand. “Lassies, give her space. Now!”
The women, cowed, shuffled back, their heads bowed.
“Do ye remember any of these women?” he murmured, his voice low.
Skye bit her lower lip. “I daenae.”
He nodded. “They are yer maids. They must be keen to wait on ye again, I’m sure.”
The black-haired maid who had identified herself as Susan took a tentative step forward.
“We didnae mean to harass ye, me Lady,” she murmured anxiously, twisting her fingers together in her apron.
“We heard ye were returning, and we were excited. I… I was yer lady’s maid, ye see.
Helped ye dress and such. We were… we were friends, I think.
I heard a rumor that ye couldnae remember anything. Is it true?”
Skye opened her mouth, not entirely sure what she was going to say. To her relief, Evander spoke up in her stead.
“Enough of this, lassies,” he said firmly. “I’ll have no truck with gossip and rumors here.”
Susan wilted a little, and Skye felt a stab of pity for her. She cleared her throat, drawing their gazes toward her.
“It’s true, I’m nae… nae quite meself,” she managed weakly. “I’m sorry. I am glad to see ye all, and I look forward to getting to ken everyone all over again. This has been a fine welcome. Thank ye.”
The women visibly perked up at her words, exchanging quick, pleased smiles.
“Come,” Evander murmured, placing his wide palm on the small of her back.
She flinched at the touch, blinking rapidly. Warmth spread through her spine.
He herded her forward, up the wide stone steps that led into the yawning maw of the castle itself. Glancing over his shoulder, he met Susan’s eyes and made a quick gesture. She followed, trotting up the stairs behind them at a respectable distance.
The rest of the women dispersed, whispering amongst themselves.
Swallowing, Skye leaned her head toward Evander.
“Thank ye,” she whispered. “I didnae wish to be rude, but it was… it was too much.”
“I understand. No need to thank me. Susan will keep them away from now on, I think. Those women love ye, but they are overeager.”
Skye swallowed. “I feel guilty that I cannae remember them. What could I have done to make them like me so much? Did I give them expensive gifts?”
He looked at her oddly. “Nay. Ye gave them nothing. Ye were just yerself, and they loved ye anyhow.”
As she absorbed that, they passed into the cool shadow of the castle. Thick stone walls muffled most of the noise and hubbub from outside. Their footsteps echoed.
“This is the Great Hall,” Evander said. “It runs the length of the castle, and all other doors and passages open up from here.”
“It’s impressive,” she confessed.
The floors were bare, simple stone flags that made their footsteps twice as loud. Tapestries hung on the wall, and countless torches and braziers burned at intervals. Outside, the sun shone brightly, but here, colors and light were muted. Shadows seemed darker and more still.
The place was different from Hunter’s castle. Hunter did not like fripperies and decorations, whereas their mother, Helena, certainly did. So, there’d be stark contrasts between certain rooms—one full of flounces, color, tapestries, rugs, and silks, whereas the next room was Spartan and uninviting.
This place seemed more even, more balanced. It wasn’t as cluttered and colorful as Helena’s taste dictated, nor as unfriendly as Hunter’s.
Is this Evander’s taste? Is he simply more balanced?
Skye opened her mouth to ask, but was interrupted by a loud scrabbling noise from a room just up ahead. Almost at once, there was an ear-splitting crash, the shattering sound of expensive porcelain.
Evander stopped dead and groaned loudly. “Nae this again.”
“Nae what again?” she queried.
Her answer came at once.
A blurry black streak shot out of the open doorway, pursued by a red-faced soldier. Both the soldier and the black smudge stopped at the sight of Skye and Evander. The soldier yelped, straightening up and snapping a crooked salute.
The black smudge resolved itself into a small, amber-eyed cat, so fluffy that it was almost a ball.
The cat blinked slowly, then let out a long, delighted trill.
It hurled itself at Skye, leaping through the air and attaching itself to her skirt.
Claws extended, it climbed the material with ease, yowling all the while.
Memories slotted themselves neatly into Skye’s mind, starting with a pitiful meow coming from the undergrowth at the last Leanan Festival.
“Blackberry!” she gasped, reaching down for the cat. It yowled again and launched itself—herself—into her arms. Once settled in her arms, head resting against her chest, the cat began to purr loudly.
“Ye remember her?” Evander whispered.
Skye nodded, a lump lodging itself in her throat. “Me wee kitten. We found her the day of the festival, and ye said I could keep her. Of course, I remember Blackberry!”
He huffed, shaking his head and biting back an amused smile. “Aye, of course ye remember her. This wee maelstrom has caused more trouble than an entire enemy army.”
Skye paused, glancing up at him. “She hasnae been good while I was away?”
“Good? That wee cat is the personification of evil.”
Skye clicked her tongue, smoothing back Blackberry’s pointed ears. “I daenae believe that.”
“I can tell ye that she’s been menacing everybody since ye went away. Maids, soldiers, servants—all of them. Even her Laird.”
“Ach, she’s a Bryden through and through, then!” Skye laughed, bending her head to kiss Blackberry’s soft little head.
“Shall I clean up the mess, me Laird?” Susan asked, taking a step forward and gesturing to the open door. “Lady Bryden’s rooms are ready. The guest room is—”
“Guest room?” Evander interrupted, frowning. “Why would Lady Bryden take the guest room? She’ll take her own rooms, as before.”
Susan reddened. “Lady Bryden’s rooms are… already occupied.”
Skye blinked up at her. “I… I daenae mind.”
Evander ignored her.
“Occupied?” he demanded. “By whom?”
“By me. I hope ye will forgive the intrusion,” a familiar voice echoed from the gallery above.
Skye flinched, her eyes widening. All three of them glanced up.
An older woman leaned over the railing of the gallery. Iron-gray hair was swept back into an austere knot at the back of her head. She wore a bright green gown that swamped her small frame. When she moved, she limped heavily, leaning on a walking stick.
“Maither,” Skye breathed, her eyes lighting up.
“Lady Helena,” Evander greeted. “What a pleasure to find ye here.”
“Where else would I be?” Helena replied, beginning her slow, tentative descent.
She’d broken a leg many years ago, and the bone never quite knitted. It left her with a deformed leg and a pronounced limp. Somehow, though, her small size and limp didn’t make her look less formidable.
Skye rushed to meet her at the bottom of the stairs. Tears welled up, stinging her eyes. She flung one arm around Helena’s shoulders, the other arm still carefully cradling Blackberry.
The cat growled in annoyance, batting Helena’s shoulder with one paw.
“What a spirited wee thing!” Helena laughed, wisely choosing not to stroke the cat.
“Skye, I came as soon as I heard. Yer braither cannae leave the keep just yet. There’s too much to be done, but I’ll be sending him regular updates on yer well-being.
He sends his love, too. Oh, pet, I never thought I’d see ye again. ” Her voice cracked on the last word.
She reached out, cupping Skye’s face in her thin hands.
“I thought I’d lost ye,” she whispered. “We all did.”
“I’m nae lost,” Skye whispered back. “I’m right here.”
“So ye are,” Helena agreed, with a tight nod and a smile. “I’m sorry to have taken yer rooms. I suspect the servants panicked, with me being yer maither and a laird’s wife once upon a time. I’ll move me things.”
“No need,” Skye answered firmly. “I daenae remember me rooms, in any case.”
They both glanced over at Evander.
He sighed. “Well, if Skye doesnae mind taking a guest room, who am I to complain? Now, I’ll leave ye two to talk. It seems like ye have a good deal to talk about.”