CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Aine shivered, pressing her hands together as she entered the hall. It was always cold at Forrais, and not just because the vast expanse of stone reflected the Highland chill. With its high, peaked roof and tapestry-lined walls, the keep rivaled the continental cathedrals in its grandeur, but it still fell far short of the warmth and welcome of her half brother’s hall in Faolán.

A pang of longing struck her. How strange to realize that in a few short years, Seare had become her home.

“They said you were dead.”

Aine turned at the hard voice behind her and found herself looking into an even harder set of dark eyes.

Aine might have changed in her absence, but Lady Macha had not, no more than the standing stones of their pagan ancestors weathered in a few short years. At first glance, she looked like any other noblewoman in Aron. A braid bound salt-and-pepper hair away from her face, and her silver-embroidered dress draped a body as hard as an oak, erect and unyielding. Her hands, however, gave her away —muscular, calloused, scarred from sword work. A woman, aye, but there could be no mistaking her for anything but a warrior.

Dislike washed over Aine. “As you can see, I am very much alive.”

“And I suppose now that you’re back, you’ll be wishing for lodging.”

Aine’s nervousness dissolved in a sudden flush of anger. Macha may be chief, the leader of this clan, and a warrior in her own right, but Aine was no mere girl. She had healed on the battlefield, led men, counseled kings, and escaped a druid’s grasp. She would not let this battle-ax of a woman intimidate her.

She straightened her spine and looked Macha directly in the eye. “I’ll be looking for my rightful place as a daughter of this clan.”

Macha held the gaze, something dark and unsettling behind her eyes. Then a tiny shift in the set of her shoulders conceded the argument. “Very well. A servant will show you to your old chamber. Do your best to make yourself presentable for supper. I expect you to give a full explanation before the court this evening.”

Aine dipped her head. “Thank you, Aunt.”

Another sharp nod and Macha turned on her heel, striding out of the room as though she had a broomstick down the back of her bodice. The fight seeped from Aine with the fading of her aunt’s footsteps. Macha had tolerated Aine as a child because her father was chief, and then after his death because Ailís demanded it. Now only the rights and responsibilities of blood kept her from refusing Aine a place at court.

“My lady?” A girl, no more than thirteen or fourteen, appeared at Aine’s elbow, trembling. “I’m to show you to your chamber.”

Aine dismissed Macha’s rudeness in the face of the maid’s cringing posture. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Lia, my lady.”

“Very well, Lia. I’ve been gone long enough that I might lose my way in the corridors.”

“Aye, my lady. It’s this way.”

Aine followed Lia down one of the tapestry-lined corridors, even though she could never forget this place. She swallowed a lump of grief when they passed her mother’s old quarters, the ones Ailís had been assigned when Father died and Macha took over as chief: deep in the east wing, as far away from the chief’s apartments as possible. Aine had been too young to understand the slight, but she did now.

It was a reminder that however familiar Forrais might be, it was no longer home.

“Here we are, my lady.” The maid pushed open the door to a cavernous, high-ceilinged room.

Aine’s chamber seemed to have been untouched since she left. Heavy curtains covered tall, leaded-glass windows, and cloths draped the sparse furnishings, protecting them from the film that lay thick over every other surface. Stale rushes in the mattress gave off a musty, abandoned smell instead of the usual sweet scent of hay and sunshine. Her fantasy of collapsing into a plump, freshly made bed dissipated like the cloud of dust around her feet.

“I’m sorry, my lady. We had no notice you were coming.”

“Then speak with Master Guaire right away.” Aine quickly smiled at the girl to soften the sharp edge of her words. Lia wasn’t responsible for her aunt’s cold welcome.

“Aye, my lady.” Lia curtsied and scurried out the door.

Aine rubbed her pounding temples with her fingertips. She was tired, achy, and hungry, three things about which she could do nothing at present. But perhaps she could fill her time while she waited.

Lady Ailís’s chamber was unlocked. Aine took a thick candle from the corridor and stepped into the pitch-black room. It was smaller and darker than she remembered, without the tall windows that lit her own space. It was not what she would have expected of a chamber belonging to a former clan chief’s wife.

My mother gave me the chamber meant for her. How did I never realize that?

Aine wandered around the space, opening chests and wardrobes, but they were all empty. Where were her mother’s things? Surely they hadn’t been discarded. The idea that Macha might possess Ailís’s jewels, furs, and weapons made her stomach twist. They were Aine’s by right. She would demand them —

Aine stopped the thoughts in their tracks. To demand Ailís’s possessions would only make her look like a petulant little girl. She turned and strode into the corridor, her boot heels echoing in the empty hallway. When she burst into her chamber, two male servants were already sweeping, dusting, and scrubbing.

“Do you know where Master Guaire . . .”

A gray-haired man turned to her. A smile split his face, the first genuine expression of pleasure she’d seen since arriving at Forrais. “Lady Aine. It truly is you.”

Despite the utter impropriety of it, the steward enfolded her in his arms. Aine allowed herself the briefest moment to revel in the welcome before she stepped back. “Master Guaire, where are my mother’s possessions?”

The steward hesitated, the pleasure in his lined face dimming.

She placed a hand on his sleeve in silent appeal. “Please. I’ve arrived home with nothing. And now I find I haven’t even the comfort of those familiar objects.”

“They are yours,” he said finally. “I know clan law as well as our chief. I’ll have Ailís’s chests retrieved from storage and brought here when your chamber is once more fit for use.”

Aine caught the implied dismissal and gave a small bow of acknowledgment. She turned and made as dignified an exit as she could manage with her victory surging through her veins. She was not the same naive girl she had been when she left. She would not allow them to treat her as such.

“My lady?”

Aine stopped with her hand on the latch. “Aye, Master Guaire?”

A smile touched his lips, but there was a spark in his eyes that made her think he knew her thoughts.

“Welcome back.”