The words should have been comforting. Instead, they only reminded Liliane how trapped she was.
As they walked toward the great hall, Liliane's mind was already racing. She'd seen where the healer's chamber was, knew it was unlocked when Moira was away. If she could find an excuse to return alone...
The great hall was less crowded than it had been the day before, but still bustling with activity. Servants moved between tables,clearing dishes and setting out fresh bread and cheese. At the high table, she could see Tòrr and Michael already seated, along with Catherine and Sofia.
"There she is!" Catherine called out, waving enthusiastically. "Come sit by me, sister. I want tae hear everythin’ about yer first night as Lady MacDonald."
Heat flooded Liliane's face as she took the seat Catherine indicated.
"Catherine," Sofia chided gently. "Give the poor lass some peace."
"I'm just curious." Catherine turned her bright gaze on Liliane.
From his seat, Tòrr's fork scraped against his plate with more force than necessary. “That willnae be necessary, Catherine.”
"Dinnae let Catherine interrogate ye. She has nay shame," Michael said, reaching out for another plate of food.
"I have plenty of shame," Catherine protested. "I'm just also curious."
"Leave the lass be. Her marriage is none of yer business." Michael added, taking his own seat.
Liliane found herself relaxing slightly under their easy banter.
“Would ye like me tae show ye the gardens after breakfast? They're quite lovely this time of year." Sofia chimed in.
"Or the library," Catherine suggested. "Dae ye like tae read? We have an excellent collection."
"I dae like tae read," Liliane admitted. "Very much, actually."
"Then the library it is!" Catherine clapped her hands. "Oh, and there's the village festival comin’ up in few days. Ye'll love it, music, dancin’, far too much ale. The whole clan celebrates."
Few days.
Liliane’s heart gave a sudden, sharp thud. “The whole clan attends?” she asked carefully, forcing her voice to sound casual.
“Aye, nearly everyone. It’s tradition,” Catherine said brightly. “Ye cannae miss it.”
"Everyone who can make the journey," Michael confirmed. "Happens twice a year, once in spring, once in autumn."
Liliane nodded, but her mind was already racing. A festival meant crowds. Distraction. Laughter. Chaos. Everyone’s attention would be on the celebration, not on her.
If she could keep Tòrr at bay until then, play the part of the compliant bride just long enough, the festival might give her theopening she needed. A chance to disappear. A chance to reach Nessa before it was too late.
She smiled faintly, hoping Catherine wouldn’t notice how tight it felt. “It sounds… wonderful.” She tried to keep her voice neutral. "Will... will we be goin’?"
"Of course!" Catherine looked surprised by the question. "Tòrr never misses the festivals. He's required tae attend, actually. The laird's presence is part of the tradition."
"And his new wife will be expected as well," Sofia added gently. "It'll be yer first public appearance as Lady MacDonald. The clan will want tae meet ye properly."
A public appearance. In the village. Away from the castle walls. Surrounded by crowds and confusion and countless opportunities to slip away unnoticed.
"That sounds..." Liliane struggled to keep the hope out of her voice. "Interestin’."
"It'll be wonderful," Catherine assured her. "Ye'll see. Everyone will adore ye."
"I doubt that." Liliane took a bite of bread, her mind already racing with possibilities. "I'm a Munro. Yer clan has nay reason tae trust me."
"Ye're a MacDonald now," Michael corrected. "The moment ye spoke those vows, ye became one of us. The clan understands that."
