"And yestill havenae told me yer name," Maia pressed. "Which seems rather unfair, considerin' ye ken mine and I'm currently yer hostage."
"Look."
The single wordcut through her rambling, and Maia blinked. "What?"
"Look."He shifted behind her, one arm moving to point off to their left. "Deer."
Maia's headsnapped in the direction he was indicating, and her breath caught.
There,perhaps fifty yards away, a small herd of red deer grazed in the pre-dawn light. Their coats looked almost bronze in the strange half-light, and as she watched, one of the stags raised its magnificent head, antlers silhouetted against the lightening sky.
"Oh,"she breathed, all thoughts of names and questions fleeing her mind. "Oh, they're bonnie."
She'd seen deer before,of course. Years ago, when her parents were alive, and she was free to ride and hunt and explore. But that felt like another lifetime, like memories belonging to a different person entirely.
"Aye, they are bonnie."the man responded.
But Maia was already twistingin the saddle again, trying to keep the herd in sight as they rode past. "The stag, did ye see the size of his antlers? He must be ancient. And there are fawns! Three of them, look, can ye see them?"
"I see them."
"They're so wee.Do ye think they were born this spring? They look young still, nae fully grown. And the way they, oh!" She gasped as something else caught her eye. "Birds! What kind are those? The ones with the white breasts?"
"Thrushes."
"Are ye certain?I thought thrushes had more brown on them than white."
"They're thrushes."His voice had taken on a distinctly grumpy quality.
Maia ignored it."And those trees, are those birches? The ones with the white bark? We have some near the castle but I could never see them properly from me window, the angle was all wrong, but these are close enough that I can actually…"
"Lass."
"…seethe patterns in the bark, it's almost like they have eyes, have ye ever noticed that? The way the dark spots look like they're watchin' ye? And is that a stream up ahead? I can hear water, I think, or maybe it's just the wind."
"Lass."
The sharp edgein his voice finally penetrated her enthusiasm. Maia fell silent, her cheeks heating.
"Ye havenae stopped talkin'since ye noticed those bloody deer. Daenae make me regret showin' them to ye," he said, and she could hear the exhaustion in his tone now. "Do ye ever quiet down?"
"I—"Maia bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I dinnae mean to. It's just that I havenae been outside in so long, and everythin' is so bonnie, and I forgot how much there is to see."
She was doing it again.Rambling. She pressed her lips together firmly.
They rodein silence for another minute.
"How long?"His voice was quieter now, less sharp. "Ye said ye havenae been outside in a long time. How long?"
Maia's throat tightened. "Six years."
"Six.How the bloody hell does—" He cut himself off. She felt him shift behind her, his grip on the reins tightening. "What do ye mean, six years?"
"I meanI havenae left the castle in six years, and barely stepped out of me room either," she said simply. "Nae since I was sixteen when me uncle locked me away." Her voice caught. "Said I was too much trouble, too much of a distraction. So, he barred me window and posted guards at me door, and I've been there ever since."
Another long silence.Then: "The bars on yer window."
"Aye."
