“If ye’ll excuse me,” I said to them, pleased with my decision and eager to end the discussion of the lass. I turned and strode away before anyone could say more. But as I left the great hall, the dream of her returned to me. Her warm skin against my hands, her lips parting on a sigh, her body arching into mine.
I pushed the image away with all the discipline I could muster. I would honor our arrangement but maintain my distance. Yet even as I thought this, a yearning to go to the nursery, to check to see if she was well, filled me. I purposely turned in the opposite direction and strode out the door to train with the men. I would drive her from my mind through training rather than wine. It occurred to me as I made my way down to the men that Murieall’s presence was part of the reason I was not imbibing this morning, and a growl of irritation erupted from me.
Chapter Ten – Murieall
The children’s laughter rang through the castle garden, momentarily drowning out the distant clang of swords from the training yard. I leaned back against the rough stone bench, tilting my face toward the late afternoon sun. Its warmth seeped into my skin, a pleasant contrast to the cool breeze that carried the scent of freshly turned earth. Before me, Bess and Guinn took turns jumping over a length of rope held by two other castle children, their small faces alight with joy, their bodies moving with the unthinking grace of the young.
“Jump, jump, turn around, jump again before ye touch the ground!” they chanted, their voices rising and falling in that peculiar cadence that seemed universal to children’s games.
Guinn’s locks caught the sunlight as she leapt over the swinging rope, her small feet barely touching the cobblestones before rising again. Beside her, Bess waited impatiently for her turn, her fingers twisting the fabric of her skirt, her body already beginning the movements she would make when her moment came.
“Watch me, Murieall!” Bess called, seeking my approval.
“I’m watching, lass,” I called back, offering her an encouraging smile.
When her turn came, she jumped with less grace than her sister but more determination, her fair hair bouncing with each hop, her small face fierce with concentration. The sight of her brought an unexpected warmth to my chest, a tenderness I had not anticipated feeling for these children who were not my own, who I had known for such a short time.
Tell him there are liars amongst him.
The whisper slid into my mind like a knife between ribs, sudden and unwelcome. I stiffened, my hands clenching in my lap as I fought to keep my expression neutral, not to alert the children to my distress. It was the same voice from this morning, the same message, delivered with the same urgent intensity that had overwhelmed me in the great hall.
Tell him! Tell him now before it is too late!
My jaw clenched so tightly that pain radiated up into my temples. “Nae now,” I whispered fiercely, so quietly that only the dead could hear. “I’ll nae listen.”
I fixed my gaze on the children, forcing myself to focus on their movements, the way their small hands clutched the rope, the sound of their feet hitting the cobblestones—anything to drown out the persistent whisper that threatened to shatter my composure once more.
To further distract myself, I began to compose a letter in my mind to Liam, imagining how the ink would flow across parchment, how the words would bring him comfort and restore his faith in our future together.
My dearest Liam, I began silently, picturing his eyes shining with the steady dependability that had drawn me to him in the first place.By the time this reaches ye, I’ll be free of the curse that has kept us apart. I’ve traveled far and faced much to return to ye, to the life we planned together.
I paused in my mental composition, catching sight of Guinn executing a particularly complicated jump, spinning in the air before landing lightly on her toes. The other children clapped, and she curtseyed dramatically, her face flushed with pride. A smile tugged at my lips despite my inner turmoil.
Soon I will prove to yer parents, and everyone, that I’m nae mad, I continued in my imaginary letter.That the whispers that have plagued me are gone. We can build the life weplanned—the comfortable home, the children, the peaceful days uninterrupted by uncertainty or fear.
The voice returned, louder now, drowning out my carefully constructed words to Liam.
Tell him! Ye must tell him!
My fingers dug into the fabric of my skirts as I fought to maintain control, and an ache started in my stomach. I would not surrender to this. I would not allow the dead to rule my life, to determine my future.
Ye will come to understand that what happened was necessary, I insisted to myself, returning to my letter, forcing the words through the clamor in my mind.When I return to ye, I will be the steady, reliable woman ye always believed me to be, and I will be untroubled by phantoms or fears.
But even as I formed the words, doubts crept in. Would Liam truly welcome me back? Would he believe that my curse was lifted, or would he always watch me with wary eyes, waiting for me to slip back into madness? And what of his parents, who had been so quick to demand the breaking of our betrothal? Would they ever truly accept me as a daughter-by-marriage?
I pushed these uncertainties aside. There was no room for doubt in my plan. I would succeed. I would make Munro feel again. I would break my curse. I would return to Liam and the future I had so carefully mapped out for myself.
The dead woman’s voice receded gradually, and I exhaled slowly, unclenching my hands, stretching my fingers to ease the ache from holding them so tight.
“Murieall! Will ye jump with us?” Bess called, breaking through my thoughts.
I looked up to find both girls watching me expectantly, the rope held between them now, the other children having moved on to some new game.
“I do nae think—” I began, but Guinn cut me off.
“Please? Just once?”
The hope and vulnerability in her eyes made it impossible to refuse. I rose from the bench, smoothing my skirts, and moved toward them. They beamed in unison, their faces so alight with simple joy that for a moment, I forgot about curses and voices and carefully laid plans.
