"Aye, we would never miss such an occasion," Annabella said. "An' there are... too many bad mem'ries here, now tha' I know how monstrous our father truly was. I cannae seem tae think o' any time where it was apparent tha' he loved us. I would be more than happy tae put distance between myself an' this place."
"Iain, Isla," Fingal said. "Come wi' me. I... have saved somethin' all these years, somethin' tha' I'm sure Duncan would have tossed intae a blazin' flame had he known it still existed. Follow me."
Mystified, Isla turned to Iain, who simply shook his head in response. Fingal motioned for them to follow him, pulling open Isla's chamber door.
What could he be so intent on showin' us? An' why would Duncan have wanted tae burn it?
Her mind could come up with no answer, and so she did not try. Instead, she trusted Fingal, trailing behind him quietly with Iain's hand in hers. He led them down a long stone hallway, the moonlight streaming through the windows. Isla swallowed nervously and felt Iain squeeze her hand.
When they reached Fingal's chambers, the man tugged the thick wooden door open and stepped inside. Isla had never seen the inside of the man's chambers; it was unsurprisingly modest, furnished with only a bed and one desk, stacks of parchment on top of it. Fingal moved towards the desk and tugged the last drawer open, fishing around inside for a moment.
He pulled out a small linen bag, stiff with age; she watched as his fingers felt around on the outside, ensuring that it did indeed still house the contents he expected. Satisfied, he held the tiny bag out to Isla.
With trembling fingers, she pulled the drawstring open and looked up at Fingal. His expression was much softer than she'd ever seen it before; his eyes were smiling, and she thought, if she truly looked, that his eyes were shining with emotion.
"Go on, lass," he said. " 'Tis somethin' I had saved away. Suppose even I can be sentimental."
The contents of the bag included two golden rings with a light layer of dust upon them.
"Yer parent's rings," Fingal said. "I cannae say what made me save 'em. Duncan secretly ordered the destruction o' nearly everythin' Bryant owned. Suppose it was jealousy; he wanted everythin' his brother had but couldnae stand tae gaze on it after he died. I never knew why, but I do now. I saved these because I couldnae bear tae see them melted down. Somethin' tol' me I might need 'em one day."
Isla ran her hands over the two golden rings, one slightly smaller in circumference than the other. The smaller, golden halo slipped over her finger, and she handed the second one to Iain. They each fit perfectly, and Isla felt her vision go blurry with tears.
She looked up at Fingal to see the man nodding, as though, to him, everything had finally come full circle.
"Yer parents would be proud o' ye, Isla," he said.
Isla breathed in a quavering sigh as one teardrop hit the floor between her feet. She turned the ring on her finger, feeling closer to her parents than ever before.
* * *
Iain could not seem to stand; still, it seemed. He pulled on his best linen shirt, sighing with anticipation.
He attributed all of this restlessness with his eagerness to see Isla. That morning, she had crept out of bed early to steal away into the hall. He'd felt her slide out of bed, opening one eye to see her smiling face. She was not aware that he'd spied on her, but he knew exactly where she was headed.
She mus' be headin' tae see her sisters early this mornin'. Those two are almos' as excited for today as myself or Isla!
Isla's two sisters had taken great care to organize their entire wedding, insisting Iain and his soon-to-be bride give them three days to ready the event. Isla had protested that the wedding did not need to be grand, but the two young ladies were irrepressible.
He had to admit that the castle felt much more alive with Isla and her two sisters amongst them. The three young women were much more alike than he would have thought; each one was spirited, and the days he spent around them were much brighter than his life had been in the past. Isla, too, had seemed to blossom with joy.
Each minute without Isla felt like an hour, especially today of all days, but he knew that she was likely still in one of her sister's bedchambers, getting ready. He would have to exercise his patience, but all he wanted was to see Isla and hold her in his arms. He could not wait to enfold her in his arms and plant a never-ending flurry of kisses all over her body. He sighed to himself; already, the urge to officially call her his wife had taken him over.
A knock upon his door brought him out of his thoughts.
He blinked and moved to the door to open it. His mother was smiling at him from the hallway. She beckoned him to follow her, her joy apparent in her expression.
"We have a big day ahead o' us," his mother said. "I think they're ready for ye down in the gardens, my son."
He turned to shut the door, his heart glowing at the pride and emotion shining in her eyes. Before Isla had come into his life, his mother had seemed so worried, so full of anxiety for him. It overjoyed him to see her in comfort finally, after all of these years.
"I am so proud o' ye," she said. "Isla is a perfect bride; she's such a sweet thing, an' I cannae express how happy I am fer ye this day."
Iain felt a smile touch his lips, and he looked away, unable to meet his mother's eye. If he did, his smile would only grow, and then he would be beaming all the way down to the gardens where his friends and family were gathering.
Iain barely remembered the walk to the garden; maids and servants congratulated him on his way down, and he mindlessly thanked each one in reply, but his mind was only on Isla. As Iain made his way down the stairwell, he felt his hands shaking with excitement. Soon he and Isla would be joined as one in marriage; their souls melded together by an unbreakable bond. He felt elation rise up in his heart as he pushed the main hall's door open.
With his mother trailing behind him, he rounded the corner of the stone walk leading to the gardens, Isla's favorite place in the keep. When he looked up, his breath was pulled away from him entirely.
