It’s strange, for so long, I had wanted more out of our relationship, and now it suddenly feels like that might be coming true.
We follow her through the massive, arched wooden door clad in iron. Lachlan does not heed her warning very well as he clasps our hands together. The action brings a swarm of butterflies to my stomach, chasing away any lingering anxiety and replacing it with a newfound, bubbling excitement.
Chaos ensues, however, as we step into the foyer.
Servants briskly attend their tasks, some holding stacks of firewood or carrying trays of food, and warriors stride down halls and into various rooms. By the looks of it, some are coming and going from training, their weapons gleaming and their leathers coated in dirt.
The Great Hall had always felt empty, but this place is abuzz with activity and an undercurrent of excitement. People smile and nod to us as we continue to follow Agatha, who points out various halls, rooms, and art adorning the walls. My mind flits from one thing to the next as we walk quickly to keep pace behind her, winding our way through the halls and out the back of the castle.
“These are our training grounds.” She turns towards us, pride emanating from her.
The grounds are a mirror image of the training grounds from the Great Hall, but twice the size and packed with people.
There are groups sparring, running through an elaborate obstacle course, and several target stations with warriors practicing knife throwing, archery, and spear throwing. My jaw drops as I take it all in. This is what training should look like. They are all ferocious and shockingly organized as they flitfrom station to station, managing to work on several techniques in the same session without encroaching on each other’s space.
A similar archway stretches across the opening of the grounds, connecting the fence. Lachlan leans close, pointing to the words carved into the wood.
“Train with honor, and you will not die with shame.” His voice tickles my ear.
My muscles itch to join them and blow off the building steam. I take a few steps closer to the grounds, feeling drawn to it, before a gentle tug on my hand halts me.
Concern lights Lachlan’s eyes, and he, not too subtly, looks towards my injured side. “Maybe give it one more day, Key,” he says gently.
I know he would support my choice either way, but his concern is still comforting. My body craves a physical challenge to dull the edge of anxiety, but if I accidentally stumble on my first day in the ring, it would be catastrophic to my already precarious reputation. Slowly nodding my agreement to Lachlan, I turn to face Agatha.
“Do you mind showing me to my room? I think I’ll need some rest after our journey.”
She smiles kindly at me, not a hint of displeasure in my decision to rest instead of immediately training, “Of course, my dear, right this way.” She turns and heads back to the castle.
Agatha leads me to my room, which is located on the third floor of the south wing and overlooks the grounds. She swings open the door with a knowing smile and ushers me inside.
“This was your mother’s room,” she says with a nod to the fireplace. Just above the mantel hangs a large oil painting of my mother with the wings I never knew she had.
“My mother’s room?” I question, my brows furrowing.
Agatha nods. “This is your ancestral home, from the first of your line down all the way down to you.”
I turn back and take in the room with the new understanding.The door clicks shut behind me, leaving me all alone. I spend a few moments memorizing the painting of my mother and giving myself time to grieve this new version of her I never got to know, but lost all the same.
Tears spill down my cheeks when I think about all the things she’s missed so far. It hurts knowing she’ll never see me here. That she’ll never walk these islands with me or see me fly.
She’s the reason I’m here, and now she’s gone.
I wish more than anything that she could be here. I wish she had told me about all of this. But above all, I wish she were here to give me advice.
I know in my bones what she would say, “You have to keep going, keep fighting, and listen to your heart. See this through.” But there’s a difference between knowing what she would say and actually hearing the words come from her lips. Seeing her mean the words with her expression and making me believe them, too.
The clashes and thuds of the warriors training outside break through my grief, and my chest rises and falls with elation, chasing away the sadness. This is the right path. I can feel it deep down in my heart that this is what we’re supposed to be doing. I have finally found my purpose.
I take a look around at the high-ceilinged room decorated with rich mahogany furniture. Dark-burgundy curtains frame the bay windows, and an elaborate rug takes up much of the floor space between my bed and the sitting area surrounding the fireplace.
It smells of cinnamon and vanilla, the scent reminding me of my mom.
A small knock on the door draws my attention away, and I open it to find Lachlan leaning on the doorframe. His smile drops as he takes in my tear-streaked face.
“Are ye okay?” he asks, assessing the room behind me for any threats.
I step out of the way and point to the painting. Relief washes over his rigid posture, and he comes to stand in front of me, cupping my face in his hands.
