Ava laughed again and darted up two steps before pausing just long enough to let him think he had gained ground. He scrambled after her, his nails scratching stone, his eyes determined like those of a hunting hound despite the fact that he was no bigger than a well-fed loaf.
“Almost,” she told him. “A heroic effort.”
A footman flattened himself against the wall and shook his head as she passed. Ava tossed him a cheerful smile and kept on.
She knew every corner of the castle well enough to move through it without thought. She knew where the light from the narrow windows struck the floors in the late afternoons and which nooks could hide anyone, no matter their size.
Bruce reached her at last at the landing outside her father’s study and sank his tiny teeth into the hem of her skirt.
“There ye are,” Ava said, scooping him up before he could claim proper victory. “A savage beast. A terror of the Highlands. Shall I warn me father?”
Bruce wriggled in her arms, offended by the capture but pleased enough by the attention that he did not resist overmuch.
Ava pressed a kiss to the top of his head and pushed open the study door with her hip, still smiling.
Her smile faltered at once.
Her best friend, Isobel, sat at her father’s desk with papers spread before her in neat, troubling order. There were letters stacked to one side, a list unfolded in front of her, and a small pot of ink near her hand. She was bent over the page with such rapt focus that for a moment, she did not even look up.
Ava stayed by the door. The room felt different from the passageway behind her.It feltstill.
“Well,” she said lightly, “ye look less like a guest and more like a steward preparing for war.”
That made Isobel raise her head, but the smile that came was late and thin. “Do I?”
“Aye.” Ava crossed the room slowly, with Bruce tucked against her. “And since ye are in me father’s study, looking whiter than usual, I must assume something is amiss.”
Isobel set down the quill. “I am making a list.”
“I can see that.” Ava came to the desk and looked down at the crossed-off lines.
Trunks.
Clothing.
Letters to send.
Stops along the road.
“The more alarming matter is why.”
Isobel’s fingers rested on the edge of the page. “Because I must soon return home.”
Ava blinked at her. The words did not make sense at first. They sat between them like some misplaced object, familiar in shape and yet wholly wrong in this room.
“Return home,” she repeated.
Isobel nodded.
Bruce gave a soft snuffle against Ava’s arm.
Ava stared at her friend, waiting for the grin, the jest, the explanation that would make it all small again. But none came.
“What do ye mean,returnhome?”
“To me brother. To me castle.” Isobel’s voice was gentle, but there was weight under it now. “I cannae remain here much longer.”
Ava drew a breath that felt oddly sharp in her chest. “Ye’ve stayed with us for more than a decade.”
