“Well, I have Arya and Colby, right?” River pointed out. “I daenae need anyone else.”
Arya and Colby beamed at her, and Colby fell into her arms. Then, he looked up at her and asked, “River...how are bairns made?”
Instantly, Finlay almost choked on his own spit as he tried to suppress his laughter.
Thankfully, River didn’t have to answer that question, as there was a knock on the door, and in walked a servant to announce that Archer had requested her presence in the Great Hall.
The moment the announcement was made, River glanced at Finlay, and they both wore the same look of concern on their faces.
What could he want?
“I’ll come with ye,” said Finlay immediately, which was no surprise for anyone. Whoever River went, Finlay followed, and she was glad for it—especially now that she didn’t know what Archer could possibly want. He wouldn’t dare do something toher in front of everyone in the Great Hall, she was certain of it. And yet, Finlay’s presence by her side as they walked there was the only thing that kept her calm.
Just as she was about to reach the great doors that separated the Great Hall from the rest of the castle, Archer appeared before her like an apparition, and River cursed under her breath. The man was like a shadow when he wanted to be, appearing and disappearing seemingly out of thin air.
“Me Laird,” Finlay greeted him with a bow. “We heard our lady was to be summoned to the Great Hall.”
Archer’s eyes narrowed when Finlay was the one to do the talking. “Aye,” he said. “I called for her.”
“Could we ken why?”
Archer didn’t respond to Finlay’s question, as if he was trying to make a statement with his silence—I willnae speak to ye. I will only speak to me wife.His gaze turned to River and she had to fight the urge to shrink under it, to feel like a scolded child.
“I heard that ye sent away two of our maids,” he said, and River wondered if she was in deep trouble for doing so.
She had only done what she thought was right, but could she explain that to Archer? Could she make him understand how cruelly they had treated Layla right in front of her eyes? Or would he simply not care at all?
She decided right then and there that it didn’t matter. She was the Lady of the Clan, and though many seemed to have forgotten it—including herself—she had every right to do what she thought was best for the household.
She wasn’t afraid to defend her actions.
“Aye, I did,” she said, lifting her chin in defiance as she prepared to listen to whatever lecture was to follow. “They were both mean and cruel, and the castle is better off without them.”
Archer gave her a curious look, as if he hadn’t expected this reaction. He hummed softly, as if to himself, tilting his head to the side like a curious owl as he regarded her.
“As I understand it, ye werenae involvin’ yerself in household matters up until now,” he said. “At least this is what everyone has told me here.”
It was only natural that Archer had received reports on everything she did and didn’t do around the castle, but the knowledge that people were talking behind her back about her left a bitter taste in her mouth. Had she let everyone down by never participating in the daily matters of the household? Did everyone consider her a useless Lady of the Clan?
It wouldn’t surprise her. But those people didn’t know what happened behind closed doors. No matter how fast gossip traveled in a castle, Archer would never let anyone know things that could put him into a disadvantaged position—including thefact that he refused to have an heir with his wife and barely ever even saw her.
People had their theories; of course they did. None of them dared speak them out loud.
“It’s true,” River admitted. “I wasnae very involved, but I couldnae stand back and watch as they were insultin’ the poor lass. She had done naethin’ wrong and I stand by me decision to send them away.”
She wasn’t going to show any weakness in front of Archer or the other people around them—the clansmen and women who had been walking about, now pretending they weren’t lingering by the Great Hall just to listen to them, the guards, the maids and servants that milled about. If Archer wanted to scold her for this, he could do as he pleased; River would stand her ground.
“Have ye changed yer mind, then?” Arche asked. “About nay bein’ involved?”
River wasn’t sure how to answer that question, and so she hesitated for a long time. She wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of taking care of the entire household. She had only tried to save one girl from the harassment she was receiving, but she didn’t know why Archer was asking.
“Come with me,” Archer said when she didn’t respond. River glanced over her shoulder at Finlay, who took a step closer to her, his hand drifting to his sword. It was a bad habit, and one that she had tried to expel from him, but he found some comfortin the hilt of his blade, in the shape of it in his hand, as if he knew that as long as his sword was there, there was nothing to worry about.
As Archer spoke, he turned on his heel and took the few steps to the doors of the Great Hall. Even from outside, River could hear voices drifting through the crack under the door, and it sounded to her as if there were many people behind it—too many, in fact, for the crowd she was used to in the castle.
At the wave of Archer’s hand, two guards who were standing before the doors opened them—only to reveal a large crowd of people, most of them merchants and peasants, all of them loud as they waited. It took River a few moments to realize why she had been summoned, but as she stared at the crowd, it dawned on her.
She was the Lady of the Clan. And she was there to listen to her people.
