Moira smiled mischievously, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, ye see, Fiona’s skill with a bow and arrow is no secret in our clan or any of our allies. She’s been honing her craft since she could walk, and she’s never been bested in a contest yet.”
Ailis nodded. “Aye, Fiona has a natural talent that surpasses any man’s. She doesn’t just aim for the target. She becomesone with the bow, the arrow, and the wind itself. It’s a sight to behold.”
Lucas’s brows furrowed in disbelief. “Surely ye jest! A lass besting seasoned warriors with years of training?”
“I find it hard to believe that a woman could outshoot us, skilled as we are,” Bearnard chimed in skeptically.
Horas, the most reserved of the three suitors, shook his head. “She did best all three of us.”
They exchanged glances, a mixture of admiration and apprehension evident in their eyes.
Moira leaned forward, her stare challenging as she addressed the men. “Ye see, Fiona’s prowess with the bow is not merely about hitting a target. It symbolizes her spirit, her determination, and her unyielding strength. She embodies the essence of the Highlands—wild, untamed, and free.”
Ailis nodded in agreement, her voice soft but unwavering. “She fights not just for herself but for our family, for our clan. And when she draws that bowstring back, she doesn’t just release an arrow. She declares who she is and what she stands for.”
Lucas, Bearnard, and Horas observed the subtle exchange between the McAfee sisters, their initial reservations softening into an unspoken reverence. The realization dawned on them that winning the hearts of Ailis and Moira was intricately tied to understanding and valuing the bond they shared with Fiona—a bond that transcended mere sisterhood.
Moira smiled at Ailis. “Ye see, none of us have the same mother, but instead, we were raised by only a father who was determined to raise three women who could act as one. And we can.”
Ailis nodded. “Our love for one another is more than it would be had we all shared one mother. We had to lean on one another because all our mothers passed when we were born.”
Moira grinned. “I cannae wait until the knife-throwing on the morrow. That one will be fun.”
“Will ye compete, Moira?” Horas asked.
Moira shook her head. “Nay. I’m competent at knife-throwing, but me sister is much better than me. Ailis will be the sister to beat at the knife-throwing.”
The men gawped at the woman in front of them, the one they’d danced with all the previous evening. “Ye are trying to say that Ailis can outthrow men with a knife?” Lucas cried.
“Ye’ll have to wait and see, won’t ye?” Ailis sipped the wine in front of her. The men would see. They would all see.
She shared a glance with Moira, and Moira grinned slightly. They both knew how the contest would go the following day, and they were excited for it. It was time the three lairds’ sons who had been annoying them for two days realized they weren’t the best in the world at everything.
