If their words affected James, he showed no sign of it. Not once did he respond with a smile or flinch when someone hurled something at Taryn. His hands stayed steady on the reins as he guided them through the small town and towards the castle that had once been her home.
Once upon a time, she had seen the stone-faced building as a menacing prison where she was expected to look and act a certain way, never putting down her guard. It was a fortress to her, one that kept her locked inside and the world so far away. Now, as she stared up at it from the saddle, James’ arms half tucked around her fending off the cold, all she could see were the crumbling rocks and the roof that was in desperate need of repair. The McGregor Castle was sad and old, having taken quite the beating from her years of absence and the constant attacks from the baron.
“I never imagined…” she started to say, a hand half covering her opened mouth. “I did nae ken things had gotten so bad. I-I dinnae ken; otherwise I would have come back.”
“Well, now ye ken. What are ye going to do about it?”
“I told ye,” she answered, steeling herself. “I will do whatever I must to ensure Laura is returned safely, and the clan is left to rebuild.”
James hummed as if he were truly considering her answer for the first time, as if it had taken until now for him to truly believe that she wanted to do the right thing.
“Taryn, I?—”
The wide wooden doors to the castle swung open, cutting off whatever James was going to say next. There was a hint of regret, perhaps even sadness, in the way he had said her name, but she didn’t have time to think about that now. Standing on the highest steps of the courtyard were her uncle and her parents.
She had thought about this moment countless times over the years she had been gone. She had always wondered if her parents would greet her with open arms filled with relief, or if they would cry tears of joy. From their stony faces and crossed arms, she no longer had to wonder. Fury and irritation were to be her welcome. It was no less than what she deserved, but it still stung.
“Take her to the hall,” Laird McGregor ordered as soon as James’ horse was within earshot.
The guard that had been surrounding him moved as a unit to pull her out of the saddle. Two hands gripped each arm so tightly that she was sure there would be bruises. She was grateful for them nonetheless; without those men holding her up, she would have tumbled to the ground as soon as her feet hit the icy cobblestone. Her hands still tied in front of her made her an easy enough puppet to pull around. She didn’t bother putting up afight, no matter how much her pride screamed at her to demand better treatment.
Knowing without question that his orders would be carried out, her uncle, Laird McGregor, spun on his heel and marched into the castle. Her parents followed quickly after, sending her a look of disdain as they turned. With the guards all but carrying her, Taryn had no choice but to obey.
The foyer was missing the warm, colorful rug that had once greeted guests and the large paintings of their ancestors from long ago. There were empty hooks on the walls where other paintings, swords, and other artifacts had been taken down until the entire space was nearly bare. Every hallway, every room they passed looked much the same. She was nearly expecting for the Great Hall to be bereft too, a testament to just how far things had gone. But when the guards pushed her down the two little steps that signaled the entrance of the Great Hall, she was surprised that very little had changed.
There were a few less tables and the floors felt a bit dirtier than she knew her mother preferred. The candles in the candelabra overhead were nearly melted down, but those were the only signs that anything was amiss. The coat of arms still hung over the massive fireplace. She took in the large tree, the small acorns hidden in the branches, and its thick, curved roots that made up the center of the image. A sword went through the tree that matched the blue and yellow feathers of the helmet that sat proudly over the shield. Wood was still stacked neatly beside the hearth. Someone had even gone through the trouble of spreading some pine needles down the length of the tables for festive cheer. But that wasn’t what caught her eye.
In the center of the room was a large chair, ornately carved with symbols and scrolls she had long ago been taught the meaning of. Her uncle sat, his shoulders not as straight and tall as they once had been, but still just as stately. On either sideof him stood her parents. Each one of them was still clothed in rich fabrics of deep colors, though they seemed to be a few years old. Jewels hanging from her mother’s neck glimmered in the firelight, while her uncle and father sported several gemstone rings.
The guards, ever vigilant in carrying out their duties, deposited Taryn to the space in front of the throne. Their hands uncurled from around the tops of her arms and she nearly fell over. A startled grunt came from somewhere behind her and a split second later, James was at her side, steadying her. His touch was exceedingly more gentle than the guards’, but caused an ache all the same. She gave him a resolute nod, surprised to find uncertainty in his rich green eyes.
“James,” the Laird spoke. “I thank ye for the service ye have done for yer clan. I will see to it that ye are rewarded accordingly. Now, yer duty is finished. Step aside so we may deal with this traitor.”
Hesitantly, for only a second, James looked first at Laird McGregor and then at her. Whatever he was searching for, he must have found it as he let go and moved several yards away, though stayed in the room.
“How dare ye,” her mother began.
In all her years, Taryn had heard mother angry on numerous occasions. She had been icy and direct, unfeeling and unforgiving. But never had her mother spoken with such venom. Those three little words struck directly to Taryn’s core, rattling her more than she cared to admit. The Laird’s hand shot up, effectively silencing her mother, but somehow, Taryn knew whatever he had to say would be worse.
“Ye are, without a doubt, the most selfish, vain, thoughtless creature I have ever had the misfortune of kenning.”
She winced with nearly every word, each of them landing like a blow.
“I have treated ye as if ye were my own, clothing ye, housing ye, seeing to yer education, all so ye would be fit to be my heir. From the moment ye were born, we all made sure ye kent that yer singular role in this clan was to secure the future for everyone.”
Taryn kept her mouth shut, biting her tongue so hard that a metallic taste ran down her throat.
“And then, when the moment finally came, when it was time for ye to do what ye have been preparing for yer entire life, ye leave. Ye decide to be unbelievably selfish and run away for nay reason at all other than yer own desires.
I did nae realize my desire to live was so wrong.
Taryn wasn’t given the chance to voice her thoughts. Instead, her father stepped forward and started his beratements.
“Did ye nae stop to think of what this would do to us? Yer running away made yer mother and I look as though we were nae capable of raising an obedient child. Ye made us out to be fools. Nae to mention all the trouble this has caused the rest of the clan.”
There was no love in her father’s eyes. If there was any gladness for their reunification, it was only so that they could put a stop to the chaos. It had very little to do with her as their daughter, as a person.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, silently absorbing the blows they dealt with their words. It felt like hours. Yet, they hardly spoke of the suffering of the clan. There was no mention of the raids or the attacks. They spoke mainly of their reputations, their pride, and the infringement of their lifestyle.
