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As soon as she stepped from the carriage, Amelie was greeted by Pascal and Bridget. They rushed up to her and hugged her tightly. Pascal almost lifted her off her feet, he was so happy to see her.

“Amelie! I am glad ye hae arrived swiftly. I was beginning tae worry that the weather would turn and delay yer arrival. It would be wrong for us tae spend a birthday apart. I hae a grand celebration planned,” he grinned. “I hae even arranged for the kitchen tae serve some of our old favorites like croissants. I dinnae miss much from France, but a light croissant with some jam,” he licked his lips and his eyes sparkled with hunger. “It’s the taste of heaven.”

“I was worried he might start a war again. I dinnae know how people would react tae being asked tae eat foreign food. I know attitudes hae been changing around here, but there are still people who dinnae take kindly tae different things,” Bridget said, nudging Pascal playfully in the shoulder.

Pascal dismissed the concern with the wave of a hand. “If a type of bread is gaeing tae offend them, then they can just toddle off somewhere else as far as I’m concerned. Anyway, ye are looking well, how is life at the nunnery?” he asked.

Amelie nodded and then turned. She gestured towards the hamper. “From Sister Cora,” she said. Her gaze darted about furtively as the other sounds kept infringing on her mind. It was an incessant noise and she wondered how Pascal and Bridget managed to put up with it. Had the old clan always been this noisy? She supposed that back then she hadn’t been living in the heart of the keep. Orla and Hamish had their own house, so there had been some semblance of privacy. But Amelie’s favorite memories had been when she, Fleur, and Pascal had been alone together.

“Oh, this is wonderful!” Pascal turned to the hamper and opened it, finding that it contained jams, honey, herbs, some knitted fabric, as well as other bits and pieces that had been made by the nuns. “I’m glad tae hear she is feeling better, and I will send a letter back with ye tae thank her for this generosity. She really dinnae need tae dae this,” he said.

Amelie rolled her shoulders. She gazed past him to look at the castle that rose high into the sky. It was a formidable building, gray and dark, like a shadow on the landscape. However, it was not as grim as it had once been. After Pascal had been named Laird, Amelie visited the clan to enjoy the wedding and to visit the place of her mother’s birth. It was strange to think that once upon a time Dorra, their mother, had walked across this land. She might have stood in this very spot as well. Unlike Fleur and Pascal, Amelie did not have any memories of Dorra. The only thoughts of Dorra in her mind were borne from things that Pascal and Fleur had shared with her. Amelie had always felt guilty for this, but Fleur had been more of a mother figure to her than anyone else. Still, it was nice to feel a little bit connected to the person who had given birth to her and to learn more about her family history.

Pascal and Bridget had changed the mood of this clan, as well as the appearance of the castle. Instead of being so dark, as it had been once, the walls were paler and lighter, reflecting the sun. Colorful banners hung from windows, fluttering in the wind. The doors and windows were flung open as well, rather than being locked as tight as the fingers of a miser gripping a coin. People were welcome here. The ground was lush and green, the houses had been repaired, and the people were happy with full faces and full bellies. The resources of the clan had been shared with its people rather than hoarded in the keep. Inside, the pictures hanging on the wall were of natural landscapes and animals, things that the Highlands could be proud of. No longer did anyone have to stand in front of the foreboding glare of the former Laird. She had seen his portrait while it was being taken away and it had given her chills; the glowering expression, the black eyes, and the thick beard that looked as though flames were licking his face had sent chills down her spine. Amelie had never understood how Pascal and Bridget had been able to face the man himself without succumbing to terror.

Pascal noticed that she was gazing at the castle. He angled his body to stand beside her and gazed up at it himself. “It’s ours now,” he said wistfully. She noticed how he was a little taller than he had been before, and his body had filled out. His shoulders were broader, and he looked like a typical Highland warrior. He was far from the scrawny boy who had prowled the streets of Paris, with hungry eyes that scoured the market for an opportunity to steal much-needed food. “Ma would be proud,” he added.

Amelie smiled, wishing that she could feel as much of a connection with this place as he clearly did. But then Pascal had always wanted to belong and be accepted by his fellow Highlanders. He had spent his life trying to win their respect, trying to prove himself as a warrior in order to fit in. It had never been like that for Amelie though. She knew that she would never be accepted. Even if people could look past her for being born and raised in France, she would still be different because of her mutism. It was easier for everyone, including her, if she just kept to the background of life and pottered around in the nunnery.

“Come on, let’s get ye some tea and we can speak properly about life,” Pascal placed his hand on her shoulder and led her inside the keep. Bridget followed. He took her to a small sitting room. Soon enough, a servant came in with a tray of tea and some mugs. She poured the drinks and handed the cups around. The tea was sweeter than what she had in the nunnery, and it made Amelie’s lips pucker.

“I’m sorry I hae nae been tae visit ye sooner, but it hae been a busy time here. We hae an outbreak of a fever, although I’m glad tae say that everyone came out of it alive. It meant that we hae tae rearrange some of the market days, though, and merchants are nae easy people tae placate. There were also rumors of bandits in the area. I would hae gone tae find them myself, but apparently, I hae more important duties tae take care of,” Pascal rolled his eyes and looked at Bridget.

“Ye are Laird now, ye cannae be riding off intae every battle. Imagine if some ill fortune happened and ye were killed by a stray arrow from a bandit’s bow. Ye cannae take the same risks as ye used tae when ye were younger. Besides, ye know that Evan and his men are quite capable of defending the clan. He’s just like his uncle,” Bridget said.

Pascal frowned. “Hm, I think he’s a wee bit more fond of ale than Logan is, but aye, I suppose ye are right,” he sighed, evidently not wishing to debate Bridget on the matter. Amelie tried to keep track of these strange names being thrown at her. The words danced around her mind, almost as if they were taunting her, remaining elusive. She sipped her tea again, feeling the warm liquid swim over her tongue and crawl down the back of her throat.

“But things are progressing nicely,” Pascal continued. “We hae managed tae undae a lot of the damage that Angus caused. We hae fixed our reputation and made it clear that any prejudice against foreigners will nae be tolerated. Ye know people were hesitant tae trust me in those early days, but they are willing tae look past my background, because I hae filled their pockets with coin and their bellies with food. The land is in such a better state that even more flocks of animals hae come tae stay with us!” Pascal said, grinning widely as he said this. “I hae even decided tae take our old family name as my own again.”

This news startled Amelie, who looked at him directly and gave him a questioning look. He caught it immediately, having been used to noticing her emotive expressions.

“It seemed like the natural thing tae dae, both tae honor the people who came before us like Ma, as well as making sure that the people accepted me. It’s far easier for them tae pretend that I was never born in France if my name is Pascal Pressley rather than Dubois, although I dae hae tae remind them that it is Pascal, and nae Patrick,” he said, wincing as he did so.

“Still, it’s good tae keep the family name alive. It’s nae as though the Dubois name means much tae ye all, after the way yer Da treated ye,” Bridget said, and Pascal nodded knowingly. Amelie felt heat rising to her cheeks. She may never have had much affinity for her father, but the name had bonded her with Pascal and Fleur. It was something they had all shared, but Fleur had relinquished her name when she had married Lachlan, and now Pascal had released it as well. She was the only Dubois left, and it made her feel strangely alone. Before she could say anything about it, though, the conversation had already moved on.

“Sometimes I feel like sae much hae happened that an entire lifetime hae passed,” Pascal said after he had finished telling her about everything that had happened. “What about ye, Amelie? How is life in the nunnery?”

Amelie looked blankly at him for a few moments. Her lower lip protruded and then she looked down into the tea, watching the gentle ripples as she tilted the cup from side to side. She shrugged. “Naething out of the ordinary,” she said, and that was all she could offer. There were no grand events or tragedies. There were only her duties and her routines, her prayers and her slumber. Each day was like the one before. Amelie enjoyed this routine and took solace in it. She liked knowing that the days ahead would not produce any surprises, but it did not make for exciting conversation and she felt bad that she did not have much to offer Pascal. Still, she was glad to see that Pascal was happy, even though it felt like she knew him less and less.

There was a knock at the door. A messenger appeared and told Pascal that he was needed. It was something to do with the feast. Pascal shot her an apologetic look and assured her that he would be back again soon so they could speak more. He kissed her on both cheeks before he left, and then kissed Bridget on the mouth.

Bridget followed him as he walked out of the room, and then turned to face Amelie.

“It is remarkable how much hae changed since he became Laird. I always thought things were gaeing tae take longer. I know ye dinnae know this place before him, but it’s like a different world. People hae smiles on their faces and they are much nicer tae each other. They dinnae need tae worry about their food being stolen, or about guards threatening them as they gae about their business. Yer brother is a great man. I’m sae pleased tae see him somewhere he belongs.” She paused for a moment. “Sometimes he confides in me and says that he dinnae know if he deserves all of this. I think a part of him still thinks he is that beggar boy in Paris, always being turned away. I keep reminding him that this was always the position he was destined tae hold. He was born for this, and he should nae think otherwise. He always had greatness within him, and now it is time for him tae see that. Sometimes I wish he could see himself the way that I can see him, and the way that ye see him tae. I know that he hae always been yer hero,” Bridget said.

Amelie smiled and nodded. It wasn’t quite the same thing though. Amelie had never thought of Pascal being a Laird and ruling over other people. To her, he had simply been her brother, someone who kept her company, made her laugh and helped to ensure she would never go hungry.

“I’m glad he’s happy,” Amelie mumbled. Her smile shook on her face and she placed her empty cup of tea back onto the tray. A moment of silence lingered, one that stretched and twisted in the air between them. Amelie knew Bridget somewhat from Bridget’s stay in the nunnery, and she considered Bridget a friend, despite them not having spent much time together. Amelie had always been content with silence, but there was a strained look on Bridget’s face.

“I’m glad tae see ye again outside of the nunnery. Ye know ye are always welcome tae come and stay with us. This is yer home as much as it is any of ours, and there is always a place for ye here. After everything happened I thought ye might hae chosen tae come and live with Pascal again. I can understand why ye would nae, I mean, the nunnery is a very peaceful place, but still… I want ye tae know that this can be yer home tae.”

Amelie bowed her head, but she wasn’t sure that would ever be the case. That place was strange and foreign to her. It was different, and nobody knew her there. Even Pascal was acting differently from what Amelie was used to, and it was probably better that she allowed him to get on with his new life. She had been a burden to him for long enough.

“The nunnery is quiet. I like quiet,” she said, the words imbued with the deeper meaning she felt inside, although she wasn’t sure that Bridget understood the depths of her emotions.

“Well, just as long as ye know,” Bridget flashed a wider smile. “I can tell that life in the nunnery is agreeing with ye, though. Ye are looking well, although with yer new hair ye are looking less like yer sister. I dae like it though, it suits ye.”

Amelie reached up and touched the chopped hair that rested just under the base of her scalp. It was the color of straw and still thick. She had cut it mostly because it kept getting in her eyes and swaying near her mouth. She found herself pushing it back again and again, and so decided eventually that it was just easier to cut it back entirely. The fact that she now resembled Fleur less was a good thing, in her eyes. She had always lived under Fleur’s shadow. Fleur was the pretty one, the outgoing one, the vivacious one. Even though Amelie adored Fleur, there was a sliver of envy running through her heart. There had been times when people assumed that Amelie would be exactly like her older sister and had expressed surprise when that had not been the case. Amelie had always been compared with Fleur and was always found inferior in every way, aside from perhaps her piety. Amelie was acutely aware that she was burdened and damaged, so she had to be different from her sister.

She rose from her seat and gave Bridget a hug to thank her sister-in-law for the kind words. Bridget then smiled and said that she had other news for Amelie.

“I will show ye tae yer room now. There is a surprise waiting for ye. I dinnae expect ye tae bring anything fancy with ye from the nunnery, but since this is yer birthday celebration as well as Pascal’s, I thought ye should be dressed for the occasion. While I’m sure yer smock is functional and comfortable, it’s hardly stylish. I hae left a dress for ye in yer room, as well as some jewelry. I’m sure ye will look fabulous in it.”

Amelie began to shake her head, but Bridget clasped Amelie’s hands tightly. “It’s a gift Amelie, from me tae ye. Even if ye only wear it for one evening, I hope that it will be an evening ye always remember.”

Amelie hugged her again to express her thanks as she walked into her chamber and looked at the dress and the sparkling accessories. The dress was cut from red cloth. It was a striking color. It was long and flowing and felt soft in her fingers. She dreaded to think about how much it cost. It was probably the most expensive thing that she had ever owned, and she couldn’t believe that Bridget would spend so much on her. She sat on the bed, stroking the soft dress with one hand, and her other hand resting on the hard slate. It was like being in another world for a time, and she began to feel dizzy. These things that Bridget had gifted her with were things that some other girl should wear, a girl who knew how to smile and flutter her eyes, who could walk with grace and elegance, who knew how to exist in the world of romance. She thought they would be wasted on her, but perhaps for a night, she could pretend to be someone different.