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The ambiance of the keep was far different in the morning from what it had been the night before. Like the people who inhabited the castle, it was languorous and fatigued. The air was palpable with exhaustion, as though a mist had fallen across the clan. Some wizard might have come in the night and cast a spell upon them, making them sluggish and weary. There were groans emanating from every nook and cranny as people nursed their heads. As Amelie passed the doors, she heard loud snores from behind them. People were resting well, gathering their strength after a hefty night of feasting. It was the same outside as well. She peeked out of the windows and saw people slumped on the ground, as though they were fallen soldiers on a battlefield. The fires had long died down and the ground was scattered with ash. She recognized some of the men who had been contesting their strength just hours before. Now they leaned against each other like brothers, their heads so close Amelie wondered if they were sharing dreams.

The scent of bread, cheese, and cooked meat filled the air. As if there hadn’t been enough food the previous night, people were enjoying a hearty breakfast. The servants and maids had no chance to rest as they rushed about the castle, trying to keep it in some sort of order lest the clan be tainted with a reputation for debauchery. There were a few people who seemed to have been speaking during the entire night, and Amelie found her thoughts drifting to the mysterious man again. Had he spent the night in the company of that vile woman? Did they share intimate secrets and fond memories, or even worse, had they tumbled about under the bedsheets?

Despite her insistence that she should stop thinking about him, she found that he intruded upon her mind. She hoped that once she was away from this castle thoughts about him would fade as well. That must have been it, she decided. This castle was the source of all her woes. It was giving her a glimpse of a life that she could not have, and all she really needed was to return to the nunnery and give herself to the peace that could be found there. The temptation of thinking about a husband would not be as strong once she was there, nor would it seem as important. There would certainly be no Fleur trying to imply that Amelie should think about starting a family.

Amelie rounded a corner and walked through the open doors of the chamber. It was far less crowded than it had been the previous night, but her family was present, cheery-faced and happy. She blushed a little, fearing they might admonish her for rushing away from the feast and promptly disappearing. There was no band any longer. They were enjoying their hard-earned rest. Their instruments remained though, silent until their strings were plucked.

And then Amelie saw him. Her breath caught in her throat and she almost stumbled, so shocked was she to see him there, sitting next to her brother. It was as though he had marched right out of her thoughts to wait there for her.

“Amelie! I hae something for ye,” Pascal said, beckoning her over with a wave of his hand. His eyes were bloodshot, but other than that he seemed to be suffering no ill effects from the rigors of the previous night. However, for once Amelie wasn’t looking at him too closely. Her attention was drawn to the man beside him. His head turned to face her, following Pascal’s pronouncement. He seemed just as surprised to see her. There was a flicker of a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. His features were strong and hard, as though they had been chipped away by a sculptor with utter precision until everything was symmetrical. His eyes were set deep into his face and he bore an intense glare, while his nose was large, his cheeks broad, and his lips full of life. He was even more handsome than she remembered. She had seen him in a rush, and then the night had cloaked his appearance. It was no wonder that women had called him to them, for he seemed to be the perfect epitome of a man, one who embodied the qualities that were most associated with them. There was no doubt of his strength. It coiled within him, and it gave her a primal sense of intrigue, as though she was drawn to a bright, burning flame from which she could not turn away.

Suddenly, she was standing before him. Her mouth was dry, and she suspected that even if she had been used to speaking she would have found it difficult to form words at that moment. Thankfully, Pascal caught her attention.

“I was sorry tae see ye rush off like that last night. I apologize if I made things difficult for ye. I know ye dinnae like attention and I should nae hae dragged ye in front of everyone. I just wanted tae share yer birthday with them, that’s all,” he spoke in a rueful tone and she knew that he had only attempted to be kind. She reached out and squeezed the arm of her brother, letting him know that everything was well. He smiled apologetically and then reached behind him. “Ye left this here last night. I made sure tae keep it safe for ye,” he presented her with her slate and chalk. Upon seeing it, Amelie was filled with utmost relief and she clutched it tightly, pressing it close to her abdomen. Emotion washed through her, as though she had been reunited with a loved one.

“I hope ye hae fun anyway, at least while ye were here. And I know this was a wee bit more crowded than ye would hae preferred, but I’m glad we were able tae spend our birthday taegether.”

Amelie took out her chalk and began writing on the slate, feeling more comfortable without being pressured to talk.

Next year you can come to the nunnery, she wrote and showed the sign to Pascal. His eyes danced over the words and then he laughed wholeheartedly. The man beside him craned his neck in an effort to see what Amelie had written. She sheepishly showed him, and he chuckled as well.

“Yer sister hae a good sense of humor,” he said. Amelie blushed at the compliment and averted her gaze, turning instead to the food in front of her. She was delighted to see that the plum sauce was present again. While it wasn’t perhaps the simplest breakfast food and was better served with an extravagant dinner, she was relieved to have a second chance. Besides, she thought to herself, she was not going to get the chance to have some plum sauce when she returned to the nunnery, and since it was her birthday she deserved to at least have a little treat. Unfortunately, the curse of the night before seemed to be continuing. When she reached for it she was a moment too late, as the man beside her smacked his lips together and pulled it towards him, serving himself a hefty dollop. Amelie receded, disappointment clouding her face.

But then he turned to her. “Oh, I’m sorry, did ye want some?” he asked, offering her the small bowl. Amelie smiled widely and inclined her head with thanks as he scooped some out and left a dollop on her plate. She took some cheese and bread, dipping them in the thick, dark sauce. The moment it touched her lips she felt as though she had been reborn. Her tongue was alive as the tantalizing taste popped in her mouth. If anyone ever needed proof of God’s grace then all they had to do was enjoy a mouthful of plum sauce, she thought.

“Amelie, I’d like ye tae meet Evan McPherson. He’s the Captain of my Guard. Dae ye remember Logan? This is his nephew,” Pascal explained.

Amelie did indeed remember the guard who had once accompanied Bridget to the nunnery. He had been a gentleman, and she wondered if Evan shared that characteristic. He seemed young to be the Captain of the Guard, but Pascal must have trusted him to appoint him to such a pivotal position.

“It’s a pleasure tae see ye again,” he said with a quick smile, angling his body towards her. Amelie nodded and reached for her slate.

And you.

As she did this, Bridget and Fleur entered. Fleur gave a merry, soaring laugh and the air seemed to glow around her. Amelie was certain that whatever attention Evan was paying to her would quickly shift to Fleur, for how could any man not appreciate her beauty? Fleur had only gotten more beautiful with age, the years lived lending confidence to her that Amelie knew she would never possess. However, Evan didn’t shift his position and did not give more than a passing glance to Amelie’s sister.

Bridget, Fleur, and the children joined them at the table and a conversation soon erupted into life. They spoke mainly about the previous night, reliving humorous moments and sharing news about other people who had gotten involved in shenanigans and escapades. Amelie shrank back, preparing to disappear into silence as she usually did when a loud conversation happened, but Evan continued speaking to her.

“Pascal told me that ye live in a nunnery. How does the castle compare tae that? Did ye like the feast last night? I’m glad that everyone hae a good time. Yer brother was worried that someone might cause trouble, but it seems as though those days are behind us. I might be the luckiest captain in the clan’s history,” he smirked, and then a hint of concern came upon his face. “And did ye sleep well?”

The questions came thick and fast, and Amelie had no idea where she was supposed to begin or end. Her hand hovered over the slate as she contemplated what to write. Was she supposed to tell him that she suffered from a nightmare and was only calmed when thoughts of him had entered her mind? Should she say that the nunnery was far more peaceful and quiet than this noisy keep and that she hated when night fell because nobody seemed to know that the night was supposed to be a gentle time for reflection and prayer? And was she supposed to apologize for running away when he asked her to dance…

Yes. She wrote simply and then gave him a look. You need to go slower.

Evan nodded and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I tend tae dae that when I’m excited.” There was something lurking in his eyes, although she almost dared not think that it was true. Was it possible that she was the reason for his excitement? It made her heart flutter. She rubbed out the chalk and then wrote again.

The castle is loud. Hard to sleep. Especially last night.She prided herself on her handwriting, but she was also conscious of the fact that people wanted her to hurry along, so she usually rushed, sometimes making her words look more like a scrawl.

Evan nodded. “Aye, I suppose it must hae been a shock compared tae a nunnery, although I would nae know that myself. I hae never been tae one.”

Why?

Evan’s face twisted and he considered his words. “I dinnae think I am the type of person tae enjoy what a nunnery hae tae offer. It dinnae seem like the place for a warrior,” he rolled his shoulders.

Even warriors need moments of peace.

“Aye, ye are probably right,” he said after taking a moment to read what she had written. “Perhaps I should come and visit someday if I ever get the time. Being the captain is far more work than just a mere guard.”