Chapter 11
Emeric ground his teeth, trying not to let his discomfort show. He’d kept the smile fixed on his face for so long that his jaw was beginning to ache.
“Good evening to ye too,” he said, inclining his head to the mother and daughter who’d come to speak to him.
The daughter giggled and the mother yanked her forward, so Emeric was forced to step back to avoid being trodden on.
“Ye remember our Eloise, aye?” the woman asked.
“Aye,” Emeric lied. “Of course I do. And a fine young woman she’s turned into.”
“That she has,” the woman said. “And she’s marrying age now as well.”
“Is she?” Emeric said, keeping his smile fixed in place. “Then some young lad is going to be mighty lucky. Please, enjoy the feast.”
The two women shuffled past him and took their place at one of the long tables in the great hall. The place was busy, busier than he’d seen it for many a year—and all for him.
He hated it. His mother and sister might claim the feast was to welcome him home, but it felt more like its purpose was to parade him around like some trophy. Everyone in thecastle had been invited, and some from the village as well. He’d greeted more people and had more slaps on the back in the last hour or so than he could remember.
Curse it. His commander, Kai Stewart, would have loved all the attention. He was outgoing and confident and would have lapped up the accolades like fine wine. But Emeric did not. He didn’t like it and he didn’t deserve it.
His mother glided over, her warm smile lighting up her face as she softly touched his cheek. “My son,” she said, her voice thick with emotion that mirrored what he saw in her teary eyes. “I am so happy ye are home.”
Emeric forced a smile, then embraced his mother tightly, holding onto her as if she was his lifeline. A part of him wanted to confess, to apologize for the years of neglect, to explain the reason. But another part feared that it might shatter this illusion of a happy family and reveal the harsh reality underneath.
“Come sit with me.”
He followed her to the head table where Aislinn was already waiting and lowered himself onto the bench. He glanced around the bustling hall, taking in the faces of those around him. There was Old Fergus with his misty eyes, leaning heavily onto his gnarled walking stick, and Young Dougal, who had grown into a strapping lad full of fire and ambition.
He took a deep breath, his chest tightening with regret. He’d escaped this life once before, heading for a place where he wouldn’t have to live up to his family’s lofty expectations. But now, dragged back into the claustrophobic world he’d once fled, Emeric felt like he was drowning.
The hall was almost full, but one person was missing. Eyes skipping over the guests, Emeric found himself searching for Anna, but she was nowhere in sight.
Then he heard her laugh and she stepped through the doorway—but she wasn’t alone. One of the castle guardsman walked with her, a strapping young man by the name of Hector.
Emeric’s insides tightened. Why was she with him?
Anna looked around, met Emeric’s gaze across the sea of people and waved a hand in greeting, a wide smile curling her lips. He forced himself to nod, then watched as the two of them made their way to one of the long tables, talking and laughing all the while. He gritted his teeth and braced his hands on the table, resisting the urge to go storming over there. The door at the back of the hall suddenly opened, and everyone turned their attention in that direction. Emeric’s uncle, laird Douglas Mackintosh strode in.
Clad in a heavy plaid in the colors of their clan and wearing a stern expression, his stride was powerful and commanding. People parted as he made his way to the head table, but he did not sit. Instead, he lifted a goblet and waited for the room to hush.
“Ladies and gentlemen, kin and friends,” he began, his low voice echoing through the hall. “We gather tonight to celebrate the return of my nephew, Emeric.”
A cheer went up around the hall. Emeric forced a smile, but felt like a cornered beast.
“Now let’s feast to our hearts’ content!”
A loud cheer echoed through the hall again as servants scurried in with loaded trays of food that were quicklydistributed amongst the tables. The scent of roasted boar, fresh bread, and late summer berries wafted through the hall, mingling with the smoky aroma of the massive fireplaces that lined the walls.
His uncle sat down beside him and began piling his plate high with meat and ale-soaked bread. Emeric’s own appetite seemed to have vanished. The unease gnawing at his insides left no room for food.
“Ye look like ye’ve swallowed a wasp,” his uncle remarked, glancing sideways at him. “Eat, lad.”
Emeric forced himself to take a few bites, but it was a struggle. His gaze wandered over to Anna, who was laughing at something Hector had said. He felt a pang of something unpleasant and he quickly looked away.
