Arianna made her way down the narrow stone corridor that led to the weaving chamber, keeping her pace calm and steady. The quiet hum of spinning wheels reached her ears long before she stepped through the archway. Inside, the castle’s wool weavers worked at their looms, threads of soft grey and cream stretching tightly across wooden frames. The room smelled faintly of wool and wax, and the steady clacking of the looms filled the air like a gentle rhythm.
One of the older women looked up as Arianna entered and dipped her head respectfully. “Good morning to ye, me Lady.”
“Good morning,” Arianna replied with a small smile as she approached the nearest loom.
The women paused their work, curious but welcoming.
“What brings ye to the weaving room today?” another asked, pushing a loose strand of hair from her brow.
Arianna clasped her hands lightly in front of her. “I was wondering if ye might have a wee bit of spare cloth?”
The women exchanged quick glances.
“For mending, perhaps?” the first asked.
“Aye,” Arianna said smoothly. “I’ve a small need for it.”
One of the younger girls hurried to a basket near the wall and pulled out a folded length of undyed wool. She carried it over carefully and held it out. “Should this serve well enough, me Lady?”
Arianna accepted it gratefully. “Thank ye kindly.”
The older woman smiled warmly. “If ye need more, ye need only ask.”
“I appreciate that,” Arianna said before turning to leave.
Once outside the weaving room, she continued down the corridor, her heart beating slightly faster now. When she reached a quiet bend in the passage, she slipped her hand into the hidden pocket within her skirts.
The folded parchment rested there. She drew it out briefly and scanned the list she had written the night before.
Map. Cloth. Food. Water. A sturdy sack. Perhaps a small dirk if she could manage it.
Her gaze lingered on the final line. Horse.
Arianna folded the parchment again and returned it to its hiding place. A small knot of tension tightened in her stomach. The kitchens would be next.
If she meant to travel to Castle McDonald alone, she would need supplies enough for the journey. She smoothed the cloth under her arm and continued walking. Soon, the warm scent of roasting meat and fresh bread drifted through the corridor ahead. The castle kitchens were already alive with noise.
Servants bustled from table to hearth carrying bowls, baskets, and wooden spoons. The large hearth fire crackled fiercely while two boys hauled in bundles of firewood. Pots simmered, knives chopped, and the air rang with the lively chatter of cooks and helpers.
Arianna stepped carefully around a maid carrying a tray of bread. The cook stood near the main table, a large man with flour dusting his sleeves as he kneaded dough with powerful hands. He looked up and grinned when he spotted her.
“Me Lady! What brings ye to this chaos?” he bowed deeply.
Arianna smiled politely. “I wondered if ye might have a spare sack.”
The cook paused mid-knead. “A sack?”
The word hung suspiciously in the air. Arianna felt the flicker of unease but kept her expression calm.
“Aye,” she said lightly. “I need it for …me pet rabbit.”
The cook blinked. “For the rabbit?”
“Aye,” she continued smoothly.
“Ahh, the wee creature,” he chuckled. He wiped his hands on a cloth and turned toward a wooden crate near the wall. Reaching inside, he pulled out a rough burlap sack that still held several potatoes.
“Here we are.” He tipped the sack upside down, dumping the potatoes onto the table with a dull thud before handing it to her. “This should do nicely.”
