“Nay, I came to ye first, cousin,” Ian answered, his tone sharp but laced with unease. “I thought ye’d give me some answers. But what do ye expect me to think when a report like this comes out of nowhere?” His eyes flashed with frustration, but there was a flicker of doubt beneath his stern exterior.
Marcus clenched his fists at his sides, his gaze narrowing. “Then ye’ll take this report straight to the council, Ian,” he commanded. “And Eli here will escort ye. I’ll nae have me name dragged through the mud with accusations like this. Someone is framin’ me, and I’m not standin’ for it.” He gave a sharp nod, making it clear that the matter was to be resolved quickly.
Ian hesitated for a moment, giving Marcus a look that mixed suspicion with reluctant agreement. “Aye, I’ll take it to them,” Ian said quietly, his voice heavy with doubt. He turned to leave, but Marcus’ next words froze him in place.
“I’ll show ye to nae doubt me, ever,” Marcus vowed.
Marcus stormed toward the door, Eli following closely behind. “Where are ye goin’, Marcus?” Eli asked, his voice tight with concern.
“I’m goin’ to get some answers,” Marcus replied, his tone grim and unwavering as he pushed open the door and stepped out into the corridor. “I’ll nae sit idly by and let someone play their games behind me back. The truth will come to light, one way or another.”
CHAPTER TWO
Annabeth stood in the kitchen of their modest cottage, the smell of dried herbs and simmering broth filling the small space. She was quietly stirring a pot when the sudden knock on the door sent a shiver down her spine.
Claire, sitting by the fire, looked up with a puzzled frown, but it was Annabeth who went to answer it. As she opened the door, the sight of Kyle, their landlord, filled the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the fading afternoon sun. His face was set in a grimace, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at Annabeth with barely concealed disdain.
“Please come in. Would ye like some tea or some of the broth we just made?” Annabeth asked, inviting the landlord in with a cheery smile.
“Tea is fine,” he grumbled as he entered the modest cottage.
Annabeth quickly moved to pour him a cup of tea and set it at the table where Kyle took a seat across from Claire.
“Ye ken why I’ve come today?” Kyle asked as he sipped the hot liquid.
“Aye, I do, and first of all I want to thank ye ever so much for yer patience in helping us. Times are hard, and with Claire’s injury, we—” But before Annabeth could finish, he snapped.
“Yer two months behind on yer rent, Annabeth,” he said gruffly, his voice laced with irritation.
“We’ve been trying our best to come up with what we owe ye; can we ask for a little bit more time?” Claire pleaded.
“I’ve given ye both time already,” Kyle said. “Perhaps if ye have a little to pay now that might work in ye favor. Ye understand?”
Annabeth met his gaze evenly, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Aye, I ken, Kyle,” she replied, her voice steady despite the worry creeping into her chest. “But I’ve only enough for half of what ye ask.”
She held out the small bundle of coins she had managed to scrape together, her fingers trembling slightly as she passed it to him. Kyle took the money without hesitation, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.
“This will do for today, lass. But ye’ll need to find the rest if ye want to keep yer roof over yer head,” he said coldly, shoving the coins into his pocket.
He stood up from the table and headed towards the door.
“Two weeks,” Kyle continued, his tone growing colder still. “If ye daenae come up with the rest of it, ye’ll be out.”
Annabeth’s heart sank at the harshness in his words, her stomach tightening. She had been hoping for more time, more coin, but the reality of their situation was as bleak as the weather outside. Her thoughts raced, trying to think of a way to make up the difference.
What if I could get the tailor to give me work? I could sell some dried herb bundles, me clothes. I must do something.
“I’m doing the best I can,” Annabeth said softly, her voice filled with frustration, but also with a quiet dignity. “I’ve been doin’ me best to heal—” She didn’t finish her sentence, knowing it wouldn’t change anything.
Kyle had no patience for excuses, and he had no qualms about taking advantage of their desperate situation.
He looked at her with a mix of pity and scorn before turning to leave. “Aye, well, yer best willnae keep ye warm at night,” he sneered, already turning on his heel.
Annabeth closed the door behind him with a soft sigh, her hand lingering on the handle as she leaned her forehead against the cool wood. Her stomach twisted in knots as the weight of his words pressed down on her chest.
She could feel Claire’s eyes on her from across the room, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at her. The worry in her heart only deepened as she wondered how they would manage. She had seen the struggle in Claire’s eyes these past weeks—how her once-bright spirit had begun to dim under the weight of their poverty.
Claire finally spoke, her voice small and hesitant, “Annabeth, what will we do now?”
