“Freya, please. Freya!”
She broke into a run, racing away into the forest. Argentum followed her, barking, then returned with his tail between his legs when Brendan clicked his fingers.
Brendan was left standing by himself, silence pressing in all around him. Argentum sat on his heels, whining.
“I know, lad,” Brendan whispered. “I know.”
Chapter 15
Venom
Freya half expected the door to be locked.
It was the same side door she’d slipped out of the previous night, although of course it felt like a lifetime ago. It was warm and sunny today, and a few of the nuns were out in the gardens. Sister Rosemary was among them, and had straightened up and delivered a steely glare to Freya as she moved past.
Freya hadn’t had the courage to meet the nun’s eye.
Once inside, she’d expected to be stopped at any moment, either hustled out or dragged off to the Abbess’ office, no doubt to receive a dressing-down. The halls were surprisingly empty, but she hadn’t seen too many people in the gardens. There was an eerie sort of silence in the convent, and Freya couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong.
She trotted along to her room, the silence following her all the way. She barely saw another soul. The people she did pass by were mostly nuns, clearly in a hurry, some carrying linens and boxes and other supplies, barely able to throw a faint nod and smile Freya’s way. She reached her room without anyone speaking to her.
Perhaps she could steal a short nap before going to the Abbess and explaining herself. Maybe there’d even been some food—she hadn’t eaten since the porridge she’d prepared for herself and Brendan.
She wished she hadn’t thought of him, as her chest ached every time he appeared in her mind.
I know he’s not a coward, and yet he won’t go back. I understand why he wouldn’t tell me who he was, but this was never what I expected. Laird Grahame’s son?
If I’d gone ahead and married his father, he’d have been my stepson.
That was an unsettling thought. Leaving her door open, Freya crossed to her bed, intending to change clothes quickly and then…
“I thought it was ye I saw, scurrying along the halls as if ye were a guilty wee mouse.”
Freya straightened, swallowing back an unreasonable burst of anger.
“Hello there, Senga. Ye crept up on me.”
She turned to see her friend standing in the doorway, arms tightly folded, and lips firmly pursed. Senga wasn’t alone. Astrid stood on one side, and Kyla on another.
“I waited for ye for hours, Freya,” Kyla whispered. “I know ye said to go back after a few hours, but I was so sure that ye would be back. I thought something bad had happened, and I didn’t know what to do… I went to Senga and told her everything. I’m sorry, Freya.”
Freya bit back a sigh. “I’m not angry at ye, Kyla. I wish ye hadn’t done it, though. As ye can see, I’m back safe and sound. I was late because Brendan was hurt. Badly hurt. He’d been attacked some days ago, and the wound was festering. I had to see to him.”
“That was brave of ye,” Kyla said, venturing a small smile. Senga gave her a look, and the smile dropped from Kyla’s face like a stone.
“The Abbess doesn’t know about yer absence,” Senga said, “although others do, and I imagine it’ll get back to her before too long.”
“I’m not a prisoner here,” Freya snapped. “The Abbess told me I could leave whenever I chose.”
Senga narrowed her eyes. “Ye have no clue what ye have done, do ye? What ye have brought upon us?”
“Senga,” Astrid said, voice quiet. “Don’t.”
“No, why should I hold back? She needs to know!”
A sense of unease uncoiled in Freya’s gut. She glanced between the three of them, swallowing hard.
“What? What do I need to know?”
