The rustling of parchment drew his attention, and he glanced up to see Joseph plucking another letter off the pile and unfolding it.
“What is this lass on about?” Joseph asked.
Even though his brother wasn’t looking at him, Arthur shook his head. “I dinnae ken,” he admitted.
But even as Arthur said the words, an idea had started to form in his mind.
The council thinks I am like me faither. Mayhap this will give me a chance to prove that I am nae.
Joseph and Ayla were watching him closely, confusion plain on their faces.
“Well, what are ye goin’ to do about it?” Ayla prompted.
A confident grin tugged up the corners of Arthur’s mouth. “I think I’m goin’ to claim me bride.”
CHAPTER THREE
“What is this absolute shite?” Marissa groaned as she reached forward, tugging a patch of ruined herbs from the ground.
Her sister, Abigail, scoffed from where she sat beside her.
“Marissa!” she exclaimed, casting a pointed look in Marissa’s direction. “Watch yer language. Ye dinnae want anyone to overhear ye speakin’ like that.”
Marissa rolled her eyes. “And who will be the one to tattle on me? The weeds?”
She waved her arms wide, indicating the empty space around them. It was true that there was no other person around them, no one that could run and titter about the lady of the castle’s foul-mouthed sister.
But Marissa knew better than most that even when there was no one to be seen, it did not necessarily mean that there was no one who could hear. And servants had many ways of making themselves invisible.
Abigail’s glance said as much, and Marissa shrugged her shoulders, giving in to defeat.
“Look at them!” she exclaimed, pointing at the extremely dry sage leaves before her. “They’re ruined. Can ye blame me for bein’ mad about it?”
“I dinnae blame ye for bein’ mad,” Abigail continued, shaking her head slightly at her sister’s complaint. “But I do think it is unbecomin’ of ye to talk like a brute.”
Marissa snorted but didn’t argue back. Instead, she turned her attention back to the task at hand.
She leaned over once more, her back screaming in protest as she ripped up another batch of ruined herbs, muttering under her breath so that Abigail wouldn’t hear and chastise her further.
Marissa and her sister had been out in this garden every day for the last week. They’d been tending to it tirelessly, growing things for the cook to spice their food, or for the healers to make remedies for the ill. She had no idea how the health of the plants had turned so quickly.
Huffing and puffing, she kept tending to the plants. She was thankful for the light spring breeze that caressed her skin. Otherwise, she’d be sweating like a hog.
“Lady Marissa.”
The sound of her name startled her, and Marissa let out a yip of surprise as she sat up. Blinking in the direct beam of the sun, it took a moment for the maid’s silhouette to clear and her young face to come into view.
“Esther,” Marissa said after a few moments, her heart rate finally returning to normal. “What might I help ye with?”
Abigail, who had been working only a few rows down, sat up to watch the exchange.
“A visitor is here to see ye. He says it is rather important,” Esther explained.
Marissa cocked her head, casting a glance at her sister. Abigail shrugged.
I wasnae expectin’ visitors today.
“Who is it that’s come callin’?” she asked, not looking at Esther as she pushed herself up off the ground.
