Heat rushed to Eva’s cheeks, and she looked down, startled by the admission. Compliments were not things she had grown up receiving, especially from women like Margaret.
“I thank ye for speakin’ plain now. I’d rather truth than honeyed lies,” Eva said.
Margaret let out a short, surprised laugh, clearly pleased. “Aye,” she said, nodding once. “That, there, is exactly what I meant. Connor will test ye, whether he means to or nae. And ye’ve just proven ye willnae fold.”
Eva felt strangely lighter, though her legs trembled. She glanced at her mother, who watched the exchange with a mix of worry and pride. Eva straightened, grounding herself in the moment.
Margaret stepped back and inclined her head, more respectful this time. “I’ll take me leave now,” she said briskly. “The castle’s already hummin’ with talk, and I’ve stirred enough for one day. Daenae disappoint me, Eva Whyte.”
Eva met her gaze and nodded, steady despite her pounding heart. She did not know whether she had passed or merely survived something important.
Margaret turned and continued down the garden path, her figure growing smaller among the blooms. Eva watched her go, knowing that nothing about her future would be simple, but feeling, for the first time, that she might be strong enough to face it.
She turned the woman’s words over in her mind, skepticism settling in where surprise had first taken root. Eva did not truly believe Margaret thought her beautiful, not in the way she meant it, but she accepted the apology all the same. Some battles, she decided, were not worth continuing.
Annabeth gave a tired little chuckle. “That woman is an odd one, is she nae?” she murmured, shaking her head.
Eva smiled faintly and nodded, her gaze following a butterfly drifting past. “Aye, that she is,” Eva replied, squeezing her mother’s hand.
Annabeth sighed and leaned more heavily against her. “I fear I may’ve walked too far,” she admitted, her breath thinning.
Concern flared through Eva at once, and she rose carefully, steadying her mother.
Eva turned to Amelie, who hovered nearby with practiced attentiveness. “Could ye help me get me maither back to her bed?” Eva asked gently.
Amelie smiled. “Of course, ma’am,” she said, slipping easily to Annabeth’s other side.
Together they guided Annabeth through the garden paths and back into the castle, the cool stone halls a relief after the sun. Once settled in the lavish bedchamber, Eva drew the blankets up and set about making tea over the small hearth.
“I shall fetch a stew and return,” Amelie said.
“Thank you, Amelie,” Eva said.
She stoked the hearth. The room glowed softly. Light reflected from polished wood. Eva moved with quiet purpose.
“Here, have a nice cup of tea,” Eva said to her mother.
“Thank ye, lass,” she said, taking the cup.
Amelie returned shortly after with a bowl of hearty stew and thick slices of bread balanced expertly in her arms.
She set the tray down with a cheerful hum and excused herself, “I have to return to me duties and promisin’ to check in at a later hour.”
“Yes, thank ye, Amelie,” Eva said.
The door closed softly behind her, leaving mother and daughter alone in the hush of the room. Eva helps her mother eat in bed.
Annabeth looked around slowly, her eyes lingering on the carved bedposts and fine tapestries. “I’ve never slept in such a place,” she said wonderingly. “These sheets are softer than anythin’ I’ve known.”
Eva smiled and perched on the edge of the bed.
“It feels strange, does it nae?” Eva said quietly. “Like we’ve stepped into someone else’s life.”
Annabeth reached out and brushed Eva’s hand, her expression gentle. “Whatever comes of this,” she said softly, “ye’ve done right by us.”
Eva swallowed against the tightness in her throat and nodded. She did not know if Margaret’s words would hold true, or if this castle would ever truly feel like home. But as her mother rested more easily and the fire crackled low with good food in her belly, Eva allowed herself a small breath of peace. For now, that was enough.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
