“Good evenin’” she said quietly, waiting for any movement.
The room greeted her with silence. Bundles of drying herbs hung from the beams overhead, their scents mixing into a comforting blend of earth and mint and spice. A small fire crackled in a hearth beneath rows of labeled jars, each one filled with the castle’s precious medicinal stores.
Eva slipped inside and closed the door gently behind her.
“Right,” she whispered, scanning the shelves. “Yarrow… yarrow… where are ye hidin’, ye wee miracle?”
Her fingers darted across the labels as she searched, her eyes wide in the dim lantern glow.
At last, she saw it,Yarrow, written in neat, looping script. Relief crashed over her like a wave.
“Thank the heavens,” she breathed, lifting the jar with shaking hands.
She pulled a cloth from her cloak pocket and poured a generous portion into it, her fingers trembling as she tied the makeshift bundle tight.
She replaced the jar carefully, aligning it exactly where it had been.
“There,” she whispered. “Nay one needs to ken it was touched.” Her heart thudded with gratitude and terror all at once.
Footsteps passed in the corridor outside, and Eva froze, holding her breath. A pair of voices drifted through the crack under the door, the sound of servants chatting about the feast preparations. She pressed a hand to her chest, silently willing them to move on.
After a tense moment, the steps faded. Eva let out a long, shaky exhale.
“Almost done, almost home,” she whispered to herself as she tucked the cloth bundle into her cloak pocket. “I’ll get ye well, I promise.”
She turned toward the door, nerves building as she reached for the handle. The weight of the herb bundle pressed reassuringly against her side, but fear still tightened her throat.
“Ye’re nae a thief,” she told herself softly. “But ye’ll be anythin’ ye must for yer family.”
With one last steadying breath, she slipped back into the corridor, the dim light flickering across her determined features. The music swelled again from the distant hall, covering her footsteps as she moved through the shadows toward the exit. Somewhere below, laughter and dancing filled the night, but Eva had no ear for it; her thoughts were on her mother’s labored breath and Jason’s feverish cheeks.
“I’ll save them. Whatever it takes.”
She rounded a corner and collided with a soft but sturdy figure. The impact made her gasp, her hand flying to her cloak to guard the precious bundle hidden within. When she looked up, she found a maid with red curls and bright eyes blinking at her in confusion.
The maid tilted her head. “What are ye doin’ in this wing, lass? The ceilidh’s on the far side of the castle.”
“I… I got lost,” she said softly. “It’s a grand castle, aye? I daenae ken the halls well.”
Her expression warmed with immediate friendliness.
“Well then, I’ll take ye to the great hall! Me name’s Amelie. Come along, ye’ll never find it wanderin’ on yer own.”
Eva followed beside her, her steps light but trembling. The long corridors stretched ahead, lit by torches that flickered against stone walls etched with centuries of history. With each turn Amelie took, Eva’s nerves coiled tighter, holding her breath as she prayed they would not pass any guards or nobles who might question her presence. Inside her cloak, her fingers brushed the herb bundle as if to reassure herself it was still safe.
How am I supposed to get out of this?
If she made a run for it, she’d draw suspicion. If she stayed too long, someone might ask her name, her clan, her purpose. Panic threatened to rise, but she pressed it down with sheer will.
Just smile, Eva. Smile and keep movin’. Ye’ll find a way.
Amelie prattled on cheerfully as they walked, oblivious to Eva’s terror.
“There’s folk from many clans here tonight,” she said. "Och, the hall’s packed full of laughter and music. The Laird’s gran planned the whole thing herself. Rumor is she’s tryin’ to see him wed before the spring thaw!”
Eva mustered a faint laugh. “Sounds like she’s a determined woman.”
“That she is,” Amelie chuckled, opening a heavy wooden door that led into a wide stairwell. “Mind yer step here. The stone’s slick at night.”
