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I open the door to leave, ignoring her question as I want no more payment. Movement outside catches my attention, and my eyes narrow in disgust. The men are still a ways off, too far for me to count them, but I spy the flag they bear before they dip into the valley, their party no longer visible. To these men, I am mistress and not lady. Southerns have little respect for Garra or the titles bestowed on me and my ancestors. Or so I’ve been told.

“’Twas the Merian king’s flag, was it not?” Anna asks.

“Aye.”

“We should wait inside.” Anna pulls my arm, but I refuse to go back with her.

I will hide from no man, most especially those sent by a king I do not recognize.

“My lady, come inside with me.” She tugs again.

Living at the edge of the village, Anna is rightly leery of strangers. She knows the guardhouse defending our village only offers so much protection. Wayward Highlanders and thieves can easily make their way to Murwood End. But these men are neither.

They are worse.

“Nay.” I disentangle myself from her. “I will not.”

My father’s voice rings in my ears.

Stubborn girl.

I am that, and more.

But then I notice Anna’s expression. She wishes to go inside but feels beholden to stay with me. And so my feeble stand comes to an end. I allow her to push me into the straw-thatched cottage, and despite the warm day, Anna proceeds to close every wooden shutter. After she lights a candle, the modest furnishings once again come into focus. We move toward one of the shutters and wait.

“You have always been so brave, Lady Aedre,” she says softly.

My father would call it something very different.

“Garra have been so for centuries,” I whisper back even though we are very much alone.

“What do you suppose the Garra of Meria are like? Or Edingham?”

I’d not know firsthand as I’ve never left Murwood End. “My grandmother says we are all very much the same, no matter the kingdom. Our goal, to learn and share all we can of love and its healing properties. She also says Garra do not practice openly in the capital.”

“How fares Lady Edrys?”

“She is well.”

When I left, my amma had been perched just outside the forge’s window watching the sea with one eye, my father with the other. Surely Father knew she sat there to distract herself, but he played along. In addition to being a skilled blacksmith and an overprotective father, he is one of the kindest men in all of Murwood End, more tolerant of his mother-in-law and daughter than he pretends.

“I left her sitting outside the forge awaiting the ships’ return.”

Two of them were due to arrive any day now. It is a favored pastime of the villagers, predicting the return of the Voyagers.

“Do you hear that?”

I did. The slow, steady beat of horses’ hooves pounding the dry earth.

We peek out from the shutters as the sound intensifies.

The tips of their gold and red banners become visible before the men themselves. They slow as they spot us. Anna’s breathing becomes erratic, and I lay a hand on her shoulder.

“Bastards, aye. But not likely here to harm us.” I keep the venom from my voice. “We are just a curiosity to them.”

I squint, attempting to calm myself as much as my companion.

They’re too far away for me to hear their words. It doesn’t help that all four are helmed, but I watch as the leader, clearly marked as such by his bearing, grasps his helmet and pulls it off.

If I could’ve controlled the swift intake of breath, I would have. Because I’ve clearly shown my hand.

“A rightly handsome man,” Anna whispers, echoing my thoughts.

Nay, more than handsome. Regal, almost. One who knows his worth. His hair nearly shoulder length, as I’d expect of a Merian, though slightly wavy and as dark as mine, his skin touched by many a summer’s day. When he turns our way, I silently thank Anna for having pulled me inside. If I’d been out there, he would have witnessed my unwitting reaction to him. I watch as he signals for the others to move once again, confirming my suspicion that he is indeed their leader.

“Aye,” I finally agree as they pass. Anna tosses the door open, and we step outside.

“Why are the king’s men here?” she wonders aloud, again echoing my thoughts.

“I do not know, but it does not bode well for Murwood End.”

Or for me.