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He stormed out of the room, slamming the door as he left. I stood there wanting, needy, and feeling stupid for all of it. I dove for the bed and sobbed out my anger on the pillow. I hadn’t done this witchery, as he called it. But he hadn’t given me time to make my case. I hadn’t asked for any of this either. Yet I needed him like the air I breathed. His reactions to it all made me fall just a little bit more. I didn’t think it was love, but definitely more than like.

I flipped on my back and thought about poor Rebecca. The guilt he felt over Cin’s mother was the same guilt I felt about Rebecca. Neither one of us had intentionally set out to hurt someone else.

Then a thought came. Maybe I could help the both of us. If I could find the witch who had spelled Duncan, maybe she would have answers to what was happening to us. She would be able to confirm if our feelings were real or manufactured. And maybe if I found her the very same night Duncan regretted, I could keep her distracted. And whatever fate had in store for Duncan would play out without her interference.

With somewhat of a plan, I got up in bed to figure out how to activate my power. Until I remembered I hadn’t told him about the plot against him.

I raced from my room but didn’t find him in his. If the hour wasn’t so late, I might have gone in search of him. But I had to remind myself women weren’t necessarily safe in these times. It wasn’t Duncan I feared, but the other men who walked the halls.

Back in my bedroom, I waited. I tried moving through time so I would be ready and nothing. At some point, I did fall asleep, having not figured out how to transport myself. I woke when the maid came in the next morning and told me it was time to get ready for the day.

I was dressed in green with hints of gold. My hair was put up in an elaborate updo by the maids. I kept my questions to myself, hoping I’d see Fiona later. She wasn’t there that morning—someone else was with the older maid that tended to me.

Then I was escorted down to the grand hall where Duncan liked to take his meals. He was there, as was his son. They were chatting away when I walked in. I was ushered to the opposite end, which might as well have been in another country for how close we were.

Just as I sat, Duncan got up. “Can I have a word?” I said, before he could exit.

He barely looked my way. “Later.”

“It’s important.”

“Later,” he said and left.

Cin came over. “Do you want to play swords with me?”

“Of course.”

I’d lost my appetite, anyway. Duncan and I had seemed to cross a barrier last night with his willingness to share things so personal, only for things to end with us barely speaking by the time it was over. I didn’t want to blame him, as I couldn’t deny the conclusions he’d formed. I just wished he would see that we were in this mess together.

Cin took my hand as we left the hall. I caught sight of Fiona standing next to Eaon in the hallway. She had a smile on her face, and he wore a matching one. It filled me with warmth seeing the budding romance until I recalled Fiona, a ghost tied to this castle in the future. Her fate might not have been a horrible one, as she wasn’t a remnant but a ghost with whom I could interact as if they were still living.

Duncan’s son urged me toward the back door, which led to the gardens. Then he went to get the swords. I was admiring the view when the stern-faced woman who’d come and gotten Cin for lessons the previous day stepped outside.

“There you are,” she said.

I glanced around. Cin hadn’t returned. I pointed to myself.

“Yes, my lady. Someone overheard that you planned to play swords with young Master Cináed.”

“Yes, I do.”

Her eyes narrowed some, and I remembered my damnable American accent. “Well, I don’t know how you were raised, but proper ladies don’t play swords in their finery.”

I hated how small she tried to make me feel. “Are you Scottish?” I asked because she didn’t sound like it.

“I am. But I worked in the king’s household here in Scotland from a child until now. I was taught how to run a proper English household.”

By king she didn’t mean Duncan. She meant an English king who’d also claimed the Scottish throne.

“Well, this isn’t an English household. My lord is Scottish and I’m his wife. Maybe you need to remember that.” My boldness would likely not run in my favor considering the frown on her face.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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