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Chapter 2
“Willow, wake up!” Maira shook Willow by the shoulders. “Your father is already here, and he says he has some exciting news.”
“Aye,” agreed Morag. “He arrived over an hour ago and has been waitin’ for ye to get out of bed before he tells us. Hurry up, I canna wait any longer.”
Willow opened one sleepy eye and sat up and yawned and stretched. “Father is here?” she asked, trying to get her bearings, hoping she had heard them wrong.
“That’s right, I’m here, and I’m no longer willing to wait in the great hall.” Willow’s father, Rook, burst into the room. Maira’s father, Rowen was right behind him. The two men, along with Morag and Fia’s father, Reed, were triplets and also bastards of the late King Edward III. The only way to tell the men apart was by the color of their hair. Rook had hair like a midnight sky. Rowen was blond like the shining sun. And Reed had bright red hair like fire.
“Father! Uncle Rowen!” Willow pulled the blanket up to her chin to hide her night-rail. “What are you doing here? I am not even out of bed yet, and certainly not dressed.”
“I can see that, and it disgusts me that you have become so lazy, Willow.” Rook marched over to the shutter and pulled it open, letting in the sunlight as well as a cold breeze. “Your mother is not going to like it when I tell her that our only daughter has been acting as if she thinks she’s a queen.”
“Father, close the shutter,” complained Willow, sinking down into the covers. “It’s cold in here.”
“What’s the news?” asked Morag anxiously. “Tell us, Uncle Rook, please. I canna wait any longer.”
“It’s about your sister,” Rowen spoke for him.
“What do ye mean? What about Fia?” Morag clutched the bedpost, and her eyes opened wide. “She isna ill, is she?”
“Nay,” said Rook with a shake of his head. “She –”
“She’s had her baby,” Rowen interrupted before Rook could tell them.
“I was getting to that,” growled Rook, throwing his brother a daggered look.
“She has a bairn!” Morag excitedly jumped up and down. Once again, as far as Willow was concerned, Morag was acting childish.
“Was it a boy or a girl?” asked Maira.
“A girl,” answered Rowen. “They named her Oletha after Alastair’s mother. Reed is boasting that he has not only the first grandchild but also the most girls in the family.”
“Aye. We’ll never hear the end of it,” agreed Rook. “Thank goodness he doesn’t have the most boys, or there’d be no living with him at all.”
“I am so excited,” said Morag. “I canna wait to see Fia and the baby. Can we leave right away?”
“That’s why we’re here,” said Rowen. “We’re going to escort you three to the Highlands, leaving today. Fia requested that you three be there to help her celebrate.”
“We’re leaving today?” Willow sat up straighter in bed. “But can’t it wait until after the Autumn Harvest Festival?”
“Nay, Willow. That will last a sennight,” said Maira. “Fia is waiting for us now, and we need to be there for her.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Willow answered with a sigh. She wanted to be with her cousin but also longed to stay here for the festival.
“I willna wait another day,” said Morag. “Come on, Willow, get out of bed so we can leave.”
“Give me some time.” Willow didn’t want to get out from under the covers with the men in the room.
Rowen looked out the window and whistled lowly.
“What is it?” asked Maira.
“It looks like a caravan of knights coming across the drawbridge,” Rowen told them. “Beaufort must have invited a lot of nobles to his festival.”
“Knights?” Willow’s ears perked up.
“I want to see,” said Morag running to the window.
