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She clenched her jaw, reminding herself that she shouldn’t care.
Tavis tugged at his beard. “Aye, the laird’s son suffered much after the death of his mother.” He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Ever since her death,” he sighed, lifting his melancholy gaze to her, “He is hardly the man he once was. Watching one’s mother pass the way he did. I see how it haunts him day after day.”
Blair remembered how she watched her Mamó die. It was in her arms. It had happened so quickly, yet it still haunted her. There were times she would awaken, begging for Mamó to return to her, to open her eyes, not to leave her. Yet, no matter how much she begged, Blair knew she was gone.
She found herself nodding, understanding the pain Aindreas went through. “I know what it’s like to feel alone,” she said softly.
“I suppose that’s how young Aindreas feels, especially after that night, but it doesn’t have to be this way.” Blair watched Tavis dump his body into the seat next to her, leaning back while gazing at her. “He worries about things a lad his age shouldn’t worry about, but I suppose the laird hasn’t helped much with that, keeping to his secrets rather than sitting down with the lad and explaining his ways. They’re both so stubborn. I suppose it’s the one thing Master Aindreas has taken after the old man.”
Tavis sighed and shook his head. Blair’s brows furrowed, trying to make sense of Tavis’s words. It was as if he was speaking a riddle, one she needed to interrupt, yet she didn’t know how or where to start.
Before she could question the elderly healer, a mischievous smile took hold, and Blair wondered what scheme the old man was plotting now. “Daniel hasn’t brought me flowers today. I wonder what is keeping the young lad.”
Blair giggled, covering her mouth while shaking her head at the old man. “I’m sure he has his duties to tend to.”
Tavis scoffed. “More likely his mother is keeping him busy.”
Blair wrinkled her nose as she thought of Lady Alisa, with her scrutinizing gaze and her sweet yet admonishing tone. She was thankful she had successfully stayed far away from the lady, knowing nothing good would happen if they crossed paths.
“Perhaps,” Blair said, not knowing what else to say to Tavis.
“The lad is quite kind and genuine.” Tavis tilted his head from side to side. “Maybe a bit too eager. Many are wondering when he will choose a lass to marry.”
Blair chuckled. “Aren’t ye the castle gossip?”
Tavis scoffed and waved a hand in her direction. “It’s important I know the goings-on around this castle. Otherwise, I would become quite bored.”
Blair held her belly, trying desperately not to break into a fit of giggles. “And what do ye know? What do they say about me?”
Tavis wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Well, there are some who say very ill things about ye.”
Blair’s laughter halted, and she sighed, lowering her gaze into her lap. “I suppose that is expected.”
Tavis took her hand, giving it a gentle pat. “But I don’t believe any ill will toward ye. Yer a hard worker. One of the best apprentices I could ask for.”
Blair narrowed her eyes. “I’m yer only apprentice.”
“Precisely my point,” said Tavis while raising a finger. “Now, why don’t we return to—“
There was a knock at the door, halting whatever it was Tavis was about to say. The old man rose from his seat and clapped his hands together. “Ah, that must be Daniel with my flowers.”
Blair bit back her giggles, watching Tavis stride towards the door, throwing it open. However, it wasn’t Daniel waiting on the other side. It was a soldier she didn’t know the name of. He appeared to be around Daniel and Aindreas’s age with long red hair and brown eyes that looked between Tavis and Blair nervously.
“Excuse me, good sir,” he said shakily while giving a curt bow, “but the laird has asked for Miss Blair.”
Blair jumped from her seat, nearly topping her chair over in the process. Tavis glanced over his shoulder at her, his brows furrowed in curiosity. “Yes, of course,” he murmured while Blair quickly strode towards the soldier. “I wonder what he needs this time.”
The soldier didn’t answer, and while Tavis’s back was turned, Blair quickly grabbed the purple flowers dangling off the side of his desk. The flowers were called Coneflowers, if Blair remembered correctly, and could help with the laird’s cough. She quickly stuffed them into her pockets and bowed her head to Tavis as he slowly turned around.
“I will be back soon.”
“Nae,” said Tavis, making Blair stop mid-step. He touched her shoulder gently, gazing at her affectionately, reminding her of the way doting fathers looked at their daughters, filled with pride she had never known from her own. “Ye needn’t return. Enjoy yer afternoon and the… scenery.” Tavis’s lips twitched, and Blair’s face heated all the way up to her ears.
She bowed her head quickly, hoping Tavis wouldn’t notice her embarrassment. “Thank ye kindly, Tavis.”
Blair could hear the old man chuckling as she left his tower, following the soldier down the spiraling staircase towards the laird’s quarters. The soldier didn’t utter a single word yet occasionally glanced over her shoulder, his gaze sliding up and down the length of her before focusing his attentions forward. Blair ignored the man, her hand moving to her pocket to stroke the petals. She should have enough to make a tea for the laird.
The soldier stopped in front of a large, dark door, bowing his head and gesturing for Blair to open the chamber. She knocked first, shifting nervously from foot to foot while waiting for the laird’s reply.
