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"Naething, Maither." She shook her head. "Just thinking."
"What about?" said Lady MacKenzie, and Fenella and Lorna exchanged meaningful glances.
Lorna deeply appreciated her connection with Fenella. They often spoke with their eyes, without needing to part their lips.
"Alright, time to leave," Fenella said then, ushering Mary Lou and herself out of Lorna's chamber. She shut the door behind them.
When they were gone, Ma gathered up the silk hem of her dress and joined Lorna on the bed who was seated on the edge; hands clasped together atop her knee. Ma scooped her shoulder in a lighthearted side hug. "Are ye scared, my dear?"
"Terrified," Lorna confessed.
Ma tossed her head back in laughter. "So was I, on the eve o' me wedding."
Lorna let out a disbelieving scoff. "It's nae the same, Ma."
"O' course it is."
"Pa adores ye. Yer are both perfect together."
Ma beamed, and Lorna rolled her eyes. There were very few things Ma enjoyed more than a compliment that rang with the truth.
"Yes," she agreed, "But yer perfect too, and yer husband will adore ye.
"Come now, Maither. It's nae the same."
"However could ye mean?"
"Ye and Pa! Ye knew each other yer whole lives and ye certainly were in love before yer betrothal."
"Aye, Lorna," her mother conceded, "but it dinnae mean I was nae scared out o' me brains – because I was." She stroked Lorna's cheek. "My dear, ye've prepared all yer life for this. There is nae one in the country and beyond more empowered tae bring peace and unity tae our clans than ye."
Lorna nodded but her mother’s words did not make her less terrified. If anything, they made her more terrified; knowing that she was alone in her destiny, that she was so unique, that she alone could marry the MacLean heir and bring lasting peace to both of their clans.
Anguish stabbed at her chest like a blade. She did not know if she could do this. Even if she had the strength to, she feared she wasn't ready. She voiced out her inhibitions before she could stop herself. Ever since childhood, Lorna had always been one to speak her mind, despite being a girl. "What if I'm nae ready, Ma?" she said.
''Ye are, Lorna, more than ye even know. Trust in yer ma." Her mother squeezed her hand encouragingly but it did not stop her from dwelling on everything that could go awry.
What if Arran MacLean saw her and despised the sight of her? What if she saw him and despised the sight of him? What if their intellects didn't match? What if their spirits didn't cross paths on the same plane? What then? Wouldshe expected to live a life of dissatisfaction and misery in order to bring peace to her clan? I n the name of achieving her life's purpose?
Was it worth it -to give up her life, her home, and her freedom?
Lorna wanted the best for herself and her clanbutcouldn't help but be concerned.
Ma then let go of her hand. She was smiling that motherly smile of hers, one that dazzled like a hundred candles and comforted Lorna all at once. "Lorna, yer more ready than ye could possibly imagine. Yer a MacKenzie, my dear. Fear not, for there is nothing we cannot do when we set our hearts tae it."
"I hear ye, Ma," Lorna replied. She allowed her shoulders to relax, and released the tension from her back and jaw. She felt strengthened by her mother's encouragement. Still, a small part of her hummed with hesitation and uncertainty.
Lorna rose to her feet and continued packing where Mary Lou had left off.
"So long as yer a good wife," Ma continued; smoothing down the beaded pearls sewn into the plate of fabric at her cleavage. Mother liked pretty and shiny things.
Lorna liked pretty things too – like her bow and arrows. She and her mother simply had differing definitions of what pretty meant, and sometimes she wished Ma simply accepted it.
"And he be a good husband," countered Lorna.
"Lorna," said her mother with warning.
"What?" Lorna feigned innocence.
