Orphaned at the age of 11, Skye was the sole survivor of a devastating fire that destroyed her home in a village in the Scottish Lowlands of 1301. By order of King Cinaed, her reluctant uncle was forced to take her in, though he left her upbringing to his maids. As Skye grew older, her uncle saw her marriageable age as an opportunity to rid himself of her. However, Skye, haunted by the scars of her past and fearful of rejection, sent away every suitor her uncle brought to the castle. When a new order from the King arrived, the entire family, including Skye, delightedly welcomed the news. But Skyeâs heart was gripped by fear and uncertainty beneath her composed exterior. Her greatest dread was about to come true, threatening to upend her fragile sense of security and thrust her into an unknown future. Unbeknownst to Skye, forces beyond her control set the stage for a journey filled with secrets, betrayal, and unexpected alliances. As the shadows of her past collide with the demands of her present, Skye must navigate a web of intrigue to uncover the truth and find her place in a world turned upside down.
view moreThe next morning, as Iona stirred from sleep, her first instinct was to check her finger. She worked carefully, unwrapping the fabric in slow, deliberate motions. The dim pre-dawn light made her squint, but as her wound came into view, her breath caught.Talisha was right.The gash was gone, replaced only by a faint, pink line. Iona pressed the skin cautiously. Nothing. No pain.She exhaled. Good. Now, she could get back to her miserable duties.If she were honest, though, she wasn't eager to return to them. What she feared most was the possibility of being cast aside and dismissed as useless. The fulfillment of her plan depended on her position, no matter how humiliating. She had to endure. Because one day, she would be rewarded.Years of brilliance awaited herâif she could endure a few months of suffering.She let out a slow breath, the corners of her lips lifting slightly. Time to get up.A humming sound drifted from outside, low and restless."It's windy today," she thought, a str
The door to the forge closed behind them, keeping its warmth as the bitter cold rushed in to greet them.The chill hit Iona like a slap, stealing the breath from her lungs. For a fleeting moment, she longed for the familiar heat of the forgeâthe fire, the glow, the comfortâbut she shook off the thought and pulled her cloak tightly around herself.Beside her, Dougal barely seemed affected. If the cold bit at him, he didn't show it. Wrapped in his warm clothes and heavy cloak, he strode forward, gripping the basket firmly in one hand."Let's go," he said, urging her to move.Iona triedâbut for a heartbeat, her limbs refused to obey. The cold had stiffened her joints, locking her in place."What happened to you? Move," Dougal pressed, his tone impatient. When she still didn't budge, he gave her a light pushânot rough, not forceful. Just enough to jolt her forward.It backfired.Her balance wavered, her body tilting dangerously toward the ground. In that split secondâbefore she could brac
The blacksmith's shop was alive with movementâthe heat, the rhythmic pounding of metal, the scent of fire and iron saturating the air.Dougal had been tasked with finishing repairs, mostly farm tools that their owners needed immediately.Today, more than usual had arrivedâan endless parade of damaged axes, broken plows, and rusted hingesâall demanding to be fixed before sundown.At the back of the shop, his father was busy at work, shaping new tools with steady determination.Each time he brought the hammer down, a loud, resonant sound filled the workshop, mixing with the dance of shifting shadows. The warm light from the forge lit up the stone walls, creating a sparkling effect as heat spread through the air. It was hard work, unyielding workâbut after so many years, his father made it look easy.The summers had been brutal, the forgeâs heat turning the shop into a suffocating trap. But now, with winter settling in and the cold pressing against the walls, the furnaceâs fire was no l
Iona gritted her teeth as she trudged toward the garden gate, the basket's weight biting into her fingers. The cauldron was heavier than she expectedâhow was she supposed to carry it to the workshop?She pushed open the gate, stepping onto the road. And then, a realization struck her.She had no idea where she was going.Stopping in place, she scanned the street left, then right, searching for an answer. Her arms burned as she lowered the basket to the ground, rolling her shoulders to ease the ache.She closed her eyes briefly, thinking. Dougal had accompanied her partway that morning, until their paths had split. That much she remembered."So I can get to that point," she murmured, pressing her lips together. "But after that...?"Could she ask someone? Maybe. But who? The townspeople had never been eager to help, and even if she found someone willing, what would she say?"The blacksmith of... of..."She frowned. She didn't even know Dougal's father's name.Would asking for Dougal's f
"Keep pressing your finger, I'll be right back," Talisha instructed."Okay," Iona murmured, her voice tighter than usual.As Talisha walked away, Iona's gaze followed her, watching as she exchanged words with Maysie, though she couldn't quite catch them. Maysie left hurriedly while Talisha shifted to another counter where Fergus cut meat with a cleaver.Iona wrinkled her nose. Was it necessary to leave here, too? He had always annoyed her, and now that she was forced to see him more often than when they still lived in their castle, the sight of him was even more unsettling.Anice was nowhere to be found. Bored of scanning the kitchen, she let her eyes rest on the wooden surface before her.She pressed harder against her injured finger, biting her lip at the sharp, unrelenting sting. Talisha was taking too long, making keeping her thoughts at bay difficult for Iona.And so, they spilled out.Hector's unmasked face rose in front of her, more vivid than before.Her stomach tightened.âAf
As the distance between them narrowed, the twisting knot in Iona's stomach grew tighter."Good morning," Dougal greeted her as soon as they were face-to-face.Only then did Iona notice the dark circles under his eyes. She was almost sure they hadn't been there the day before when they had met."I wouldn't call it a good," she replied curtly, her voice clipped. "Let me guessâyou were waiting for me. Of course, you were."Dougal nodded, his gaze dropping to the dirt road beneath their feet. "Yes, I was," he admitted, his voice quiet but steady.âYou shouldn't have,â she said abruptly. âI can walk alone. I know the way to the castle.â The sharp edge in her tone was impossible to miss. Her father's wordsâbe kind to himâechoed in her head, but patience wasn't her strong suit. Dougal could get under her skin, no matter how hard she tried to ignore him. It was as if the more she avoided him, the more he appeared in her path.She sighed heavily and moved past him, pulling her cape tighter aro
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