Page 24 of The Highlander Steals a Virgin
Her velvet gown whispered as she moved, but the weight of it now felt heavier than when she’d put it on. As if the fine cloth marked her out even more.
She sat swiftly at the long table, alone, her spine stiff, her hands folding neatly in her lap. The warmth in her chest bleeding out like a wound.
The food had already been served to the dining tables, but nothing had been prepared yet for the head table. Still, the room wafted with the divine aromas of hearty mutton, roasted vegetables laced with intoxicating herbs, and fresh oatcakes. It should have made her mouth water.
But her stomach twisted and knotted.
Then, a lad, no older than thirteen, approached with a trencher of steaming stew. He walked with a forced purpose. His thin shoulders were set back in mimicry of a soldier’s march. His jaw was tight, and his gaze never quite met hers.
… should just eat in me chambers.
The thought cracked across her mind as fast as a whip, and she felt strength creep back into her bones.
“Ta, young man, but would you please ask Nina to bring this up to me chambers?” she asked gently.
The boy looked at her, his upper lip twitching fiercely, fighting the urge to curl as if she had just insulted his family line by speaking to him. His eyes were bright with disdain far too old for his years.
“Too fine to eat with the likes of us, then, are ye,Lady Amara Murdoch?”
Amara blinked. “Excuse me?”
He sneered, and some of the men nearby slammed their metal cups onto the table encouraging the lad’s bitterness like a drumline of approval.
“Should beyeservin’us, as a prisoner. Nae the other way ‘round.”
The words hit like a slap and were colder than ice. Amara felt every eye in the room settle on her, waiting for any excuse to let loose their fury. Her throat tightened, but she didn’t flinch. It was a test. They were looking for weakness, expecting to be satiated, and she wasn’t going to indulge.
She stood slowly, placing her napkin back on the table with a deliberate grace and faced the lad with an unwavering calm. “Tell Nina that I’ll take supper upstairs.”
The boy muttered something low and vile under his breath, just loud enough to be heard by the nearest men. They howled with laughter, pounding the tables again with their cups and their fists. The noise rose in sharp contrast to the stillness in Amara’s chest.
But she still refused to satisfy their pettiness with a response. She simply turned and walked away, her head high, her spine like iron. The velvet skirts swept behind her, catching on the stone as she retraced her steps across the hall. Whispers followed, but she didn’t give them a backward glance.
Only when she was surely out of sight did her stride falter.
Her knees nearly buckled halfway up the stairs. Her hand shook as she reached for the wall for balance. By the time she made it to her chamber door, her breathing was ragged and her limbs felt cold.
She managed to slam the door shut behind her and locked it with numb fingers.
And then she broke.
She collapsed onto the bed, sobs tearing out of her like splinters. They clawed their way from a place too deep to realize and too buried to name. Her whole body shook as she pressed her face into the mattress and screamed.
It wasn’t just the unkind boy. No. He had just been the messenger. The venom in his words had the shape of something older, more familiar. More familial.
It’s him.
Her father. It was every day since the feast six years ago. Every time she was told to hold her tongue, sit still, or be quiet. I was every day she hadn’t been chosen. It was being unwanted by the man who was supposed to protect her.
And now, it was Rhys.
He left me alone to dine with those wolves. He dinnae wish to introduce me to his daughter.
Her fists curled into the coverlet. “Stupid, daft, foolish lass,” she screamed into the mattress. Her voice cracked, and the ache in her chest felt like she was drowning.
Amara’s face burned and her shoulders heaved. The gown was a wrinkled mess beneath her weight, and she just wanted to tear it from her skin. Strip the fabric all away.
She didn’t belong here.
