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1. Fairy Rings and Forbidden Bows

1

FAIRY RINGS AND FORBIDDEN BOWS

T hree Years Ago

The sharp tip of the needle stabbed the pad of Taryn’s finger for the fourth time in the last half hour, eliciting a few drops of blood and a curse that barely managed to stay silent on her lips. She hated embroidery. It seemed so pointless to her. Every day, her mother insisted that she spent hours on her needlework, adding little flowers and vines to handkerchiefs and pillows unnecessarily.

“It is what we do,” her mother, Rowena, had responded, exasperated at Taryn’s repeated line of questioning. “As the Lady of the castle, we are expected to make things bonny, to add wee touches that let the clan ken we are here.”

“But why can I nae put my skills to better use than this? I could be helping with the mending, or we could turn those old linens into clothes for the villagers. Ye ken that one of the houses burned last week. I am sure they could use?—”

“That is out of the question,” her mother said coldly, her blue eyes glazing over in passivity.

Never one to raise her voice for fear of being unseemly, her mother used silence as her weapon of choice. After a lifetime of feeling its icy blows, Taryn had come to resent the controlled quiet of her mother’s rebukes.

“Those linens will be done away with, as is the custom. It would nae do to have villagers running around in our used blankets and curtains. Furthermore,” Rowena continued, stopping Taryn’s argument before she could start. “It is the duty of the servants to see to the mending and the hemming. Dinnae lower yerself to their level.”

Taryn’s mouth snapped shut. She knew well enough when to stop pushing a subject. As soon as her mother had turned her attention back to her own embroidery, Taryn shot the young kitchen maid a regretful look.

Her mother might have considered the life that the servants lead beneath their status as the family of the Laird, but Taryn thought just the opposite. The maids had the freedom to leave the castle walls and walk through the town without an escort. They were allowed to marry as they pleased and do the jobs that interested them. They had simple freedoms, such as choosing a meal they enjoy for dinner, that Taryn had never known.

She struck the stretched fabric in front of her again, doing her best to make the neat, tidy lines her mother pushed for. Without looking up, Taryn could feel her mother’s watchful, critical gaze across her skin.

She knew it would only be a matter of seconds before the next instruction came. Something about the way her fair hair was fixed, or the impossible straightness of her spine. Taryn grit her teeth as she waited for the words to land.

“How can ye ever expect a man to want ye for a wife when ye sit like an old hunchback?”

Sucking in through her nose, Taryn straightened even more, pulling her shoulders back until they ached. Pacified, Rowena let her eyes focus on her own work, giving Taryn a precious few minutes to think to herself.

As she wove the colorful embroidery floss in and out of the fabric, Taryn’s mind wandered. It was a habit her parents were always reprimanding her for, but no matter how much they hemmed and hawed over it, she never managed to stop the daydreams.

Today, her thoughts drifted to the world that lay beyond the window. Her eyes scanned the trees, their leaves the same colors as her embroidery—red, yellow, orange, and gold. The wind blew, knocking more than a handful of the leaves from their limbs, sending them drifting to the green grass below. Peeking through the tree trunks were the thatched roofs of the villager’s houses and shops that made up the majority of the McGregor Clan.

Despite living here her entire life, the village was as unfamiliar to her as the mountains that sat proudly behind it. It had been many years since she had begged her parents to let her go explore the McGregor lands. Their answer was always a resounding “no” and a week in her room. Unwilling to part with the little freedom she had, Taryn made herself content with staring out of the window.

The clock on the mantle ticked, providing the only sound in the room. With every passing minute, Taryn’s legs ached to be stretched, to walk beyond the castle walls. It had been some weeks since she had made a new dress. Perhaps soon her parents would allow her a trip to the village, escorted by more than half a dozen guards of course, to shop for some new fabric. The only thing they cared about more than keeping her out of reach from the villagers was showing her off, the same way an impudent child liked to boast about their new doll.

“Taryn!” Rowena’s sharp voice cut through her thoughts. “Look at what a mess ye have made. What is that supposed to be? Cut it all out and start again. This time, dinnae let yer head wander and steal yer focus.”

Before her mouth could snap open and spout off whatever bitter retort might come to mind, the doors to her mother’s sitting room swung open. With his nose buried in a stack of letters, as it typically was, Taryn could only roll her eyes at her father’s harried appearance.

His thick brown hair was sticking out at all ends, having been pulled from the leather cord at the nape of his neck. A rough hand ran over it again, in a distracted attempt to smooth it, but he only made things worse. Combined with the wrinkled state of his shirt and the letter he clutched all too tightly in his other hand, he looked nearly frantic.

Her mother, however, immediately set aside her project and rushed to her father’s side, her brow creasing with worry, drawing lines across her face that emphasized her aged beauty.

“What is it, Jonah? What has happened?”

Taryn bit the inside of her cheek to keep from commenting on her mother’s hysterics. It was Rowena’s stout belief that a woman’s only purpose in life was to serve her husband, be it fixing his tea or fussing over his business or bearing him children. Her parents had tried their very best to instill the same ideals in their only child, but Taryn had no interest in married life. It was the biggest point of contention in her relationship with her parents, though there were many.

“The Baron,” her father answered, his eyes still on the parchment in front of his face. “He continues to send his men farther and farther north. There is nay end of troubles in the south.”

“What are ye to do?” Rowena asked, her voice the perfected demure tone that she always took when speaking to her husband.

“The Laird has sent guards to block off two of the main roads that lead through our lands and directly to the estate. But I fear that will nae be enough to stop this.”

Trying her best to disappear into the background, Taryn sat very still and kept her eyes on the ground. Her parents hardly ever spoke so freely of clan matters in front of her. Their reasoning she could not understand as she was being bred to one day sit alongside a Laird and rule as a Lady, but they insisted on not sharing any clan news with her.

“He has written to me, thinking that I am more sensible than my brother.”

“This Baron is nay fool, then.”

“I am sensible enough to ken that we can nae fight against the raids, lest we tempt the English to a complete invasion. At least now things are being kept to the south, and we are still able to get our trades here.” Her father paused as he moved to stand in front of the warm hearth, his back to Taryn. “He requests that we make a deal of some kind. He seeks an arrangement to leave the rest of our clan alone.”

Taryn couldn’t manage to stifle the gasp in time. She never dreamed that her father, or her uncle for that matter, would be such cowards as to make peace with a man who was wreaking havoc across the McGregor lands. The noise gave her away. Spinning to face her, her father’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Do ye nae ken it is improper to eavesdrop on conversations that dinnae concern ye? Leave now. This is a private matter.”

She didn’t bother pointing out that she had been in the room, sitting in plain sight, from the moment he had stepped into the room. It was clear to her that his anger stemmed from the embarrassment of having said too much in front of her.

Tossing her tangled embroidery hoop on the settee behind her, Taryn rose as quickly as her manners would allow and walked from the room. She was careful to keep her steps even and slow until she was sure she was out of earshot of her parents. Briefly out from under the crushing weight of their control, Taryn took off in a run.

Ignoring the wide-eyed looks she got from the guards she passed, Taryn kept going until she reached the kitchens. Her parents had strictly forbidden her to venture into the servants’ quarters long ago, quickly making them one of her favorite places to escape to when she found these little pockets of freedom.

“Managed tae sneak away, did ye?” Meredith, the head cook, grinned.

“Aye,” Taryn answered, letting Meredith’s exaggerated accent bring out her own.

“Take a tart with ye,” Meredith offered, gesturing to the plate of iced rectangular pastries.

Taryn’s mouth salivated at the sight. Without argument, she picked one up and shoved nearly half of it in her mouth before reaching for a second. Meredith shook her head with a laugh but gave no rebuke, for which Taryn was grateful.

“See ye later!” Taryn called as she continued outside the kitchens and towards the stables.

Gravel crunched under her feet as she trod the familiar path to the barn. She had discovered long ago that this was a surefire way to get to where she really wanted to be. No one would try to stop her now that she had cleared through the kitchen. Taryn smiled, not even caring that the weather was miserable, drizzling coldly against her skin.

She wore that same smile until she made it to the cover of the stables, where the groomsmen were brushing out the coats of her father’s favorite horses. The two younger boys stopped mid-stroke when they noticed Taryn, their jaws hinged open. Even the older man couldn’t seem to stop staring. Quickly, her smile fell into a scowl that had the three of them jerking back around to their tasks.

This was not an uncommon experience for Taryn. She had spent her entire life hearing how she looked just like her mother. Inheriting the same long blonde hair and striking blue eyes was said to be the greatest blessing in Taryn’s life.

But she felt it a curse more than anything. It meant that everywhere she went, she was stared at. It was hard enough to know that her parents kept a keen eye on her throughout the castle, but to feel eyes on her everywhere she itched was nearly enough to ruin her good mood. Nearly.

Picking up her pace once more, Taryn finished off the first tart just before she left the back end of the stables. Happy to leave behind the gawking onlookers and the smell of hay, Taryn made for the village. She breathed in the fresh air and the rain, soaking in the unexpected walk.

A few minutes later placed her in the center of the village. Mothers chased after their young children, fresh bread sat in the windowsills to cool, forgotten clothes hung on lines getting wet all over again. Apart from the occasional long look, the villagers widely ignored Taryn as she wove her way through the chaos of it all. She loved it.

“What are ye doing here? I was nae expectin’ ye for another week or two!”

Taryn let the door to the quaint shop close behind her, the bell hanging overhead ringing to signal its movement. The unmistakable scent of lavender and vinegar hit her, and every muscle in her back relaxed.

“I was nae expecting it either,” Taryn answered, “but my parents sent me from the room and I left before they had the chance to give me any more orders.”

Swaths of color bathed the little room the two girls stood in. Laura’s family owned the only textiles shop in the whole of the McGregor Clan. Her father’s grandfather had been tasked with creating the clan tartan, and they had been making them ever since. It was Laura’s mother who had suggested that they expand the business beyond just tartans and start selling fabrics outside of the plaids. Though that had doubled their business, it was still a small shop, making just enough to keep food on the table and wood in the fire. But to Taryn, it was heaven.

Taryn had still been a young girl when her mother had first brought her here to shop. It had been time for a more mature wardrobe, as Taryn had started to be expected at clan celebrations. The myriad of colors and textures had enticed Taryn as much then as they did now. Laura was the same vivacious, talkative girl then. Upon first sight, Laura had decided for the both of them that they would be friends, and Taryn hadn’t argued. All these years later, she was still grateful for her friend’s determination.

Her fingers draped across the tops of the bolts, waiting for Laura to finish what she was working on. She didn’t mind, as it gave her a chance to study the light purple and burgundy fabric that had come in since the last time Taryn was in the village.

“There,” Laura said, triumphantly dusting her already clean hands. “That is the last of today’s orders. Now, tell me what adventure we will go on today.”

The mischievous gleam in Laura’s eye made Taryn laugh. Five minutes in her friend’s company, and already the stark loneliness of the castle was starting to fade.

“I dinnae ken how long I can be away,” Taryn answered. “In fact, I am certain that as soon as my parents discover I have left the castle grounds, they will send the guards looking for me and demand my immediate return.”

“Then we cannae waste a single moment! Come,” Laura urged, grabbing Taryn’s hands and tugging her towards the door. “There is something I want to show ye.”

That was all the convincing Taryn needed to let Laura whisk her outside. They skipped past the last few houses in the village and ventured into the forest that lay beyond.

With the limbs overhead half bare, the sun managed to poke through the leaves, warming Taryn’s face as she listened to Laura talk animatedly about her week. The two girls had shared the second tart, though Taryn insisted on only taking a bite or two, letting Laura enjoy the majority of it.

“And then Mrs. Fletcher came in insisting that we give her a full refund since the stain did nae come out. Ye should have seen the way she squawked, waving her arms around like a mad hen.”

“What did yer mother do?” Taryn asked with a laugh.

“She was a genius! She implied that Mrs. Fletcher simply did nae ken how tae clean her own clothes. Och, Taryn, I swear I have never seen anyone with a face so red. I thought she was fit to burst.”

Laura had a way about her that exuded joy unlike anyone Taryn had ever met before. When she spoke, her entire face lit up in animation, no matter what story she was telling. It left Taryn feeling a little more like a normal person and a little less like a pawn in her parent’s schemes.

“Look!” Laura squealed with a jump. “There it is.”

Taryn followed the direction of her friend’s pointed finger to a little patch of grass that had been encircled by small white mushrooms. Cocking her head, Taryn studied it, not entirely sure what Laura was so excited about.

“A bunch of mushrooms?” Taryn drawled slowly in her confusion.

“Nae just some mushrooms,” Laura said with a shake of her head. “This is a fairy ring. It is said that any time ye see a circle of mushrooms like this, a village of wee fairies live underneath it.”

Taryn stepped closer to get a better look, but Laura’s hand on her shoulder stopped her from getting too close.

“Careful! Ye dinnae want to step inside and break the circle,” she warned.

“Why nae?”

“Well, the fairy circle brings good luck to those who find them but to anyone who disturbs them,” Laura answered, her voice dropping to a whisper as if she didn’t want the mythical creatures overhearing them. “It traps them inside the circle and drives them mad.”

Taryn huffed, ruefully thinking that she was already trapped inside her own kind of fairy circle, with madness creeping closer every day.

“Some people think it is a portal to another land,” Laura continued, oblivious to Taryn’s thoughts. “But I think that is just a legend they tell bairns to get them to sleep.”

“What if it is nae?” Taryn asked, unable to keep the wistfulness from her eyes or voice.

Laura turned, taking her eyes off the fairy circle for the first time since they stumbled on it, to study her friend.

“Would ye want to get away from here? What if the place it sends ye is worse? What would that mean for the clan if ye were to disappear?”

The questions tumbled out of her in a rush, but they didn’t faze Taryn.

“I dinnae think there is a worse place than this, Laura,” she answered softly. “And the clan would be fine without me. I am nothing but a prized pig up for sale.”

“What would I do without ye?”

The sadness in her friend’s question made Taryn look away from the mushrooms too.

“Ye would be fine without me too,” Taryn promised. “Ye have so many friends in the village, and ye always have such fun stories every time I visit. Yer life would be nae less interesting.”

“I might ken other people,” Laura spoke gently in a moment of honesty. “But they are nae my friends the way ye are.”

“Well,” Taryn replied after a moment of searching. “It is a good thing that the fairy circle legends are just fables for bairns. I am nae going anywhere anytime soon. Besides, even if I were, I would need to ken how to defend myself a wee bit better. Shall we return to our usual game?”

With a wide smile, Laura nodded and her vivacious personality reemerged.

The pair tramped through the trees a bit further, leaving all talks of fairies and long journeys behind them, as they went off in search of their typical hiding ground. Several months back, Laura had managed to sneak out one of her brother’s old bows that was now too small for him. It was the perfect size for the two young women, though, as they notched arrows and played in a way that made them feel much younger than their actual age.

“Och, my arm is sore,” Taryn complained after letting go of what must have been the dozenth arrow in the last hour.

Neither of them knew much about the art of archery, but that didn’t stop them from trying anyway. Taryn wanted to gain more independence and Laura wanted to try to keep up with her older brother.

“Aye, mine is too. Do ye think we are doing something wrong?”

“I’ll say.”

The rich voice cut through the air and made Taryn forget all about her aching muscles.

“James,” Laura greeted smoothly, as if she weren’t bothered at all by the fuming look he wore. “What are ye doing here?”

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