Chapter 41

Sitting in front of my vanity, I looked at myself in the mirror. Candlelight reflected a shimmering haze across the glass, smoothing my complexion and blurring the edges of my visage. I unwrapped my hair from its bun atop my head and shook loose the snarling curls. Black as night and as unruly as ever, my hair tumbled down across my shoulders. A couple of blossoms from my wilting flower crown joined the cascade.

"Hello, fairy queen," I giggled at my reflection.

Drunk enough after a long day of laugher and revelry, I studied myself, tracking the changes over the past few years.

Hard work on the land and around the castle had made me broad and strong, but the strength complimented my height — something that had always felt cumbersome and unseemly. The slight line of muscles along my arms, shoulders, and back gave my shape intention and purpose. My cheeks were bright pink, though if that was from my hatred of hats or the flush of wine, I couldn't tell. My eyes, in a shifting blue-green, sparkled with merriment. Sharp cheekbones still seemed too formal and striking, sitting in a high curve that bisected my face, but the surrounding countenance was softer, happier. Lessening the intensity I had possessed as a child.

At twenty-one, I felt a far cry from the gangly and silenced girl of thirteen with her shorn hair and coltish limbs who only looked at herself to find areas of improvement. If asked right then, I would have told anyone that I was the most striking woman I had ever seen. Serene contentedness fell over me, and I winked at my reflection.

Standing so that I might undress, I spared a last look in the mirror to admire the way my bodice and skirt created a fashionable illusion around my body. Untying the skirt, I let it fall into a nest around my ankles. Next, I loosened all the lacing on my bodice, cursing the chore after falling out of the habit after two years in pants and loose shirts. I made quick work of the petticoats and stays, and I kicked off my shoes once I was down to my shift.

I was reaching for the rope to call a maid to draw a hot bath when a knock from the door halted me. The raps against the wood were faint but in his familiar pattern.

"Come in, Alex," I called.

There was a muffled complaint and some scuffling from outside the door, so I opened it myself. On the other side was a drowsy, drunk Alex. Lopsided flower crown drooping across his brow and carrying a tray overflowing with food. He wore a large, lazy smile and looked quite pleased with himself.

"I come bearing refreshment," he said, stepping into the room.

"Thank goodness, I'm famished." Despite the feasting, my stomach growled at the sight of the food. I followed him to where he placed the tray on a low table in front of the fire.

Apples, scones, cured meats, hard cheeses, and honey were arranged on the platter. A pot of coffee perfumed the air. Cups of dried fruits were placed in any open space on the board.

"Oh you magnificent creature," I said, gleefully taking a triangle of cheese and biting into it.

"I didn't know what you were in the mood for, so I grabbed a bit of everything." Alex looked up at me as he settled down onto the rug in a cross-legged position and blushed, smiling. "Do you want your dressing gown?"

"What?" I asked, confused. Looking down, I remembered I was only in my shift, which was made from thin, translucent fabric. Laughing, I walked to my wardrobe and wrapped a silk robe around me. "Am I offending your modesty?" I asked as I knotted the sash.

Alex's smile turned into something wicked and sharp that sent a thrill up my bones. "Perhaps you had a different sort of refreshment in mind, Eilean?"

"How you do compromise me, Lord Leslie," I said, swatting his shoulder as I walked past him.

He offered me a scone, and I accepted it, taking the treat with me to the edge of the bed where I perched on the mattress. I patted the space next to me, inviting him to join. He did so.

We snacked in silence, content and exhausted.

"I am not good company. I am far more tired than I thought I was." Alex said this through a yawn. He laid down and made himself comfortable, curling around my body in a lazy crescent.

I fell back, facing him. The bed was too soft and my eyes were too heavy. The room was spinning, as was my head.

"You're quite the lush, Lady Eilean," he murmured, tracing a finger down my nose.

"Only following your lead," I said, half-aware that he was quite sober.

The last thing I heard before sleep consumed me was the low rumble of his laugher.

~

I woke much earlier than I would have liked. Cruel, blinding sunlight poured in through the open curtains, oblivious to my hangover. A sound of gentle snorting startled me until I noticed Alex sprawled across the bed behind me. I smiled and twisted to face him, stealing a moment to caress his cheek with my fingertips. He must have been conscious of my peeping, and he promptly turned over on his side and out of my reach. I slithered out of the bed, steadying myself as my feet hit the floor and the room pitched dramatically. Then I felt my stomach, sloshing and acidic. My mouth was as dry as sand. Worst was the stickiness on my skin — hot from sleeping in the sun with a fire blazing. I took a whiff of my wrist and recoiled at the stale stink of wine and sweat and bonfire. I groaned, tempering my disgust while I waited for the room to level out.

Desperate for a hot bath, coffee, and a mountain of food, I crossed the room and tugged on the bell for a maid. Moments later, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Morning," I lamented to the woman who entered, looking as bleary-eyed as I felt. "Could you bring... no, I'll just go to the pump room."

I couldn't find the heart to ask her to hoist buckets full of water up here just for my sake. I'd bathe in the large mineral pools deep in the belly of the castle. Heated by thermal springs and far underground. I'd face no daylight there.

"Can you bring a tray for breakfast? Lots of bread and meat. And coffee."

The maid nodded, but as she turned to leave she spied Alex on the bed and hesitated, her lips falling into a gentle O. Her eyes bulged slightly, enough to reveal her surprise.

Gently, but firmly, I ushered her out of the door without comment. Alex asleep in my bed, fully clothed, was not the most scandalous gossip fodder. Still, I knew it would be whispered about throughout the castle before noon. I waited a few minutes to see if the creep of shame would find me at being thus exposed. It never arrived, so I toed on my slippers and scuffled out for a bath.

I was not the only one who sought the curative properties of the hot, bubbling water of the pump rooms. Hanging off the pool walls were people in various stages of suffering; groaning with contentment or nausea as they sweated out the sins of the night prior. No one seemed to mind my presence as I sat submerged, a hot rag draped across my eyes. After a while, a maid had to shake me awake.

Back in my rooms, I ate and dressed, stuffing myself on savory bread laden with egg, bacon, and cheese. Slowly, my body came back together. The room spun slower and my head pounded more like a drum and less like a barrage of cannonballs.

Alex finally woke as I was working my mostly dry hair into a coronet braid.

"My dear Alex, thy name is indolence," I said by way of a good morning.

He said nothing as he perched on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He grunted and stood up, shuffling to the tray that held my leftover breakfast and a fresh, untouched plate for him.

I finished up my braid and tied it off with a bright green ribbon.

A man after his true purpose, Alex attacked the food with vigor, devouring three slices of toast, four eggs, and a full pot of tea before remarking, as if in wonder, "Eilean, have the servants been here?"

"No, I cooked all that over the fire, here." I deadpanned, fluffing my braid.

Alex dropped the fork he held, and it clattered against the porcelain plate before bouncing off the table and onto the floor. "Oh god," he said gravely.

Pushing against a swell of reproach, knowing what he must think, I tried to smother his worries with casual indifference. "They have seen you sleeping before, Alex. Don't think about it too much." I watched him through the mirror of the vanity where I sat.

He turned grey, his face sickly. "Yes, but not in your room. In your bed." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked panicked.

I stood up and faced him, folding my arms across my chest. "And? Now they have something to titter about while they go about their work." I said this as blandly as possible, doing my best to ignore the jangling sensation of nerves. It was an effort to keep my voice steady.

I knew it was one thing to give way to my feelings while under the cover of darkness or drunkenness. To cling to him in the night. In the harsh light of day, my feelings and my sense of security in those heady emotions recoiled. Fighting against that inclination for secrecy, I continued.

"It doesn't matter, Alex. Let them think whatever they want. I dare say everyone already knows we —" Bashfulness overtook me as I watched Alex's face continue to fall.

"I have taken great pains, Eilean, to ensure no one knows of our... involvement." Distaste colored his every word.

I almost doubled over as the sensation of being punched in the gut caught me off guard. Had I been that wrong? That misguided? Confirmation fell around me like a shroud. I was just a dalliance. A friend to mix passions with. Nothing more. Unable to bear it, I bit my lip and looked away, struggling to leash the overwhelming terror that roared in my ears.

"And why would you do that?" My voice was like ice.

Alex stood with force, the seat screeching against the stone floors. "Not like that," he pleaded, walking toward me. "I only meant to protect —" he swore violently. With a strangled yell, he kicked a pouf across the room.

It was worse. So much worse than being a fling. I whipped my head toward him, anger replacing shame that he would do the very thing I asked him not to.

"Protect me from what?" I asked, danger interlaced between each word. I stared him down, hard.

Alex ran his hand through his hair, his entire body bending under the weight of this mistake. "You're a Lady, Eilean. A high-born woman. It's not right if you —"

"Spare yourself the trouble of whatever you're about to say." I was furious. "Leave. Now."

He blinked, stunned. "Leave Stormway?"

That quickly, my anger deflated. It had been a long time since we had misunderstood each other so completely. The last time I had chased him from the castle, from the Island. No wonder he assumed the worst, now.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "No, Alex. My rooms. Just... go. We'll talk about this later."

He nodded, slipping out of the room without another glance or word.

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**Author's Note (which I hate, but...) It has come to my attention that Lady Eilean and my user name have been illegally copied onto other story-sharing websites. I currently only publish on Watt.pad with audiobook chapters posted on YouTube. In the slight chance that this note gets copied out to the other sites, know that I have not created other profiles on other platforms and if you are reading any story of mine outside of Watt,pad you are doing so at your own risk and illegally.