I quietly left the room and walked toward the clearing, dewy grass dampening my toes. Busy birds chattered and a few crickets still chirped. Halfway to the clearing I thought I heard music. I stopped and strained my ears, listening. A violin. I headed in that direction, heart quickening.
The sound led me to the woods. As I got closer and could make out the sound of the sad ballad, so beautifully wrought, goose bumps prickled my skin. I slowed, entering the trees, and saw him sitting on the ground against one of the larger trunks. His eyes were closed as he played the heartbreaking melody. When it ended he lowered the instrument and peered over his shoulder. His eyes only met mine for a moment before looking away.
Apparently the song fit his mood.
I moved forward and sat down near him in the dirt and fallen leaves. He didn’t move, just hung his wrists over his knees, the violin and bow dangling from his fingers. I picked apart a leaf into tiny particles. What I wanted most from him was the truth.
“Do you love her?” Please say no.
He looked up at me, appearing startled by the forward question.
“No. I suppose not, exactly. She’s…”
“Beautiful?”
“Well, there’s that, yes. But ‘tis more than that.” The words sounded as if they were being pulled out against his will. He wasn’t comfortable sharing, but this was necessary. We needed to talk.
“Go on,” I urged.
He sighed and swallowed. “When I was a wee lad, I dreamed of running away. I didn’t understand why I had to be different. Not just my height, but also that I was bound to someone while the other lads were choosing lasses of their own free will. No offense.” He looked at me. When I shrugged, he continued. “But when Khalistah would come, she made me forget about it all.”
I pushed aside the nagging jealousy and hurt feelings that he hadn’t been looking forward to meeting me. “So, you’re saying she’s nice to you?”
“In her own way. When she is, ‘tis real, not born of obligation.”
Ouch. First of all, I had a hard time believing anything from her was “real,” but I was more bugged by the obligation comment.
“You think I’m being nice to you out of obligation?”
“I don’t rightly know.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Robyn.” He sighed and set down his instrument, moving his hands over his hair. “Ye don’t have to say that. Ye told me yerself that the Fae are makin’ ye bind wit’ me.”
I scooted onto my knees in front of him, needing him to see my eyes and understand me.
“McKale, I only found out about the Fae’s involvement while I was traveling here. I didn’t know before that, and I grew up thinking about you. I’ve looked forward to meeting you since I was six-years-old—”
A derisive laugh burst out of him, cutting me off and taking me by surprise. I sat back on my heels. “You don’t believe me?”
He shook his head at the ground. “I believe ye want to keep yer family safe from the Fae, and I can respect that. Ye do no’ have to pretend.”
He was so jaded. It made my heart ache.
“McKale, you were the one who brought it up about how your clan doesn’t usually force bindings. How was I supposed to feel?” He opened his mouth to say something, but I kept going. “Look. It sucks that we’re being forced, and maybe I’m being naïve, but I want to make the best of this, don’t you?” When he didn’t answer, I asked, “Do you want me to leave? Go back home?”
“Are ye ready to leave so soon?” The look he gave me was tough, but I could sense the hurt underneath.
“No.” This was frustrating. “But I was ready to leave last night. I wasn’t feeling very welcome.”
“Has the clan not welcomed ye openly?”
“I meant welcomed by you.”
He dropped his eyes again, touching the smooth wood of his violin.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I…”
Before he could finish we heard Brogan calling him. McKale sighed and we both pushed to our feet. I wiped debris from my bottom and followed McKale out to the clearing. Brogan uncrossed his arms and softened when he saw me.
“Top o’ the morning to you, Robyn.”
No, he did not just say that. Cass was going to flip when I told her.
“Good morning, Brogan.”
“Yer father’s requestin’ that we have a discussion first thing this morning. We’ll break our fast soon after.”
Break our fast? Oh, my gosh—breakfast! Another cute thing to make Cass happy. The seriousness on Brogan’s face kept me from smiling as he turned and headed back in the direction of the huts with McKale and me following. Before we got there, my family came walking out. Cassidy hadn’t even bothered to change out of her pajamas for the family meeting.
Brogan led us all to the end of a row of tables under a thin canopy. A palpable tension banded around our group. Brogan and McKale sat together on one side of the table. When I came around the other side to be with my family, I caught the not-so-friendly look on Dad’s face as I sat next to him. Uh-oh.
McKale and his father made quite the pair. Brogan sat up tall and McKale slightly slumped, as if he didn’t want to loom too much higher than the older man. They both propped their forearms on the table and linked their fingers in the exact same way. Brogan looked up at his son.
“The Masons are concerned about yer commitment to this pairing, and rightly so. Last night was the first time I’d ever noticed the interaction between ye and the Shoe Mistress. Have ye compromised yerself, son?”
The sound led me to the woods. As I got closer and could make out the sound of the sad ballad, so beautifully wrought, goose bumps prickled my skin. I slowed, entering the trees, and saw him sitting on the ground against one of the larger trunks. His eyes were closed as he played the heartbreaking melody. When it ended he lowered the instrument and peered over his shoulder. His eyes only met mine for a moment before looking away.
Apparently the song fit his mood.
I moved forward and sat down near him in the dirt and fallen leaves. He didn’t move, just hung his wrists over his knees, the violin and bow dangling from his fingers. I picked apart a leaf into tiny particles. What I wanted most from him was the truth.
“Do you love her?” Please say no.
He looked up at me, appearing startled by the forward question.
“No. I suppose not, exactly. She’s…”
“Beautiful?”
“Well, there’s that, yes. But ‘tis more than that.” The words sounded as if they were being pulled out against his will. He wasn’t comfortable sharing, but this was necessary. We needed to talk.
“Go on,” I urged.
He sighed and swallowed. “When I was a wee lad, I dreamed of running away. I didn’t understand why I had to be different. Not just my height, but also that I was bound to someone while the other lads were choosing lasses of their own free will. No offense.” He looked at me. When I shrugged, he continued. “But when Khalistah would come, she made me forget about it all.”
I pushed aside the nagging jealousy and hurt feelings that he hadn’t been looking forward to meeting me. “So, you’re saying she’s nice to you?”
“In her own way. When she is, ‘tis real, not born of obligation.”
Ouch. First of all, I had a hard time believing anything from her was “real,” but I was more bugged by the obligation comment.
“You think I’m being nice to you out of obligation?”
“I don’t rightly know.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Robyn.” He sighed and set down his instrument, moving his hands over his hair. “Ye don’t have to say that. Ye told me yerself that the Fae are makin’ ye bind wit’ me.”
I scooted onto my knees in front of him, needing him to see my eyes and understand me.
“McKale, I only found out about the Fae’s involvement while I was traveling here. I didn’t know before that, and I grew up thinking about you. I’ve looked forward to meeting you since I was six-years-old—”
A derisive laugh burst out of him, cutting me off and taking me by surprise. I sat back on my heels. “You don’t believe me?”
He shook his head at the ground. “I believe ye want to keep yer family safe from the Fae, and I can respect that. Ye do no’ have to pretend.”
He was so jaded. It made my heart ache.
“McKale, you were the one who brought it up about how your clan doesn’t usually force bindings. How was I supposed to feel?” He opened his mouth to say something, but I kept going. “Look. It sucks that we’re being forced, and maybe I’m being naïve, but I want to make the best of this, don’t you?” When he didn’t answer, I asked, “Do you want me to leave? Go back home?”
“Are ye ready to leave so soon?” The look he gave me was tough, but I could sense the hurt underneath.
“No.” This was frustrating. “But I was ready to leave last night. I wasn’t feeling very welcome.”
“Has the clan not welcomed ye openly?”
“I meant welcomed by you.”
He dropped his eyes again, touching the smooth wood of his violin.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I…”
Before he could finish we heard Brogan calling him. McKale sighed and we both pushed to our feet. I wiped debris from my bottom and followed McKale out to the clearing. Brogan uncrossed his arms and softened when he saw me.
“Top o’ the morning to you, Robyn.”
No, he did not just say that. Cass was going to flip when I told her.
“Good morning, Brogan.”
“Yer father’s requestin’ that we have a discussion first thing this morning. We’ll break our fast soon after.”
Break our fast? Oh, my gosh—breakfast! Another cute thing to make Cass happy. The seriousness on Brogan’s face kept me from smiling as he turned and headed back in the direction of the huts with McKale and me following. Before we got there, my family came walking out. Cassidy hadn’t even bothered to change out of her pajamas for the family meeting.
Brogan led us all to the end of a row of tables under a thin canopy. A palpable tension banded around our group. Brogan and McKale sat together on one side of the table. When I came around the other side to be with my family, I caught the not-so-friendly look on Dad’s face as I sat next to him. Uh-oh.
McKale and his father made quite the pair. Brogan sat up tall and McKale slightly slumped, as if he didn’t want to loom too much higher than the older man. They both propped their forearms on the table and linked their fingers in the exact same way. Brogan looked up at his son.
“The Masons are concerned about yer commitment to this pairing, and rightly so. Last night was the first time I’d ever noticed the interaction between ye and the Shoe Mistress. Have ye compromised yerself, son?”
