After stuffing myself with bread that was either too tough, or too salty, or too just plain gross, I gave up, surrendering to the fact that I was just not meant for bakerdom.
From the looks of the village outside the main window, it seemed that Gregor and Isobel weren’t the only folks interested in checking out the travelling healer. The village looked vacant, and the cold, windy air gave the evening a spooky feel, as if someone were watching me just past the edge of what I could see through the window. I did my best to busy myself so as not to think on it all too much.
It didn’t take long to wipe everything down—Gregor kept things very clean. Dust and dirt only seemed to aggravate Isobel’s cough.
After too much bread was baked and the tables were cleaned, I took to sweeping the floors while conducting a private stage show for all of the empty chairs. I chose to perform a one-woman stage version of Phantom of the Opera. Knowing every word by heart, I think it would be fair for me to speak for all of the invisible ghosts that took in my grand performance and say that I killed it.
Exhausted and happy, I collapsed into one of the many chairs, realizing that I’d not truly been this alone in a very long time. Something inside me reveled in it; enjoyed the freedom of being able to sing at the top of my lungs and prance around like a fool without being worried that a maid or other castle worker would come busting in through the doors. There was such a lack of privacy at the castle; never a moment presented itself where I could be the crazy goofball of a woman I was so accustomed to being in my life before.
I felt very little remorse at breaking Eoghanan’s trust to begin with since I was doing it to help Gregor and Isobel. I knew Eoghanan would understand once I explained it to him. But now that I’d so thoroughly enjoyed my evening alone, any repercussions that might occur if he wasn’t so understanding would be worth it.
Once I took a moment to catch my breath, I stood and went to lean my head out of the front door, to gauge the time of evening based on the moon’s position—it was somewhere between nine and eleven by my rudimentary guess, and I expected Gregor and Isobel to arrive back shortly. Assuming it safe to go ahead and close down for the evening, I stepped back inside and blew out all of the candles in the front, deciding to wait in Isobel’s private sitting room until their return.
With the rest of the inn now dark save the sitting room, which remained lit by a candle in each of the corners, I wrapped myself in a thick wool blanket and sank comfortably into a rocking chair. The flicker of the lights combined with my own rocking had me near the edge of sleep when the sound of wind whooshing through the front door as someone entered sent me soaring to my feet.
In my rush to find out who was there, I tripped on the edge of the blanket, falling headfirst into the edge of the doorway. I screamed and cursed as I stumbled into the dark hallway, feeling my forehead with one hand to make sure I wasn’t bleeding and guiding myself with the other.
Satisfied that my skull was still in one piece, I opened my eyes slowly to find the outlines of two humongous men standing in the dining room.
“Do you need a room?” I didn’t appreciate that the strangers saw fit to walk into a darkened building, but I knew that Gregor needed all the income he could get. I wasn’t about to turn away the first real guests of the night.
“Aye, lass. Apologies for our late arrival, we have been visiting friends.”
I knew enough of hospitality around here to find his statement odd and thought it best to illuminate the room as quickly as possible, in case they turned out to have less than honest intentions for entering. I didn’t have any real weapon, but there were a few kitchen utensils that weighed a good deal, and I was feistier than my size suggested.
“Visiting friends? And they didn’t offer you a bed for the night?” I backed into the sitting room so I could keep an eye on them, reaching just inside the doorway for the first candle I could get my hands on.
“Aye, o’course they did. ’Tis only I dinna wish to sleep in the castle. I doona much care for them.”
I stilled midway into the dining room, gripping the candle hard enough that wax dripped onto my hand. I had to grit my teeth to keep from dropping my only source of light as the hot wax blistered my skin.
Adwen MacChristy. It had to be. The very guest I was supposed to have been at the castle to meet this evening. Surely, he would’ve heard my name before; I was certain that my absence had been discussed at dinner. I couldn’t tell him who I was unless I wished for word to get back to Baodan. I enjoyed my work here. I wasn’t about to do anything to compromise it.