She would familiarize herself with this place. She would learn its rhythms. He had done what he said he would do. He had brought them within walls strong enough to withstand more than wandering blades in the forest.
“Stay close,” he instructed as they began the tour, though Jamie was already straying half a pace ahead.
The great hall opened into the inner courtyard where stable hands led horses away and servants hurried about their tasks. Jamie turned slowly in a full circle, taking in everything with open fascination.
“Is that a training yard?” Jamie asked, pointing toward the far side of the courtyard where wooden dummies stood battered and scarred.
“Aye,” Frederick replied.
“Do ye fight there every day?”
“Most days.”
Jamie nodded as though approving the answer.
Iona’s gaze flickered briefly to the yard as well. He caught the flicker of thought there. Calculation again.
He led them through the chapel, the storage rooms, the smaller receiving chamber where clan disputes were settled. He explained little unless asked. He preferred the place to speak for itself.
Erin trailed behind, occasionally muttering commentary about drafts and stone placement.
Lennox hovered near the rear, delight written openly across his face as though this entire unfolding pleased him immensely.
They ended in the dining hall.
Long wooden tables stretched beneath iron chandeliers. Sunlight streamed through high windows, catching dust motes in golden beams.
Lady Caitlin already waited there.
The table nearest the hearth had been set with food enough to feed twice their number. Fresh bannocks, honey, butter, roasted fowl, stewed vegetables, and a bowl of berries placed squarely before Jamie’s chair.
Jamie’s eyes widened and a glee-filled sigh of wonder escaped the child’s body.
Caitlin laughed softly and gestured for them to sit.
“I was unsure what ye preferred,” she said to Iona with gentle courtesy. “So I asked for variety.”
Iona hesitated only a fraction before sitting.
Frederick took his usual seat at the head of the table, though today it felt less formal, less commanding.
He watched.
Caitlin asked questions that appeared simple but were not careless.
“Have ye traveled far?”
“Do ye enjoy the Highlands?”
“Have ye always lived near these lands?”
Iona answered carefully. Truthful, but selective.
Jamie, however, answered with bright immediacy.
“The river near the village is smaller than the one here,” Jamie declared between bites. “And Frederick fights well.”
Caitlin’s brows lifted slightly. “Does he?”