“Am I invisible or something?” I muttered, smoothing a hand down the cinched waist of my forest-green day dress.
Ruairi’s giant hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “Give them time to warm up to ye. Most of these people have spent their entire lives being distrustful of humans.”
Hadn’t I felt the same way about the Danú not so long ago? Dismissed Danú beggars on the street. Been fearful and mistrusting of their motives. Set out to murder their prince.
The day I discovered the truth about my beloved Padraig, everything changed.
Tears pricked the backs of my eyes when I thought of my coachman. He’d loved me as a father despite my ignorance. And learning he’d been fae all along hadn’t dulled my affection for him.
Trust wasn’t earned in a day.
This was only the first step in a process. I refused to be disheartened.
We continued to the next cottage, one with tiny clothes flapping on the line.
When I went to open the gate, Ruairi remained on the other side, grimacing at the house. “Maybe we should give this one a miss.”
I glanced back at the cottage’s faded front door. Nothing seemed amiss. Sure, the grass could do with trimming, but other than that, the place looked warm and inviting. “Why is that?”
His brow furrowed for a moment, and then his broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Anwen hasn’t been displaced.”
My purpose wasn’t only to help those who were displaced. I also wanted to get to know our neighbors. Perhaps find a friend or an ally among them. And I couldn’t do that if I showed favoritism. “We’ll visit all the houses,” I said, walking straight down the gravel path to knock on the door.
Ruairi sidled up next to me, looking less than impressed.
A baby’s high-pitched wail erupted from inside the cottage. A woman answered, the frizzy strands of her tangerine-colored hair plastered to her flushed cheeks.
“Morning, Anwen,” Ruairi blurted. “We brought mince pies from Eava.” He withdrew a pie and practically shoved the box at the poor woman.
She seemed too busy studying me to notice. Unlike the last woman, I felt no contempt, only curiosity. She tipped her head toward me but directed her question at my companion. “Who’s this?”
Again, the pooka responded for me. “Lady Keelynn Bannon.”
We needed to chat about him using my title when introducing me. I wasn’t a Lady here. “Just Keelynn is fine.” I held out my hand.
Anwen’s dainty hand slid against mine in a tentative shake. “That’s Tadhg’s ring yer wearing.”
“Yes, it is.” About time someone noticed. “We are to be wed in two weeks’ time.”
“Married?” Her eyes scorched a path down and up my body. “To a feckin’ human?”
Heat bloomed up my throat. So much for making friends.
Thankfully, I was saved from having to respond when a young girl appeared behind Anwen, her orange hair reaching nearly to her waist. “Mammy! Brogan’s roarin’ again.”
Anwen waved her away. “Give him the bottle. I’ll be there in a minute.”
The girl was too busy staring up at me to listen. “Who’s she?”
“I said, take care of yer brother, child,” Anwen snapped.
The girl’s face fell before she twisted back toward the hall.
“How many little ones do you have?” I asked, desperate to break the tension in the air.
Anwen braced her hands on her hips. “Four.”
I reached into the basket and took out another box to add to the one Ruairi still held. “Here. Take an extra pie so you have enough for the small ones.” The sooner we ran out, the sooner we’d be able to return to the castle.