Page 22 of Taming the Highland Beauty

Gille halted him. “No horses. We should travel on foot.”

Callum frowned, clearly disagreeing. “We will cover more ground faster.”

“The fire might have altered the landscape,” Gille insisted. “We need to see everything. Trust me.”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “Your knowledge of the woods is unmatched. I will meet you below.”

When he stepped from the chamber and shut the door, she shed her dress, the fabric whispering against the floor. Her chemise followed. After rolling down her stockings, she folded the discarded garments neatly and set them over the back of the chair.

Kneeling before a basin, she splashed cool water on her face. The heather-scented soap transformed the mundane task into a soothing ritual. Her hair, freed from its ribbon, tumbled down her back. After a vigorous wash, she wrung it out and shook the excess water free.

The rough linen towel was a luxury after the icy streams of her imprisonment. She savoured the sensation before slipping into a clean chemise. Gwendolyn’s delicate gowns were tempting, but impractical. She chose her old dress instead, a familiar weight settling on her shoulders. She brushed out her hair and tied it back with a ribbon. It would dry in the morning air.

Her return to the forest would not be complete without her moss-covered cloak. She retrieved it from the armoire where it hung and tossed it about her shoulders. Though she was once again dressed in the clothing that had been a part of her curse, she no longer felt like the beast who had once worn them. Everything was different now. She was different now.

A surge of determination replaced her earlier fear. She was no longer a captive of the forest. She was forging a new path, a path to freedom. With Callum by her side, she would find the sealskin and return Lottie to the sea. As an ally amongst the selkies, she might be able to convince them to help Gille break her curse. For only the selkies had the ancient wisdom and magic that might counter Oberon’s curse. Determined to move forward, Gille left her chamber and joined Callum at the bottom of the stairs.

At the sight of her, his features brightened and his eyes warmed, causing her heart to stumble. “You and that cloak no longer seem to blend together as you once did.”

“It feels the same to me,” Gille lied, briefly looking down at her clothing before heading outside.

The morning mist left a chill in the air, but even the mist could not diminish the smoky, acrid scent lingering over the land. “Shall we begin?”

Callum nodded and he hoisted a leather satchel over his shoulder as they walked towards the gates. “I spoke with Alastair and informed him about where we were going. He wanted to send a contingent of men with us, but I refused, telling him this was something you and I had to accomplish on our own. Instead of insisting we be accompanied, he wished us well,” Callum said with a laugh.

“You find that amusing?” Gille asked.

“What I find amusing is how much my older brother has mellowed since he became a father. He used to haunt my every move, my every decision, trying to save me from myself. Yet now, I believe Alastair has learned with his own child that he cannot control everything. He must let others find their own way.”

Gille shrugged. “I think it is nice that he worries about you. I would have given anything for that kind of relationship with my mother and sister.” They passed through the gates and headed north towards the forest.

“Since your return to the castle, I have seen worry on Aria’s face when she looks at you, as well as regret.”

“That may be true,” Gille replied. “I only hope we have the chance to build a relationship in the human realm as sisters—one that we never had in Fairyland.”

A hopeful smile came to Callum’s lips. “We will break this curse, Gille, and you, Aria, and your mother can finally be a family.”

They continued their progress on foot towards the forest in silence until Gille could see a desolate landscape in the distance, a stark contrast to the lush greenery it had once been. The vibrant towering trees that had housed her for a year were now skeletal remains, their charred branches reaching towards the sky like blackened fingers. The forest floor was a carpet of ash, littered with the remnants of fallen trees and scorched vegetation. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke, and the only sounds were the rustling of the wind through the charred trees and the distant calls of birds.

Gille’s heart pounded in her chest, a drumbeat against the eerie silence. She moved purposefully into the skeletal expanse, her eyes searching the ravaged woodlands.

“I am sorry,” Callum said as he followed closely, his hand finding hers.

“I knew the fire would destroy, but I had hoped for some part of the forest to remain untouched,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, her throat tight. As they pressed deeper, in her mind’s eye, Gille searched for the familiar contours of trees that had once grown towards the sky in this very location.

The bark of the trees was charred and cracked, and the wood was blackened and brittle. The leaves were shrivelled and brown, and the needles were gone. The forest floor was a patchwork of ash and charred vegetation, with the occasional patch of green where a plant had somehow managed to survive.

The scene was one of destruction, but it was also one of resilience. The forest was a testament to the power of nature, and even in the face of such devastation, life would find a way to prevail.

A sudden cry pierced the air, a sharp pained keening. Gille’s heart lurched. A small fawn, with legs caught in a tangle of roots, whimpered helplessly. Without a word, Gille knelt, her hands hovering over the trapped animal. A soft green glow enveloped the fawn, and with a gentle sigh, it stood, wobbly but alive. Gille sat back on her heels and breathed a relieved sigh. Even though the woodlands had burned, she still retained the power it gave her.

“I did not know you could do that,” Callum said, his voice filled with awe.

“I had wondered if my magic would remain with the trees burned as they are. I suppose the plants and animals that remain have somehow retained the essence of nature’s bounty.” Though she was happy, her chest felt tight. She had hoped that by returning to the forest the curse would reset, and she would have seven days to live if she left her sanctuary again. But nothing inside felt reborn, renewed. She was unchanged, and the curse remained.

Callum continued to smile, unaware of her change in thoughts. “Then there is still hope of us finding Lottie’s sealskin?”

She forced a smile, reminding herself that all was not lost. They still had time to break her curse, and there were little signs of life that the forest had not been obliterated. “There is always hope.”