The Blacksmith Queen (The Scarred Earth Saga, #1) - G.A Aiken Page 0,23

time.

She wore a pale pink dress that must have cost her parents more money than they should have ever spent on one garment. She held several books in her hands and her dark hair was artfully braided and curled as it fell down her back.

“Sister,” Beatrix said.

Gemma nodded, not feeling in the mood to do more. She hadn’t slept all night, staying up to keep an eye on things. And when she was short on sleep, she could be quite cranky.

Without another word, Beatrix walked out the back door to find a tree to sit under where she could read. That’s all she did. Sit on the ground in her beautiful dresses and read, taking brief breaks for food and drink. Sometimes a nap. It was what she did before Gemma had left and it seemed that her lifestyle had not changed.

“Stop glaring.”

“I can’t believe you never forced her to do anything,” Gemma complained to her mother. “Keeley and I were up every day, before sunsrise, helping Da in the stables and out in the fields.”

“Your sister’s business is doing so well these days that on occasion we have stable hands and fieldworkers. So we don’t need to make your sisters and brothers do anything. And that’s what Beatrix does . . . nothing.”

“Shouldn’t you have made her do something? Anything?”

Her mother didn’t reply, but Gemma wasn’t exactly sure why. She didn’t see any shame on her mother’s face. Or resentment at Gemma’s chastisement. Her expression was carefully . . . blank.

Knowing not to push, Gemma instead asked, “Think Da likes Keeley more than me?”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you are still asking that question. Why are you still asking that question? Do you think your sister is asking your father that stupid question?”

* * *

“I think Mum likes Gemma better than me.”

“I’m not listening to this insanity again,” her father said, before kissing her forehead.

They’d had a long talk this morning and had decided on a course of action regarding Beatrix. Angus just had to convince his wife. A task that Keeley was grateful her father had insisted on doing. She’d been fearful she’d have to do it.

“Now, I’m going to get my day started,” he said, his big hand on her shoulder. “You help your mum and talk to the Amichais. You seem to have a nice rapport with them.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And stop worrying,” he said with a smile. “This will all work out.” He leaned in and whispered, “Just imagine. Us lot . . . royals!”

They both laughed and Keeley kissed her father’s cheek before sending him on his way. He was humming as he walked off because he was a man who loved his work. He loved his farm. There weren’t a lot of people in the world who were just happy with their lives as they were, but her father wanted nothing more from life than what he had.

Then again . . . neither did Keeley. Of course, if she was going to leave for a few weeks to protect her sister—or, at the very least, bring her home when it turned out she was not going to be anyone’s queen, something both Keeley and her father were starting to believe—she’d need to get things organized at her shop.

“Good morning, Sister,” Gemma said from behind her, making Keeley jump.

“Stop sneaking up on me!” she snapped.

“I wasn’t. I was just greeting you and attempting to be nice. I guess I shouldn’t have bothered.”

“Oh, stop with the pity.”

Gemma moved in front of her. “Pity? I never asked for your pity.”

“Then what do you want? Why are you even here?”

“What I do and why I do it is up to me,” Gemma said, stepping closer. “So perhaps you should mind your own business.”

“Ooooh,” Keeley mocked. “Listen to the fancy talk you’ve learned from your nuns. I’m surprised they let you speak at all!”

“Oy!” Keran barked at them from the far side of the house. “Are you two going to keep this bickering up? Can’t speak for your parents, but I’m tired of hearing it.”

“Where did you come from?” Keeley asked. She hadn’t seen her cousin since dinner.

Keran pointed back toward the house and began to speak but abruptly stopped. She stood there, staring at Keeley and Gemma.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m . . .” She held up a finger. “I’m . . .”

“Are you having some sort of spasm?” Gemma demanded.

Keran stared at them for another moment, then she turned her head, opened her mouth, and unleashed