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“Brave, if ya ask me.”

“The garden is worse for wear without her.”

I just nod in agreement. They will talk without me saying anything now that they’re on a roll. They continue, changing subjects and leaving no room for me to talk. I drink my ale and look around, hoping to maybe even see Stafford or literally anyone. Someone needs to save me from this.

“Josephine?” Fiona catches my attention. “Everythin’ alrigh’?” All eyes are on me, and they all know I wasn’t listening.

“Oh, yeah. Fine,” I say too enthusiastically.

The clucking woman leans in. “We all heard yer takin’ a vacation. Threw us for a loop, it did.”

Now I’m perturbed. It’s none of their business. I try to remember there aren’t many secrets between us all but it’s still unnerving. Word travels too fast, even if it has been weeks and weeks of ‘vacation’.

“Don’ look so spooked, dear. It’s time ye take a break,” one wife says.

“Find ye a husband,” another clasps her hands.

“Where’ve ya been anyways? Cam said ya haven’ been ‘round. That ya might be seein’ someone,” Fiona mentions carelessly. Of course he fucking did. I shoot him a glare, and he waves. I make a mental note to force the ceramic woman to approach him. We’ll see how much he can talk then.

“Just been around the city.” Somehow my mug keeps refilling. Maybe they think I’ll have looser lips if I’m drunk.

“Doin’ what?” The clucking hen sounds disgusted.

“Is it a boy?” Another wife says suggestively.

I can’t help it. I fucking blush, and they roar into a frenzy. Questions of who and shouts of suspicion ring out. At some point, more people crowded around. This was a terrible idea, but I also miss the interest of my community, even if they all gossip amongst themselves.

“Is it McFadden’s boy?” Fiona asks hopefully.

“No, she’s too bea’iful for him. Bad fit.” Several nod their heads in agreement. Fiona pouts.

“Certainly not Alastair’s.”

“Not him. Alastair’s boy has been frequentin’ McFadden’s girl.”

They continue like that, rattling off names and then crossing them off of their list. Eventually they’ll figure out it’s none of the boys from our clan, and I’ll get scowls and hounding questions.

“I’ll let you all bicker ‘til you figure it out,” I laugh.

After extracting myself from the horde, I run into Caleb. His cheeks are flushed with drink, and he’s roaring with laughter.

“How’re the women,” he nudges me. The other men snicker. They know I hate that shit, and now I know they left me there on purpose.

“Arguing over who I should marry,” I say with distress.

I swear I’m going to marry you.

I finish my drink, drowning out thoughts of stupid Aedon. Pretty boy Aedon. His stupid gorgeous face and his fucking tattoos. I try to forget how his skin is warm and his eyes—

“Fiona’s set on gettin’ ya with McFadden’s boy,” Caleb divulges, interrupting my runaway thoughts.

I roll my eyes. “Wonderful.”

I’ve seen McFadden’s boy. He has mousy brown hair, too big of a nose, and beady eyes. The other girls seem to like him, in fact, they find him attractive. The way he speaks irritates me, and we have nothing in common.

“I’d be willin’ to bed ya,” says Colin, Alastair’s son. I’ve slept with him a few times at parties. He’s always been a playboy. McFadden’s daughter is hardly the first he’s shown interest in.

The old me wants to. The one that was lost and pushing down the past. I’m still lost, but I’m not so broken. Once I started down the rabbit hole of self-discovery, I emerged from a coma. Sleeping with Aedon woke me all the way up.