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Chapter Twenty-Three

T wo weeks later.

Sunlight spilled over the bustling streets of Edinburgh. It was the perfect day for a walk—an outing Padraig had insisted upon, eager to immerse himself in this modern world he was only beginning to grasp. Holding Erin’s hand as they strolled along the busy sidewalks was something he had only dreamed of for so many years that he’d long since lost count.

Every time their reflections passed in the polished glass of storefronts, he had to do a double take. There they were, an ordinary couple among the throngs of city-goers, laughing tourists, and chattering locals. Their fingers entwined as if they’d been walking like this forever. To anyone who passed by or lounged on park benches, they were nothing more than another couple enjoying a beautiful day.

But for Padraig, this was nothing short of a miracle. This was the first time he had ever truly planned a day on his own. Not just existing, not simply surviving, but living. Interacting with shopkeepers and making mental notes of trinkets to buy, sights to revisit, landmarks to explore. Every moment felt like a treasure.

The city was alive around him. The scents of fresh bread from nearby bakeries, the tang of roasting coffee, the murmur of conversations, and the constant hum of traffic blended into a thrilling symphony. Yet it was all so overwhelming. Several times, Padraig had to stop, his chest tightening as he drew deep breaths, willing his thundering heart to calm.

Erin’s gentle hand in his always brought him back to himself, her quiet understanding grounding him in ways he could not put into words.

“We should head to the castle,” Erin said, her voice like a soothing balm that steadied him. She cradled a small bag filled with treasures from a quaint stationery shop: a pair of journals, stacks of vibrantly printed papers, pens of every imaginable color, and two elegant fountain pens.

During breakfast, she’d come up with the idea of creative journaling. As they walked, she snapped pictures of his every interaction, her smile growing whenever he marveled at the smallest things—like the sleekness of a touchscreen or the uninhibited affection of a dog that had barreled toward him, tail wagging wildly, oblivious to its owner’s shouts.

On a side street, Erin paused to admire trinkets through a shop’s window. A soft smile on her lips that lingered made his chest tighten.

“I have enjoyed these days with you, getting to know you better,” Padriag said, earning a warm look. “I love you Erin Maguire.” He had to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Please, don’t say anything.”

“Are you okay?” Erin asked, searching his eyes..

“Not really,” Padriag took her by the shoulders. “Erin. I do not have much to offer, but in this moment, I want to ask that you find a place in your heart for me.”

“Oh Padriag, you already own my heart. I love you.” She cupped his chin with her hand. “I love you Padriag Clarre.”

When he went to speak, to remind her that he was penniless, she interrupted. “We will work out the future. For now, I want to continue forward. You’re meeting my mother and her husband, we are going to see about a bigger place to live, perhaps Ashcraig Hall. There is the matter of figuring out how to get you a current identity.”

“We better get to the castle, we’ll be late as it is.” She took his hand, tugging him gently and he gladly came alongside, his heart lighter.

Once they were settled in the car, she turned to him, her cheeks still pink from the briskness of their walk. “Are you ready?”

Padraig nodded, the tightness in his chest easing at the warmth of her gaze. He knew she wasn’t just asking about joining the other men at the castle. She was asking if he was ready to step away from the alter-world, to allow himself to truly live in this one.

They wound through the twisting roads of the village of Culross, its picturesque beauty tugging at something deep within him. Thatched-roof cottages and charming stone houses passed by like remnants of a half-remembered dream. He recalled this place from his long-ago visits to Castle Dunimarle when he often came to spend time with Tristan.

The castle’s imposing silhouette came into view in the distance, a grand relic of the past still clinging stubbornly to the present. His pulse quickened at the sight of it.

“Can you stop the car for a moment?” he asked, his voice rough.

Erin pulled the vehicle to the side of the road and killed the engine, watching him with those keen, perceptive eyes. Padraig climbed out and walked to the front of the car, his gaze sweeping over the sprawling landscape.

It was breathtaking, the way the castle stood proud against the endless sky, surrounded by a sea of lush greenery and jagged cliffs. It hadn’t changed. Not really.

“What’s wrong?” Erin’s voice came softly from behind him. She slipped her arm around his waist, her touch as steadying as it was reassuring. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

He swallowed past the sudden tightness in his throat as he scanned the area before him. “I am really here, I live here now.”

Erin stepped away, her presence a quiet, supportive comfort. She understood him so well, her instinct to give him space confirming she was his perfect partner.

Finally, Padraig returned to the car and closed the door behind him. He glanced at Erin, a smile of determination lifting his lips. “We best get there.”

A celebration sounded on the castle grounds, a lively buzz of laughter and music floated in the balmy air. Tristan’s “aunt,” Edith McRainey—who was, in truth, his descendant—had arrived with her nephew Derrick McRainey, a young man Padriag had met only once before.

Beneath a broad canopy, a long table groaned under the weight of lavish platters brimming with fresh fruits, roasted meats, and decadent pastries. Glass domes shielded the dishes from greedy flies, their gleaming surfaces reflecting the golden light of the afternoon sun.

Musicians strummed fiddles and plucked guitar strings, the cheerful tunes adding to the festive feel.

For the first time he could remember, Padriag saw his friends relaxed, their faces creased with unguarded joy as they swapped stories and playful barbs.

“Padraig!” Tristan waved his friend over. “I was beginning to think you’d decided not to come.”

Padraig grinned, his eyes gleaming with amusement. Erin rose to her toes and kissed his cheek before stepping away. “Go,” she urged him, her smile soft. She drifted toward the shaded cluster of women gathered beneath the branches of an ancient tree, their greetings sounding happy.

Adjusting to seeing his friends in modern clothing was still a struggle for Padriag. They seemed at ease in the new clothes, except for Niall, who looked like he was ready to claw his own skin off.

“Is something wrong?” Padraig asked, unable to hide his smirk when Niall fidgeted and tugged at the waistband of his trousers.

“Too many layers,” Niall grumbled. “Why do people wear clothing beneath these cursed pants?”

Padraig’s laughter rang out, rich and hearty. “You don’t have to. Some men prefer not to.”

“That’s good to hear,” Niall said with a scowl before stalking off toward the castle’s entrance, no doubt to relieve himself of the offending undergarments.

The day passed in a pleasant blur of music and merriment continuing until the early evening. After the musicians took their leave, Edith and Derrick said their goodbyes and followed suit.

Moments later, Gwen, Erin, Sabrina, Tammie and John busied themselves gathering the remnants of the feast to take inside, leaving the five friends alone as the sun began to dip toward the horizon.

“I need to speak with you,” Tristan said, his gaze steady on Padraig.

“Of course.” Padraig’s stomach tightened, sensing something weighty in his friend’s tone.

“Come.” Tristan gestured toward a grassy rise from where they could overlook the surroundings.

The two men walked to the higher ground and stood quiet as the now cooler breeze brushed against their faces. Padraig’s gaze swept over the rolling hills and plush flatter grounds.

“I remember when we rode here as lads,” Padraig said, his voice thick with nostalgia. “Not a care in the world.”

“Aye.” Tristan’s smile was tinged with sadness. “We were so irrationally carefree back then. Thinking life would be like that always.”

Padraig glanced at his friend, noticing the way Tristan’s jaw tightened, his expression as unreadable as the sky. He waited, letting the silence do its work.

“I am grateful my family kept my lands, even expanded the borders. You and the others are my family now. It is only right that I share what I have with you. The lands have been equally divided between the five of us.”

Padraig’s mouth opened, but Tristan’s expression left no room for argument. “It’s legally done, so you cannot refuse it. Oh and my lawyers have taken care of everything, you are a legal resident of Scotland, whose birth was never recorded by your now dead parents.”

A rush of emotions surged making it impossible for Padriag to speak.

“Miraculously, coffers of gold, that I put in a hidden cave below the wine cellars were still exactly where I left them,” Tristan continued, his voice raw with emotion. “It’s been converted to currency and deposited in accounts under each of your names. For as long as you live, you will be comfortably wealthy.”

Padraig’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and his throat tightened. “Tristan, this … You didn’t have to?—”

“It’s because of me.” Tristan’s voice cracked. “Because I insisted we attend that cursed assembly of knights. Because of me, we lost everything. I have to repay my debt.”

Padraig shook his head. “It was not only your fault. I was the one who demanded we go to defend the village. I led us to confront Meliot’s guards that day bringing the curse upon our heads.”

Tristan huffed a reluctant laugh. “Very well, we’re both to blame. Don’t tell the others, aye?” His lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “Gavin, Niall, and Liam agreed to wait until you were here. As a group, you will choose which lands to claim as your own.”

Emotion thickened Padraig’s voice as he clasped his friend’s shoulder. “Thank you, Tristan. For everything.”

Tristan pulled him into a fierce embrace, their friendship unbreakable in the passage of centuries.

A loud clearing of throats interrupted them, and they both turned to find Gavin, Liam, and Niall standing nearby, their gazes drawn to the sprawling land below.

Side by side, the five men stood in silence

No words were needed.

They’d finally come home.