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A ilis McAfee glided through the grand hall of the castle.

She brushed her delicate fingers against the vibrant blossoms that decorated the space, carefully selecting a symphony of hues for her sister Fiona’s upcoming wedding.

The sweet scent of daisy and heather wafted through the air, filling the room with a promise of joyous days to come.

As she weaved her way through the bustling preparations, Ailis couldn’t help but harbor a sense of excitement and anticipation, eager to witness her sister’s happiness bloom like the flowers she held.

“Think ye these marigolds too bold?” Ailis asked, contrasting the fiery blooms with daisies and bluebells on the table. They had two days left before the wedding, so they expected many guests. Now it was the right time to study how the hall would look with the blossoms.

“Bold is what our Fiona deserves,” Moira replied, eyes twinkling. “Ye ken she ne’er shied from making a statement.”

“True,” Ailis conceded, giggling as she added marigolds to the arrangement. “Remember her sneaking into kitchens or leading ye on wild chases?”

“Twas ye who always found us,” Moira countered, tying ribbons around bouquets. “Like when I climbed the tallest oak.”

Ailis smiled at the memory. The sisters shared a knowing glance during the preparations, acknowledging the weight of Fiona’s upcoming union.

“I’m glad she and Alisdair will be staying here at the keep with us. I was worried for a bit that she would decide to move to McClain lands,” Moira continued.

“I would have missed her every day,” Ailis replied. “But ’tis her path to walk.”

“I’m glad that for now, her path will stay here with us,” Moira whispered.

“As am I,” Ailis affirmed, patting her sister’s shoulder. “I canna imagine life without our sister.”

*

Ailis placed the last foxglove in the woven basket, her ears catching hushed tones from behind the grand oak doors. Fiona and Laird Duncan McAfee were discussing the wedding’s seating arrangements.

“Father, we cannot have the McClains beside the McAfees,” Fiona insisted. “Eventually we’ll all get along, I hope, but for now…”

“But we must show unity,” their father replied.

Approaching unnoticed, Ailis suggested, “We alternate the seats of our clan with those of the McClains.”

Duncan nodded. “Fiona, see it done as Ailis advises.”

As preparations unfolded, Ailis noticed Lachlan McClain at the periphery of the celebration. She approached him, filled with curiosity.

“Good day, Lachlan,” she began. “Does the merriment not tempt ye to join in?”

“The care with which ye all prepare for the wedding fascinates me.” He smiled. “It tells me yer dedicated to family and tradition. I like to see that it’s not only Clan McClain who feels that way.”

Ailis replied, “The union of Fiona and Alisdair marks more than a marriage—it is the intertwining of two clans’ destinies. This alliance will benefit both clans.”

Lachlan smiled. “Perhaps ye’ll share with me some of the traditions of yer clan.”

“Aye, of course. I’ve grown up with our traditions, and I realize many are shared by all the Highlands.

But there are a few that are just true of Clan McAfee.

We invite all the villagers to the keep when the harvest is in, and we hold a feast. There is dancing and we all eat our favorite foods. There is laughter late into the night.”

He grinned. “That sounds like fun to me.”

“Aye, tis a great deal of fun. I hope ye and yer brothers will still be around for the feast this year.”

“Well, we know Alisdair will be around because he will be laird of yer clan, but I hope Brodie and I find a way to stay as well. At least for now.”

Or forever.

“We truly are a large family. Everyone is welcome to give their opinions to the laird. Me father never turns anyone away. It doesn’t matter how small the problem is. He is willing to help.”

“That’s a sign of a good leader,” Lachlan enthused.

“It is. I hope yer brother will be just as good of a leader.”

“I dinna think ye have to worry about that, lass.”

“I love the stories that we hear about the clan from the elders. Every story will last forever in me heart. And I love the fires of Beltane,” she gushed. “It means that the long winter is over, and summer is coming. I count down the days leading up to it every year.”

He nodded. “I enjoy Beltane as well. It means I’ll soon be able to swim in the loch behind the keep of the McClain lairds, which was one of my favorite things to do as a boy, and I still look back on it fondly.”

Lachlan listened as she described the annual Lughnasadh games and the tradition of handfasting beneath the ancient Rowan tree to unite two souls. “It sounds as if most of our customs are the same as yers, as we observe all the Highland festivals.”

“But perhaps our most cherished pastime is the ceilidh,” Ailis continued, her eyes lighting up with pride as she spoke of the beloved Highland custom. “It is a gathering where we come together to share stories, dance to lively tunes, and strengthen the bonds between our kin and neighbors.”

“We do the same,” Lachlan replied, nodding as he listened intently, clearly captivated more by Ailis’s voice than anything. Each clan had its traditions. How the McAfees celebrated fascinated him.

“As much as I cherish the traditions of me own clan, I am drawn to the warmth and spirit of yers,” Lachlan confessed. “And I love to hear ye talk about anything.”

Ailis smiled warmly, her eyes reflecting the flickering light of the hearth. “Our traditions are a testament to the enduring spirit of our people, a thread that weaves through generations and binds us together in times of joy and sorrow.”

Ailis traced the McAfee crest on one of the tapestries that hung from the wall in the great hall. Lachlan listened, captivated by her explanation of how each knot represented family strength and unity.

“Each thread binds not only the cloth but also our clans,” Ailis continued.

Lachlan compared the artistry to the McClain clan’s symbols etched on sword hilts and mantles. “We still have much to learn of the McAfees.”

Ailis smiled. “I’m glad ye want to learn about us.”

“I’m always happy to learn, especially about our allied clans.”

*

Later, Fiona approached with an urgent request for Ailis.

Fiona pointed out a puckered section along the bodice of her wedding gown. “It looks odd, and I’m afraid it will cast a shadow upon the entire day.” She shook her head. “I know I’m being picky, but it is the only time I will be a bride.”

“I’ll ensure every line falls perfectly into place. Ye need not worry,” Ailis reassured her sister.

As Ailis worked, Fiona relaxed, her trust in Ailis’s talents becoming her solace. “Thank ye,” she said, gratitude warming the cool Highland air.

“Think nothing of it,” Ailis replied, focused on the task. “The wedding is all about yer happiness.”

Ailis finished adjusting Fiona’s wedding gown and glanced around the grand hall filled with activity.

Servants placed beeswax candles on tables, their flames prepared to flicker into the night.

Colorful tapestries depicting McAfee valor and McClain strength decorated the walls, representing the upcoming union.

The collaboration between the two clans filled Ailis with pride and hope for the future. She thought they’d done an admirable job of highlighting both clans.

“Lachlan,” she acknowledged as he approached. Suppressing her emotions, she responded gratefully to his compliment on her decorating skills.

When Lachlan offered to help arrange the feast, Ailis hesitated, torn between propriety and desire. Eventually, she accepted his offer, acknowledging it would reflect their lands’ abundance and people’s spirit.

“Let us make merry in the labor, for the joy of the task is in the sharing of it.” Lachlan grinned. He didn’t add that he simply enjoyed being around Ailis, whether they worked together or just talked to one another.

In the McAfee keep’s kitchens, rosemary and thyme scents intertwined. Ailis examined parchment scrolls filled with generational recipes while Lachlan stood beside her, emanating confidence.

“Here’s the McAfee roast,” Ailis began, tracing the recipe. “The secret lies in the marinade. It’s a recipe handed down to me from me great-grandmother.”

Lachlan studied it closely. “A fine choice. We McClains prefer different foods for our festivities, but this sounds delicious as well.” He didn’t mention the foods they ate at the McClain celebrations, for how could he explain that women had come back in time to marry into the McClain clan? It would make no sense to most people.

“Let’s combine both for this feast,” Ailis suggested, envisioning tables full of dishes symbolizing unity. And her clan would try new recipes at the same time the McClain clan did.

“That won’t be possible.” Caitlin McClain approached them from behind. “Our recipes are secrets that dinnae leave McClain land, but if ye come to us, ye may taste them. The cooks in our clan are very concerned about the recipes being copied by others.”

Ailis nodded, deferring to Lachlan’s mother.

“I understand that each clan has its secrets.” She wanted to ask more questions, but it didn’t seem right.

“Clan McClain seems different from others. We’ve all heard the rumors about the seven sons in every generation.

Is that why the seventh son is always the one to inherit? ”

Caitlin smiled. “I’m afraid the secrets of Clan McClain must remain exactly that. Secrets. But ye are welcome to visit again any time.”

Ailis looked at the older woman for a moment before nodding. “I see. I willna ask any more questions.”

“Tis probably for the best,” Caitlin replied kindly. “I would have to keep telling you that I canna tell you anything.”

Ailis giggled. “I suppose I’ve been put me in me place then.”

“Never. I like ye, Ailis, but I love me family. All secrets are not equal. Some of the McClain secrets could mean bad portents coming to our clan. I could never be the cause of that.”

“I understand. I… will you tell me a bit about Lachlan’s childhood?”

Caitlin smiled. “He’s me second son, and he’s always been very close to his father. Even when he was a small boy, he wanted a wooden sword so he could be a great warrior like his father and uncles.”

“And ye have seven sons like the rumors say?”

“Aye, I do. And yes, the youngest will become laird when it is time. Many of the rumors ye’ve heard about us are true, but not all. I promise, the McClains are good people.”

Ailis studied the older woman’s face, deeming her trustworthy. “Thank ye for answering me question, Lady McClain.”

“Please, call me Caitlin.”

A short while later, Caitlin left to check how things were coming in the great hall, Lachlan and Ailis continued working together.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly between shared duties and personal experiences. Ailis recalled her first failed attempt at baking honey bannocks as Lachlan shared a similar story about porridge.

Chuckling together, they bonded over their shared expectations and vulnerabilities. “I can cook now, but not back then. It has become a joke in me family how terrible I was,” Ailis added. “Now I even make me own tinctures for use when I’m healing others.”

As they worked on the menu, each dish chosen represented the land that shaped them. It didn’t matter to Ailis that they didn’t use McClain recipes as long as they used recipes that represented the Highlands.

Ailis studied the parchment-strewn table, resting her hands momentarily. The air was filled with warmth and the subtle scent of crushed thyme. Despite her fatigue, being with Lachlan kept her spirits high.

She spotted Fiona and Alisdair across the great hall, whispering intimately. Fiona’s eyes met Ailis’s, exchanging a smile of sisterly affection, yet leaving Ailis yearning for a deeper connection like theirs.

Turning to Lachlan, she wondered if perhaps he would be the man who she would connect with. She hoped so.

“Ye seem close to both of yer sisters,” he observed.

“True,” Ailis agreed, her mind wandering, “but I wonder if there will come a day when I’ll find a man who understands me like they understand each other.”

Their conversation halted as Moira burst into the hall announcing the arrival of more McClain visitors. Ailis and Lachlan exchanged silent agreement—this talk could wait.

Lachlan offered his arm. “Come now, we must greet me clansmen ourselves.”

“Lead the way,” Ailis replied. She took his arm, noting the muscles that bulged. He would be a good man for her, and she felt that her father would approve of him.

As the celebration around the newcomers quieted, duty pulled Ailis from Lachlan. She turned to him, eyes filled with shared understanding and a hint of regret for their separation.

“Ailis,” Lachlan began, his tone reflecting mutual respect, “might we reconvene tomorrow to continue our preparations?”

“Aye, Lachlan,” she replied, a tangle of emotions weaving through her as she watched him disappear into the crowd.

Determined, Ailis focused on the tasks that awaited—the backdrop of her sister’s nuptials. Each fold of cloth and carefully placed bloom echoed the depth of Fiona’s love and the strength of the McAfee clan’s unity.

*

Ailis escaped the celebration preparations and found solace in the solitude of the hills outside the castle.

The Highland air whispered against her cheeks as she contemplated her clan’s expectations, with her heart yearning for freedom.

Lachlan’s disarming smile and mischievous eyes image lingered in her mind.

She wondered if the possibility of affection existed between their duties to their clans.

The Highlands reflected her inner turmoil as a solitary falcon soared above, symbolizing the heights one could reach should destiny permit.

As the sun painted the sky gold and crimson, Ailis returned to the keep, contemplating the vast and untamed future before her.

Fiona’s wedding would be a testament to unity and peace.

And mayhap there would be time to dance with Lachlan.

She wanted to feel his arms around her once again.

They’d shared many dances, but she’d not been certain of her feelings for him back then.

She was now, and the idea of his arms around her gave her something to look forward to.

In the quiet recesses of her heart, Ailis dared to dream of love—fierce and unyielding like the Highlands themselves. With each step, she hoped that tomorrow might bring her and Lachlan together once more.