Chapter 8 : Don't You Dare Touch That

Maeve - One week later

It had been a week since the storm that marked Aaron’s arrival at the castle. His presence was like the storm itself, electric, undoing the carefully crafted routines of everyone who called the stone fortress their home.

I noticed the change in Ernest first. His usually dry monologues during dinner became lively and animated with Aaron in attendance, the two men talking gaily with their heads bent toward each other, laughing and whispering like a couple of old friends while I played with my fork on the other end of the table, not included in their conversation.

Gemma too was changed. She had spent most of her time marching around the castle, ordering the staff around with an iron fist and managing the daily schedule I could never seem to follow. With Aaron around, however, Gemma seemed to cling to my side, her face always drawn with lines of suspicion as she watched Aaron through the corner of her eye.