Megan was pleasantly surprised to find all her relatives – dressed in traditional style. Each wore a woolen kilt in clan colors, still an integral part of the Scottish national costume. The men's skirts with large pleats at the back; a tartan plaid thrown over the left shoulder, secured with a brooch. A white shirt, handkerchief tie, black waistcoat, and black jacket – all perfectly fit the members of the McKenzie family. High woolen socks up to the knees, and over the belt hung a sporran – a leather pouch on a chain that fastened around the waist. It featured three small, rabbit tail-like attachments.

Carefully observing all this magnificence, the girl thought that the male members of the McKenzie family were very distinguished by their tall stature and good physiques. Aloud, she remarked, “I’ve seen many Scots in national dress in England, including Grandfather, but never paid attention to the details. It's truly very beautiful and extraordinarily elegant, especially when men know how to handle all the accompanying accessories, which, I think, many people these days neglect. All three of you look gorgeous – like Scottish national fashion models.”

“You are absolutely correct. A properly assembled costume is our history, which started here in these mountains, and we are proud of our traditions. In the big towns, few people nowadays wear kilts; they mostly prefer trousers. But the northern Scots will never abandon their customs.”

Having delivered his speech on national attire, Alaric took his place at the head of the table. His grandsons, Duncan and Warren, sat beside him. Megan noted how much Alaric and her grandfather resembled each other. A robust, gray-haired man, shorter than his grandsons, with a serious expression on his face. The eyes, nose, authoritative chin, were all so reminiscent of Malcolm… It felt as if they were of the same age. This resemblance poignantly touched her soul. The whole family was here, but he was not…

She couldn't remember who was actually older, Alaric or Malcolm. Presumably, it was Grandfather since he had inherited Castle Mal, the ancestral home of the clan.

“Mr. Douglas, you may begin,” Warren said.

“All the members of the McKenzie family are gathered here today for the reading of the will of the late Malcolm McKenzie,” Mr. Douglas began. “Allow me to state his will: ‘I hereby bequeath Castle Mal and the Mal Scotch Production whisky distillery, as well as all the funds remaining in my bank accounts, to my only granddaughter, Megan McKenzie.’ Miss McKenzie, there is one more amendment you should be aware of. In the event of your death, if there are no legitimate children-heirs, your mother cannot inherit what your grandfather left you. The entire estate will pass to Alaric and his grandsons, as was the deceased's wish,” concluded Mr. Douglas.

Following these words, Megan was frantically thinking. It must be one of them trying to kill me, now it all makes sense. If I'm gone, they are the lawful heirs. This means another attempt on my life is imminent. Oh, what a nightmare! What should I do? There's no point in offering the family to buy the estate now. Why would they spend the money if they can get it all for free?

After several seconds of complete silence, Alaric asked her a question, “Megan, how are you going to manage the distillery and the castle? Are you going to stay in Scotland, or would you like to manage things from London?”

“This is precisely why I came here – to see the distillery first-hand and get acquainted with its management specifics. Based on this, I will make my decision. Perhaps you have some thoughts on this matter?”

“We can offer our assistance if you find it challenging. I believe Warren wouldn't mind looking after the castle, and along with Gregor, managing the production. Duncan is involved with our other factory with its woolen products. Warren is more available time-wise. As for the terms of your cooperation, I believe you are capable of negotiating them if you're interested in such an arrangement.”

“Thank you, Alaric. I will certainly consider your offer,” trying to speak very calmly and without unnecessary emotions, Megan continued, “but… there’s something I’d like to discuss. Last night, near the castle, I was attacked by a man with a knife. He tried to kill me. I don't want to accuse anyone of what happened, but just in case, I'm informing you that due to the inheritance order that has been revealed to me, I will definitely, right after the meeting, call my lawyer in London and ask him to prepare a document. If something happens to me, a thorough investigation will be conducted based on the information about a possible direct interest in inheritance matters.”

The meeting room fell into complete silence, surprised looks turned into offended ones. Duncan was the first to recover and find a voice to speak.

“Megan, what are you saying! You just arrived here, you’re meeting us for the first time, you’ve got no idea what kind of people we are, and you start threatening us? I can’t speak for my grandfather and brother, but personally, I’m offended to the core,” his cheerfulness and friendliness were abruptly replaced by a kind of aggression. His cousin's statement seriously angered him.

“I had no intention of offending or insulting anyone here. But since an attempt was made on my life yesterday, I think it’s quite reasonable that I bring this up – since I obviously have good reason to fear.”

“I'm terribly sorry that this happened to you, but it's hard to imagine. Could it have been some drunkard attacking you with the intention of robbery? It might just be a coincidence,” said Alaric in bewilderment.

“This man was following me and attacked me with a knife, but…” Megan hesitated for a moment, reluctant to mention the raven, knowing it would sound ridiculous, “but I swiftly dodged him. He slipped on some rocks near the riverbank and fell. That saved me, and I managed to escape.”

Everyone in the assembly hall exchanged puzzled looks. Who could it be? Why and for what reason? No one had answers to these questions, and it seemed unlikely that the girl had made up this story.

The awkward silence was broken by Gregor, “Miss McKenzie, I’ve prepared all the accounting reports for you; they’re in this folder. You can review them whenever you deem necessary. I am ready to answer any questions you may have.”

“Thank you, Gregor. I’ll start on them today,” she replied.

“Since Megan does not yet have any ideas regarding the future of Castle Mal and the distillery, we should schedule another meeting in the near future. What do you say, Megan? How much time do you need? A week, two?” asked Alaric.

“I think we should discuss everything in about ten days. I need to study the documents carefully and make an informed decision,” she answered.

“Despite the unfortunate situation we find ourselves in today, on behalf of our family, I still invite you to join us for dinner this Friday at Castle Raven. I believe we all need to get to know each other better. We are still one family, after all. Maybe you will stop fearing and suspecting us,” said Alaric more warmly, but still a bit stiffly.

“We’ll be glad to have you as our guest,” added Duncan, now composed, with a restrained, polite smile.

“Thank you, I will come. Is it far from here?”

“A ten-minute walk up the hill behind Castle Mal. Glenn and I will escort you,” Warren replied.

“I would greatly appreciate that. Alaric, Duncan, it was nice meeting you. I'll go study the materials now,” saying this, the girl quickly left.

What a foolish situation. They offered help, seemed friendly, and here I am with accusations, threats… Such absurdity. But on the other hand, they could be pretending. It might be a cunningly planned game. Time will tell. I shouldn't torment myself with guilt over what I said there. At least, now everyone knows about the attempt on my life. She thought while walking through the castle's corridor.