“Armstrong, what say you?” King Robert demanded.
“What is there to say, Your Majesty? They encroached upon our land, and we showed them the way off,” Alex answered.
“Save your glib comments for the taverns, Alexander,” King Robert warned. “How did you and the Elliots wind up at the same fight?”
“It’s no secret that neither of us care for them,” Alex said. It was clear to whom he referenced while naming no one or even looking in the Scotts’ direction. “We are not on bad terms with the Elliots. It seemed efficient to work together.”
“‘Not on bad terms,’” King Robert scoffed. “Everyone knows you’re allies. But that doesn’t explain how you ended up fighting together in that battle.”
“My father sent a missive to Laird Elliot, mentioning the inconveniences we’ve faced. Laird Elliot commiserated and offered to help us be less inconvenienced,” Alex said with a shrug. This time he expected the pain that came with the gesture. It didn’t diminish it, but his face didn’t reflect the burst of agony.
“Since you are being dodgy, Alexander, I shall ask Angus.” King Robert focused his sights on Angus, whose expression gave away none of his thoughts. Alex’s respect extended to Angus as a fellow strategist. “Why did the Elliots ride out with the Armstrongs?”
“We’re allies.” Angus offered nothing more. Ire flashed across the Bruce’s face before it settled back to a scowl.
“Recalcitrance will win you no favors,” King Robert warned.
“Your Majesty,” Alex spoke up. “We have the deeds to our land, just as the Elliots have the deeds to theirs. I expect the Scotts are the same. Any number of maps show the boundaries to the various territories. The land is not up for dispute. They refused to move, so we moved them.”
“And you’re satisfied with how you came to win?” King Robert cocked an eyebrow as his gaze locked on Alex’s arm.
“My clan lives to see another day, so I’m satisfied,” Alex answered. What did the Bruce expect him to do? Complain about being maimed. Whine that he could no longer defend his people? Ask the king to avenge him? None of those options were worth considering. He wasn’t there out of self-interest; he was there to represent his clan.
“Angus, are you satisfied with the outcome?” King Robert asked, his tone daring Angus to answer when it was so obvious that Alex’s injury would never heal.
“My clan members along the border are safe. I am satisfied with that.” Angus’s face appeared set in stone, recognizing the king’s test and not appreciating being backed into a corner that would have easily made him appear like an arse. King Robert nodded.
“I will consider what I’ve heard. I will give you my decision when I am ready,” King Robert declared. Alex wanted to ask what there was to decide. As far as it concerned him, the matter had been decided, first when the Scotts encroached on other clans’ land and then when the Armstrongs and Elliots defeated the Scotts. He understood King Robert procrastinated to give himself an air of control. All three clans had been loyal to the Bruce’s crusade. The monarch couldn’t afford to alienate any of them, particularly not the Armstrongs and Elliots, whose lands lay at the Scottish-English border.
Without looking at one another, the delegates from the three clans rose, prepared to leave. There was hesitation over who should leave first. Alex jutted his chin toward the door as he smirked at the Scotts. The gesture was condescending, as though he granted them permission to go before him. His emerald-green eyes mocked them. Rather than argue before the king, the Scotts accepted the offer and filed out. Angus and Alex moved away from the chairs, but Alex froze when the king ordered him to remain behind.
“Alex, sit,” King Robert issued the command, but his tone had softened. Alex didn’t want anyone’s pity. The king studied Alex for a long moment, considering what to say first. “Would you visit my physician?”
“There is naught anyone can do,” Alex answered.
“Naught that a healer can do. Mayhap my mon can do something a village woman can’t.” King Robert waited, but Alex said nothing. “Do you fear another person telling you it will remain as it is?”
“I don’t fear it because I’ve accepted it,” Alex countered. He’d accepted it all. The pain, losing his former life, the discomfort his presence caused others. He’d accepted his anger and his bitterness, even if he wished he could move past them. The only thing he hadn’t accepted was other’s insistence that he remain his father’s heir.
“Not everyone knows aboot your injuries,” King Robert said pointedly.
“It matters not who knows. Naught will change from now on.” Alex set his jaw, hoping the king understood his subtle meaning as Alex had understood the Bruce’s. He rejected trapping any woman into a marriage with him.
“Do you believe that’s fair to her? To decide without her?”
“And how fair is it to shame her into marrying a mon who can’t defend her? To marry a mon who will embarrass her and make her appear a fool? I wouldn’t do that to any woman, particularly not her.”
“But Ca—”
“No, Your Majesty. It’s not an option,” Alex said resolutely. He perceived his resistance took the king aback, but he didn’t need the monarch to play matchmaker for him. The king’s other arrangements had worked out for the couples, but he wasn’t interested in being the one that didn’t.
“You will hurt her if you avoid her.”
“I will hurt her far more if I humiliate her.” Alex wished he could cross his arms.
“Very well. Do as you must,” the Bruce said with resignation. He dismissed Alex, who heard the evening meal’s bells toll. It felt like a death knell.
Four
