Gordon was waiting beside the gate, reins in hand, his expression too perceptive for Aidan’s liking.
“Ye’re early,” he said, a half-grin ghosting over his face. “Couldnae sleep?”
Aidan mounted his horse in silence, adjusting the reins with unnecessary precision. “We’ve too much tae guard fer sleep.”
“Aye,” Gordon said easily, swinging into his saddle. “Or too much on yer mind.”
The remark cut close. Aidan said nothing, spurring his horse forward as the patrol moved out through the gate. The sound of hooves echoed over the damp stone, and for a long while, the only sound was the steady rhythm of iron against earth.
The valley stretched before them in layers of pale green and silver mist. Pines swayed high on the ridges, and somewhere beyond, the river whispered against the rocks. It was a landscape Aidan had known since boyhood, every path carved into his memory, yet it felt foreign now, like even the land knew something in him had shifted.
Gordon rode close, silent until the first hour passed. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, the tone that meant he wouldn’t be ignored. “She’s changed ye.”
Aidan’s grip tightened around the reins. “Mind yer tongue.”
“Ye ken I’m right.” Gordon’s tone didn’t rise, but there was amusement under it. “I’ve seen ye in battle, seen ye drunk, seen ye curse God Himself when the harvest failed. Never seen ye look at anyone like ye look at her.”
“Enough.”
Gordon only laughed softly, the sound infuriating in its calm. “I’m nay fool, Aidan. The whole castle can see it. And if they can, then her braithers will too.”
Aidan’s jaw worked as he stared out toward the horizon. The peaks in the distance were washed in pale light now, the sun breaking slowly through the mist. “Her braithers are the reason this cannae happen.”
“Then what happened last night? At the dinner table?”
Aidan didn’t answer. His breath came sharp through his nose, hands tightening around the reins until the leather creaked.
Gordon watched him a long moment before speaking again. “Ye’re a stubborn bastard. Ye think hiding it’ll make it go away, but it willnae. Whatever’s burning ye, it’ll burn ye alive afore it fades.”
Aidan turned his head sharply, eyes like steel. “Ye think I dinnae ken that? That I dinnae ken what I’m riskin’?”
“Then tell me,” Gordon said, calm as ever. “What dae ye fear more—losin’ her, or losin’ Tòrr’s friendship?”
The question landed like a blow. Aidan stared ahead, but the world blurred at the edges. He’d fought beside Tòrr MacDonald. Saved his life once, nearly lost his own for it. That bond was made of blood and to betray that was unthinkable.
But then there was Catherine. Her voice, her defiance, the way she looked at him as if she saw past every layer of sin he’d built around himself. He’d spent half his life pretending nothing could reach him. And yet she had, without even trying.
Gordon broke the silence again, voice softer now. “Ye’ve got tae choose which loss ye can live with.”
Aidan let the words sit between them. The wind caught at his plaid, lifting it in a low flutter. He kept his eyes on the road, refusing to let the ache in his chest show.
“She’s under me protection,” he said finally. “That’s all that matters.”
Gordon gave a quiet laugh. “Ye can call it that, but ye and I both ken it’s nae protection that keeps her close. It’s want.”
Aidan’s glare could have cut stone. “Mind yerself.”
Gordon raised a brow but didn’t back down. “I am. I’m remindin’ ye that this might be the end o’ one o’ yer loyalties. I’ve seen itbefore. A man can be laird o’ his lands or laird o’ his heart—but seldom both.”
Aidan said nothing. The wind had changed, carrying the scent of heather and rain. He felt it in his bones, that restless pull, the certainty that his life had turned down a path he could no longer walk away from.
When they stopped near the ridge to scan the northern valley, the air was cold enough to sting. Aidan dismounted, boots sinking into wet earth. Below them, the river glimmered, running swift with the melt from the high peaks. He took it in silently, arms folded across his chest.
Gordon watched him from the saddle. “Ye dinnae fool me, ye ken. Ye’re already lost tae her.”
Aidan’s voice was low. “She deserves better than me.”
“Maybe,” Gordon said simply. “But that’s fer her tae decide, nae ye.”
