"She made it tae the stables."
"Christ. She's persistent, I'll give her that."
"She's desperate." Tòrr's voice was weary. "And desperate people dae foolish things."
Liliane didn't hear Daemon's response. She was already climbing the stairs, her legs shaking with exhaustion and emotion. When she reached her chamber, she slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, pressing her hands to her face.
She'd failed. Again.
And now there would be guards, and tomorrow there would be a wedding, and soon she would be truly trapped with no hope of escape or rescue.
Outside her door, she heard footsteps approach and stop. The low murmur of men's voices, receiving orders. Then silence. She moved to the window and stared out at the moonlit landscape beyond the castle walls. Somewhere out there, Nessa was alone. Waiting for a sister who couldn't reach her, couldn't protect her, couldn't even send word that she was alive.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to the night. "I'm so sorry."
But the darkness had no answers, and the walls of her chamber felt like they were closing in with every breath she took.
In the corridor below, Tòrr stood with Daemon, his jaw tight with frustration.
"Ye're sure about this?" Daemon asked quietly. "Guardin' her chamber like a prisoner?"
"She'll try again if I dinnae." Tòrr ran a hand through his hair. "She's determined tae reach her sister, and she daesnae care if it kills her in the attempt."
"Then perhaps ye should let her send word. One letter couldnae hurt."
"One letter is all she'd need tae arrange an escape." Tòrr shook his head. "I cannae risk it."
“And if her faither moves against the sister while we have the elder?”
The question made Tòrr’s stomach tighten. He hadn’t even known the lass had a sister until today. Why did Liliane cling so fiercely to the girl? What was it about her that made this marriage feel like more than just a political snare to escape?
“I’ll… look intae it,” he said finally, his voice measured. “Find out what can be done. And if necessary, I will let her write a letter and demand tae read it afore sending it.”
Daemon arched a brow. “Will ye truly? Or will ye offer it as a way tae keep her quiet?”
Tòrr didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t sure himself, not yet. But the thought of Liliane’s panic in the stables lingered with him, sharper than he’d like.
"Daes it matter?"
"It might. If ye're makin' promises ye dinnae intend tae keep."
"I intend tae keep any promise I make tae her." Tòrr's voice was firm. "Includin’ the one about marriage. Now, I need ye tae take five men and ride near Munro lands. Quietly. Nay colors, nay announcement."
"Why?"
"Because Munro may try tae reclaim his daughter. And if he daes, I want advance warnin’." Tòrr met his brother's eyes. "Can ye dae that?"
"Aye." Daemon studied him for a long moment. "Ye're in deep with this one, are ye nae?"
"I'm daein' what's necessary fer the clan."
"If ye say so." But Daemon's tone suggested he didn't believe it for a moment.
After his brother left, Tòrr stood alone in the corridor, staring up at the stairs that led to Liliane's chamber. He could still feel the ghost of her pulse racing under his fingers, still see the fire and fear warring in her eyes.
She thought him no better than her father. A brute, a tyrant. Maybe she was right.
But right or wrong, she was his now. And he would do whatever it took to keep her safe, even if she hated him for it.
