"Catherine?"
The girl turned, her expression expectant.
"Why are ye being so kind tae me? Ye dinnae even ken me."
"Dinnae I?" Catherine smiled. "I guess I just ken ye're worth being kind tae."
After she left, Liliane sat alone in the quiet kitchen, the honey-cake forgotten beside her. Her mind kept replaying the momentin their chamber. The heat in Tòrr's eyes, the way his hands had felt on her, the disappointment that had crashed through her when he'd pulled away.
She'd told herself she didn't want him. That she was only enduring this marriage until she could escape.
But that disappointment... that aching sense of something lost, those weren't the feelings of a woman who truly wanted to leave.
And that terrified her more than anything else.
The next morning, Liliane woke alone in Tòrr's bed, their bed, she supposed she should call it now. The space beside her was cold, untouched. He'd spent the night elsewhere. In the library, probably, or maybe in a chair by the fire in one of the solars.
Anywhere but here. With me.
She dressed quickly and braided her hair with fingers that slightly shook. The previous night's conversation with Catherine had shaken something loose inside her, making her question everything she'd been so certain about.
I need tae think. Tae sort through the tangle of wants and fears and obligations without Tòrr's presence clouding me judgment.
At breakfast, she barely touched her food, responding to conversation with half-formed answers that drew concerned looks from Sofia and Alyson.
"Are ye feelin’ well?" Sofia asked quietly. "Ye look pale."
"Just tired." Liliane forced a smile. "I didnae sleep well."
"Still havin’ weddin’ nerves?" Alyson's voice held understanding. "Perfectly natural."
If only it were that simple.
But Liliane just nodded and pushed her porridge around her bowl.
When Tòrr entered the hall, favoring his ankle, conversation stilled.
"Morning, braither," Alyson said, her tone careful.
"Tòrr," Sofia added softly.
"Sisters." He nodded to each of them in turn, his gaze sweeping the room until it landed on Liliane. Their eyes met across the space. Acknowledgment passed between them, and for a moment their eyes remained locked. Then his expression hardened, and he looked away first, taking his seat at the high table without a word to her.
The distance should have relieved her. Instead, it felt like a physical ache.
Sofia shot her sister a warning look before turning to her brother. "There's fresh bread, braither. Liliane, ye should have?—"
"I'm fine." Liliane stood abruptly, her chair scraping against stone. She didn’t miss the look the sisters exchanged before they excused themselves.
"I, um, I might as well go. Excuse me," Lilianne muttered, hurrying after the sisters.
Throughout the day, she kept herself busy, away from Tòrr and glued to Sofia’s side.
"Hand me that basket, would ye?" Sofia asked as they sorted through linens in the storage room. "We'll need twice this many if half the village shows up for the festival."
Liliane passed it over mechanically. "How many usually come?"
"Enough tae drink us dry and dance till dawn." Sofia paused, studying her. "Ye're awfully quiet today."
