"Just tired."
"Mmm. Tired." Sofia's tone suggested she didn't believe that for a moment. "Naethin’ tae dae with me braither broodin’ at the high table like a thundercloud?"
"I dinnae ken what ye mean."
"Of course ye dinnae."
Later, Catherine found her in the gardens, chattering as she clipped herbs.
"—and then Duncan MacGregor's youngest tried tae impress Mary by singin', but he sounded like a cat bein' strangled, I swear it—" Catherine looked up, grinning. "Are ye even listenin'?"
"What? Aye. The cat."
Catherine's smile faded. "Ye haven't heard a word I've said."
"I'm sorry. I'm just?—"
"Thinkin' about Tòrr?" Catherine set down her shears. "He's been impossible all day too, ye ken. Snapped at Michael twice, threatened tae knock sense into him."
Liliane's chest tightened. "That's daesnae have anythin’ tae dae with me."
"Daes it nae?" Catherine tilted her head. "Ye're married tae him. Seems like it should be. What dae ye want, Liliane?"
"I am nae sure."
But she knew exactly what it was she wanted, just that she could not admit it to any of Tòrr’s sisters.
To save Nessa.
That was clear and unchanged. Her sister's safety mattered more than anything. But Tòrr had offered to help her learn healing. He'd promised she could train with Moira, build real skills, make a difference in people's lives.
Could she trust that offer? Could she believe he wouldn't use it as leverage later, another chain to bind her?
And more confusing still, did she even want to leave anymore?
Later, when she took the herbs she had gathered to the healer’s chambers, the thought of what she needed to do continued to churn in her mind.
"Ye're distracted today," Moira, with whom she had become friendly with over the past days, observed, grinding something with her mortar. "Mind elsewhere?"
"Just thinkin’ about the festival." The lie came easily now.
"Hmm." The healer’s knowing look suggested she wasn't fooled. "First public appearance as Lady MacDonald. I imagine that's weighin’ on ye."
"Among other things."
"The laird seems distracted too," She continued, her tone carefully casual. "Saw him this mornin’, limpin’ somethin’ fierce. That paste ye made helped, I'd wager, but he's pushin’ too hard on that ankle."
"He's stubborn."
"Aye, that he is. But so are ye, I'm thinkin’." She glanced at her. "Takes a stubborn woman tae survive what ye've survived and come out still fightin’."
"I'm nae fightin’ anymore," Liliane said quietly. "I'm just... tryin’ tae figure out what I'm supposed tae dae now."
"Supposed tae dae? Or want tae dae?"
There was that question again, the one Catherine had asked. The one Liliane still couldn't answer.
"I dinnae ken the difference anymore."
