They rode hard for the castle, Erik’s mind already three steps ahead, planning. He needed eyes on Claricia at all times. Trusted men. Warriors he’d fought beside, bled with, men whose loyalty had been proven in blood and steel.
The castle gates loomed ahead, and Erik barely waited for them to open before urging his stallion through. He dismounted in the courtyard, already issuing orders before his boots hit stone.
“Sigurd, Torsten.” Two of his most seasoned warriors turned toward him. “I want eyes on Lady Claricia every moment she’s outside our chamber. Everywhere she goes, ye follow. Stay back far enough that she daesnae notice but close enough ye can reach her in seconds if there’s trouble.”
Sigurd’s young face grew serious, the eagerness replaced by grim understanding. “Aye, me jarl. How long?”
“Until I say otherwise.” Erik’s gaze swept the courtyard, cataloguing faces, watching for tells. “And tell nay one else. I want our enemies tae think we’re ignorant. Let them get comfortable and make a mistake.”
“And if the lady asks why we’re followin’ her?” Torsten asked, practical as always.
“Then ye tell her it’s me order and she can take it up with me.” Erik turned toward the keep.
He left them there, taking the stairs two at a time toward his solar. He had reports to review, defenses to strengthen, a council meeting. His shoulder throbbed and Erik shifted his weight, trying not to think about how Claricia’s hands had felt on his bare skin.
Focus.
The solar door closed behind him with a solid thud. Erik moved to the window, staring out at the grey-green water beyond the castle walls. Somewhere out there, Duncan MacRae was plotting. Planning. Gathering men and coin and whatever else it took to steal back what he’d lost. He was sure of it. It was him.
Claricia was never his.
The thought came again, fierce and possessive.
And she never will be.
A knock interrupted his brooding. “Enter.”
Aksel stepped inside, followed by three of his council members. Good. They had work to do.
“We need tae double the guard rotation,” Erik said without preamble, moving to the table where maps of Skye lay spread like battle plans. “And I want every man who serves in me hall questioned. Where they were the night of the attack. Who they’ve been speakin’ with. Any connections tae mainland clans.”
“That’s half the castle, me jarl,” one of the councilors said carefully. “We’d need cause tae suspect?—”
“The cause is six dead attackers who vanished without a trace.” Erik’s finger traced the coastline on the map. “Someone helped them. Someone who kens our routines, our defenses, when we ride out and when we return.”
“But who’d have reason tae—” Another councilor shook his head, confusion evident. “The marriage was the king’s decree. Goin’ against it means treason.”
“Aye.” Aksel’s voice cut through the speculation, flat and grim. “Which means whoever’s behind this is either desperate enough or angry enough nae tae care about consequences.”
Erik’s jaw tightened. Duncan MacRae’s face flashed through his mind—the man who’d lost a bride, an alliance, his pride. The man Claricia had been promised to before the king’s decree tore that future apart. It made a sick kind of sense. But sense wasn’t proof, and accusations without evidence would only drive the conspiracy deeper underground.
“We assume naethin’,” Erik said carefully. “We investigate. Quietly.”
The words hung heavy in the air. Outside, gulls cried their lonely song, and waves crashed against stone with relentless patience.
“What are yer orders, me jarl?” Aksel asked quietly.
Erik was about to answer when the door crashed open.
Every head swiveled. Every hand moved toward a weapon. And there, framed in the doorway like vengeance given form, stood his wife.
Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes blazed like wildfire. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides, and even from across the room, Erik could practically see the fury crackling off her skin.
“Och, dinnae mind me,” she said, her voice sweet as honey laced with nightshade. “I’m certain plottin’ wars and countin’ grain stores isfascinatin’work..”
Thor protect me... she noticed.
Erik’s jaw tightened. “We’re in the middle of?—”
