"Sire, I think it's best we leave the O'Sullivan lass behind. We dinnae want tae risk me bride bein' in any danger." Ansel tried to reason with him, though he knew even before he started speaking that it would not work.
"She will go," Edric replied firmly. "She will see first-hand what happens tae traitors."
"But—" Ansel started.
He shut his mouth abruptly as he saw it—the darkness crossing his father's eyes. Though he did not change his stance,he felt the wariness that had been his constant companion since he was a small boy curling inside him. He'd gone too far.
"Everyone leave," Edric said calmly. "Out."
The advisors did not need telling twice. Everyone stood up as one and filed out of the room. The door swung closed behind the last, leaving only Edric, Baldric, and Ansel in the room.
Baldric spoke up. "Uncle, if I may? The lass has already forsworn her father and her sisters. She's proven her loyalty tae us. It may be that Ansel is right, and she should stay here with the other women."
Edric glared at Baldric. Ansel's heart lifted slightly at the sight of his cousin trying to protect him, even though he knew it was pointless.
"Everyone includesye, Baldric. Dinnae make me ask ye a third time," Edric commanded.
Baldric bowed and left the room, but not before shooting Ansel a reassuring look.
When they were alone, Edric turned to face Ansel. "Well?"
"Forgive me," Ansel said immediately. "I didnae mean tae question ye."
"But ye did," Edric replied in a deadly low tone. "In front of me men.Have ye nae mind at all? Do ye wish tae force me intae violence?"
Ansel flinched internally, doing his best to wear a contrite expression. "Father, I?—"
"Yewilltake the lass. Yewillnaefail me again. I already told ye what would happen if ye did. Have ye forgotten?" Edric hissed. "Ye already lost me three of me best men at Clan McIntyre. I overlooked it due tae yer success, but ye are treadin' a thin line. Ye hear me?"
"Aye, Father."
"Ye are replaceable. And Nessa O'Sullivan is replaceable as well," Edric reminded him. "So what will it be, lad?
Ansel stood and sunk into a bow. "I willnae fail ye, Father," he promised. "I live tae serve."
Ye will win, or ye will die.
Ansel reached Nessa's room just as the door opened, and, of all people, Baldric walked out. His cousin smiled at him and patted his shoulder on the way past, but did not say a word. Ansel did not try to stop him, but frowned deeply as he watched him go.
He knocked on the door a few moments later, and Nessa answered, fully dressed and as pale and drawn as ever.
"Men shouldnae be seen comin' and goin' from yer rooms," Ansel told her. "Least of all me own cousin. Me father would be very upset tae hear of it."
Nessa scowled. "Dinnae make it sound so sordid. Baldric came here tae talk tae me, nae more. He informed me of the distasteful task ye expect me tae undertake tomorrow and that ye'd be on yer way here. It seems he's the only man in this castle who's nae a brute. And why do ye talk ofyer fatherbein' upset? What of yerself?"
Ansel did not rise to the obvious goading of her choice of words. He had barely spoken a word to Nessa beyond the necessities in the last month, and he had hoped that when he finally did it would at least be cordial. This, though, was far from it. He folded his arms. "I dinnae care what lovers ye take, before or after we are wed, so long as any bairns are our own. Ye wouldnae be the first lass in a loveless marriage tae seek a man tae warm yer bed."
To his satisfaction, her eyes widened in shock, and a deep blush crossed her cheek. "That's nae—that isnae?—"
He shrugged. "I would advise ye dinnae let yer heart get set on me cousin, though." It was true. Baldric spent most of his time in the kitchens these days; Ansel was fairly certain that his cousin was having some sort of relationship with one of the cooks. "Other than that, I dinnae care much."
Nessa actually stomped her foot out of anger. It was the most expression that Ansel had ever seen from her. "Why do ye taunt me?" she demanded. "I have been nothin' but charmin' in the rare times we have spoken. I have been the perfect lady. Does it give ye joy tae torment me?"
Ansel stopped short at that. He hadn't been intending to do so, and in fact he could say the same to her—but he could see why she'd seen it that way. But when he looked at her, he only saw another victim of his father, and a reminder that he himself was a tool.
A detached part of him wondered why hedidn'twant her. She was pretty enough, though her eyes were the wrong color and her features too soft. Her manners were pristine, though he found himself challenging her cold politeness, seeking heated sparring of wit on wit.
Internally, he scowled at himself. If he would allow himself to admit it, he knew why he did not want Nessa, and why he doubted he would ever want another woman again, no matter how perfect. Because every time he closed his eyes he saw that look, that outstretched hand, that pleading for him to run. And the sight ofherriding out of his life forever.
