Bootsteps approached.
Hunter.
His brother rounded the corner with that restless, guilty energy still clinging to him from the day before. He took one look at Maxwell’s posture and slowed.
“She will nae see ye?” Hunter said quietly.
Maxwell didn’t answer.
Hunter exhaled hard. “I tried to speak with Isla. She nearly bit me head off.”
Maxwell’s gaze flicked to him. “Good.”
Hunter blinked. “Good.”
Maxwell’s voice stayed flat. “If Isla is angry, it means Ariella is nae alone.”
Hunter’s face tightened. “She shouldn’t be alone in the first place.”
Maxwell’s jaw flexed again. “Aye.”
Hunter glanced at the door, then back at Maxwell. “What will ye do?”
Maxwell stared at the wood as if he could see through it. “What I should have been doing all along.”
Hunter waited.
Maxwell turned away from the door and started down the corridor. “Come.”
Hunter fell into step beside him. “Where?”
“To the yard,” Maxwell replied. “To the stores. To the walls. To the ledgers. To the men.”
Hunter frowned. “Ye’re avoiding her.”
Maxwell’s eyes narrowed. “Nay.”
Hunter scoffed under his breath. “Sounds like it.”
Maxwell stopped short, turning on his brother. “If I walk into that room and beg her forgiveness too soon, it will be about easing me guilt. Nae easing her fear.”
Hunter went still.
Maxwell’s voice lowered. “I want her to heal. I want her to breathe. I want her to feel safe enough to speak without flinching.”
Hunter’s expression softened, the anger in him shifting into reluctant approval. “That… sounds like ye’ve grown a brain.”
Maxwell grunted and continued walking.
The keep did not pause because the laird had feelings. That was the simplest mercy. There were tasks that demanded his hands, his voice, his attention. Men needed pay. Supplies needed ordering. The smithy needed coordination. The patrols needed resetting now that the immediate threat had passed.
Maxwell moved through it all with sharp focus, and yet Ariella’s face followed him like a shadow.
And Finley waited at the end of the corridor with a rolled parchment and an expression that said he’d been waiting too long.
“Me laird,” Finley said.
Maxwell took the parchment, scanned it, then looked up. “Double watch at the east corridor. Nae for enemies. For privacy.”
