The lake stretched before them,its surface mirror-smooth and reflecting the sky like polished silver. Mountains rose in the distance, their peaks still touched with snow. Trees lined the shore, their branches dipping down to kiss the water. It was beautiful, aye, but Ewan had seen it a thousand times.
Maia was lookingat it like she'd never seen anything so magnificent in her life.
"It's perfect,"she whispered. "It's absolutely perfect."
Before Ewan could respond,before he could warn her to be careful of the rocks near the shore, Maia was running.
She gatheredher skirts in her hands and ran toward the water like a child, her face bright with joy, her hair coming loose from its pins to stream behind her. Ewan tensed, his hand instinctively going to his sword hilt, ready to chase her down if this was some elaborate escape attempt.
But Maia didn't runinto the forest. Didn't try to flee.
She ranstraight to the water's edge and dropped to her knees on the smooth stones there, reaching out to touch the surface with trembling fingers.
Ewan approached more slowly,watching as she dipped her hand into the lake and brought it up, letting the water stream between her fingers. Her expression was serene, peaceful in a way he'd never seen before.
"This isthe first time I've touched a lake's surface in six years," she said softly, not looking at him. Just staring at the water like it held all the answers to questions she'd been asking for too long. "The first time I've felt runnin' water that wasnae from a basin in me chambers."
Ewan stiffened,his chest tightening with an emotion he couldn't name. "Take yer time, ye need it."
Maia finally lookedup at him, and the sadness in her eyes was almost unbearable. "The only water I touched was what the servants brought me in pitchers. The only sky I saw was through barred windows. The only life I had was what I could read about in the books Mollie smuggled to me."
She turned backto the lake, trailing her fingers through the water again. "I tried to tell ye. Tried to warn ye that I wasnae as important as ye thought. That me uncle wouldnae care if ye took me. But ye dinnae believe me."
"The bars,"Ewan said, his voice rough.
Maia's laugh was hollow."They were to keep me in. After I tried to escape."
Fury.Pure, white-hot fury flooded through Ewan's veins. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw locked so tight he could hear his teeth grinding.
He wantedto hunt down Callen Ferguson. Wanted to drag him from his stolen seat of power and make him suffer every indignity, every cruelty, every moment of isolation he'd inflicted on Maia.
He wantedto lock him in a cell and throw away the key, let him rot in darkness for six years, and see how much of his spirit survived.
He wantedto erase six long, lonely years of imprisonment, wanted to give Maia back all the moments she'd lost, all the experiences her uncle had stolen from her.
"I'm sorry,"he said instead, the words feeling inadequate. "I'm sorry that happened to ye. Sorry ye had to endure that. Sorry I dinnae believe ye when ye tried to tell me."
Maia glanced at him,surprise flickering across her face. "Ye daenae need to apologize. Ye dinnae ken."
"I should have listened."
"Why?"There was genuine curiosity in her voice now. "Ye kidnapped me for revenge against me uncle. Why would ye care about the details of me imprisonment?"
Because watchingher touch the lake water, as if it were a miracle, made his chest ache. Because hearing about what she'd endured made him want to commit murder.
Ewan shovedhis thoughts down and settled onto the stones beside her, careful to maintain a respectful distance. "Me parents," he said abruptly, "they werenae kind people."
Maia's handstilled in the water. "What?"
"Ye askedme once if I'd been injured in battle. If I had scars." Ewan stared out at the lake, finding it easier to talk when hewasn't looking at her. "I do. But the worst ones are nae from battle. They're from me childhood."
He could feelher gaze on him, could sense her attention shifting fully to him.
"Me maither wanted perfection,"he continued, the words coming easier than he'd expected. "Every lesson had to be mastered, every task completed flawlessly. And when I failed, when I was just a lad tryin' his best but fallin' short, she had ways of expressin' her disappointment."
"Ewan…"
"And me faither thoughtI was too soft. Too gentle. He wanted a warrior, nae a boy who liked carvin' wood and climbin' mountains. So he decided to toughen me up." Ewan's jaw clenched. "He taught me that anger was strength. That violence was power. That the only way to survive was to be harder, meaner, more ruthless than anyone else."
