He kissed her hair.
Tomorrow.
That night, he only held her, letting his heart beat against hers in the quiet, swearing silently that nothing—no enemy, no scheme, no ghost from the past—would ever take her from him again.
The morning was crisp, the sun just brushing the peaks of Brochel Castle with pale gold, and Elsie felt a flutter of nervous energy as she dressed. She wanted to see Halvard first thing, to ask him about the news regarding the border patrols and perhaps, if she dared, give him a little smile that belonged to them alone.
By the time she stepped into the hall, her hair braided tightly to keep it out of her face, she had mentally rehearsed a dozen ways to greet him, each sweeter and more elaborate than the last.But before she could find him, Torrin, of all people, appeared in the corridor, leaning against the wall as if he were guarding the castle from invisible intruders. He spotted her and straightened, giving a stiff, awkward salute.
“Good mornin’, me lady,” he said, voice cracking slightly.
Elsie smiled faintly. “Torrin. How… are you feeling?” She lowered her voice, hoping no one would overhear.
Torrin’s face went crimson so fast it nearly matched the red of his tunic. “I, well, I’m improvin’. Thanks tae ye, me lady.”
Elsie tried not to giggle. “Improving, or fully recovered?”
His eyes darted about nervously, as though the walls themselves might eavesdrop. “Improvin’ mostly.” He made a vague, embarrassed gesture, prompting a tiny laugh from her.
“I trust you’re taking the herbs as instructed?” she asked, suppressing a grin.
“Twice a day!” he blurted, puffing out his chest. “
Elsie bit back a laugh. “I’ll hold you accountable, Torrin.”
He looked like she had just sentenced him to death by polite scrutiny. “Aye, me lady. Whatever ye command.”
Just then, Halvard appeared at the corridor’s far end, his boots echoing on the stone. He froze mid-step when he saw her leaning close to Torrin, their voices low, laughing softly. A dark flicker passed over his face, sharp and quick—an animal instinct.
Elsie noticed immediately. She glanced at him, her hand lifting slightly in greeting, but Torrin’s eyes went wide and he straightened at her side, looking as though he had been caught red-handed stealing bread from the kitchen.
“Halvard,” Elsie said, her voice calm. “I was just checking on him. He?—”
But Halvard’s long stride carried him to them before she could finish, his face tight, his jaw set. His hand rose, dismissing Torrin as though the man were suddenly invisible.
“Go,” Halvard barked, eyes dark and voice cutting, sharp as a blade. “Leave us.”
Torrin practically leapt, giving Elsie a panicked glance. “Aye, me laird!” he stammered before disappearing down the hall as if propelled by some hidden force.
Elsie stared after him, a mixture of exasperation and amusement swirling in her chest. Halvard turned to her, arms crossed, a scowl tugging at his mouth.
Instantly, Halvard turned to glare at Elsie.
“Ye think it wise tae be alone with a soldier like that?” he demanded, his voice low and tense.
“I was helping him!” Elsie protested, a flush creeping up her cheeks. “It’s nothing. He came to the healer’s the other day with… well, a problem, and I?—”
“Ye’re nae supposed tae be alone with him!” Halvard interrupted, taking a step closer, his presence sudden and suffocating.
Elsie caught herself, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “I wasn’t alone with him! And it’s not?—”
Halvard cut her off with a sharp breath, his gaze narrowing. “I saw ye. Laughin’. Leanin’ in.” His tone softened, just slightly, as if trying not to show the flare of possessiveness he felt. “Ye dinnae understand how it looks.”
“It looks exactly like what it is!” she snapped, then caught herself. “I mean… I wasn’t—” She sighed, shoulders drooping. “Halvard, I was helping him. Please, don’t overreact over nothing. Do you truly think I would ever even entertain the idea of… of encouraging the advances of a soldier? Everything else aside, I wouldn’t do anything that would make people talk.”
He studied her face for a long moment, his eyes dark and unreadable, then exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “It daesnae matter. Ye need tae stay out o’ corridors with soldiers unaccompanied. Ye hear me?”
For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Elsie stared at him in disbelief, her mouth slightly parted, her eyes wide as she tried to wrap her mind around Halvard’s reaction. How could he not trust her? Being jealous was one thing—after all, Elsie knew the feeling well. Every time Bonnie was mentioned, jealousy flared up inside her like a flame, threatening to burn her alive. But Halvard was not simply jealous; he was on the verge of paranoia.
