And beside him, Elsie’s hand remained warm and unyielding—an anchor stronger than any crown.
The fire had burned down to a deep, steady glow by the time the great hall emptied.
Only Halvard and Elsie remained near the hearth, the vast stone chamber softened by shadow and quiet. Outside, the wind moved gently along the walls of Brochel Castle, no longer a threat but a presence, familiar and watchful. The sea beyond the cliffs breathed slow and even, as though it, too, had settled.
Halvard sat back in his chair, one arm resting along the table, watching Elsie as she stood by the fire. She held a cup of wine she had long since forgotten to drink, her gaze distant, thoughtful.
“Yer sister,” Halvard said at last, breaking the silence. “We should speak o’ her.”
Elsie turned at once, the change in her immediate. Worry flared first—quick and instinctive—then hope followed close behind.
“Selene,” she breathed. “Yes.”
He rose and joined her by the hearth. “I promised ye I would bring her here, tae Raasay. An’ I dinnae forget me promises.”
He had been thinking about it ever since they had returned. Though Elsie hadn’t mentioned it, Halvard knew with utmost certainty that she wanted nothing more than to see her sister again.
And now it was time.
Her fingers tightened around the cup. “You truly mean it? Soon?”
“Aye,” he said. “Now that Harcourt’s shadow is gone an’ the king has chosen tae watch rather than strike, there is nay reason tae delay.”
Elsie set the cup aside and stepped closer, her eyes brightening in a way that made something warm and fierce bloom in his chest.
“She’s never seen the Highlands,” she said, her words tumbling over one another now. “She used to tell me she imagined themall mist and wild green hills. She’ll love it here, Halvard. I know she will.”
He smiled at her—an expression still rare enough to feel like a gift. “Anyone with sense would.”
Elsie laughed softly. “She’s strong. Stronger than she looks. She’ll fit in better than you think. And she won’t be afraid of you.”
He raised a brow. “Is that so?”
“She’ll see you the way I do,” Elsie said simply. “As a good man who pretends to be savage.”
The warmth spread deeper at that, reaching every part of him. It was not often that someone described him as a good man. Savage was the only epithet that anyone had given him in a long time, and though he had done much to deserve it, he wanted nothing more than to be the kind of man who deserved to be called good by someone as kind and as luminous as Elsie.
“How soon would we go?” she asked, barely containing her excitement now. “We’d need a ship, of course, and letters… oh, and I must warn her in advance.”
Halvard chuckled, low and genuine.
Elsie grinned at him, a real, bright smile that seemed to light up her entire face, and the sight of it made his chest ache in the best way.
“We’ll sail as soon as the weather allows,” he said. “Sten will come with us. A small escort, enough tae make a statement without stirring the Crown.”
Her eyes shone. “You’re serious.”
“I am,” he said. “She is yer blood. That makes her mine as well.”
Elsie stared at him for a moment, then surged forward and wrapped her arms around him. The embrace was fierce, sudden, unguarded. Halvard stiffened in surprise before his arms closed around her, holding her close.
“Thank you,” she whispered into his chest. “You don’t know what this means to me.”
“I think I dae,” he said, pressing his lips to her hair. “An’ I am glad fer it.”
Elsie pulled back just enough to look up at him, her face alight with anticipation. “I’ll show her the cliffs. And the sea. And the hall where you sit in judgment like some ancient king.”
“Careful,” he said dryly. “Ye’ll give her the wrong idea.”
