“Ye’ll see,” he said and then turned back around, staring straight ahead in silence.
The wind whipped Lydia’s face, chilling her to the bone. She hadn’t had the chance to grab a cloak with her, and now, with only her dress to protect her from the chill, she was shivering. Her breath fogged in the air in front of her, like a sprite, but despite it all, she followed Kieran down the path.
In the end, they reached the lake that spread near the castle, its far shore unseen to the eye, especially so late in the day. Above them, stars exploded in the clear sky. It wasn’t often that Lydia could see so many as they were often obscured by the clouds, but now, she stared up at them, her head tilted back to take it all in.
And low in the horizon, as if trying to take a dip in the lake, the moon hung round and full.
“I come here when I want to be away from everyone,” Kieran said in a quiet voice, as if he was reluctant to admit it. “When it all gets too much or… or when I need some time from it all.”
Lydia stared straight ahead at the rippling waves, the moonlight reflected on them, bright and golden. Then she turned to look at Kieran, catching his profile. Under the moonlight, he was carved in shadow, his face roughened by what must have been lack of sleep and by the weight resting on his shoulders.
“Sometimes I take the boat out,” Kieran added, pointing to a small boat moored by rope to a narrow, wooden pier. “There’s peace if ye go far enough, and the waters are always calm.”
Lydia watched the boat as it undulated gently over the sparse waves then a wild idea struck her.
“Why dinnae we go, then?”
“Where?” asked Kieran.
“Out there,” said Lydia. “In the water.”
With a bemused smile, Kieran shook his head. “At this time?”
“Aye,” said Lydia with a shrug. “Why not?”
“I figure it’s quite late, lass.”
“So be it,” she said. “If it’s peace ye’re searchin’ for, then ye’ll find it there. Isnae that what ye said?”
Kieran hesitated, though only for a moment, then he grabbed her hand again, and without another word, he dragged her along over to the rickety pier.
The old, waterlogged wood creaked under her slippers, but Lydia laughed, loud and unbidden, as Kieran finally showed some excitement, his swift, clever fingers making quick work of the rope. Within minutes, they were out in the open water, Kieran rowing farther and farther into the waters. There, the air was even sharper, punctuated by the damp chill of the lake, but Lydiaonly curled into herself, pulling her knees up to her chest to keep warm.
As they crossed the waters, the lake’s surface was like a perfect mirror of the sky above—velvety dark, a scattering of light dancing over the gentle waves. Lydia pulled up her sleeve and dipped her hand in the water, letting it flow through her fingers until the sensation of pins and needles from the cold was too much.
Kieran’s broad shoulders rose and fell as he rowed, his gaze flicking toward her more often than the oars required. His dark hair fell loose from its ribbon, the wind tugging strands across his temples. He looked less like the formidable warrior she had known these past weeks and more like a man stripped of defenses, as exposed as the still water around them.
“Are ye cold?” he asked, his voice low, its burr softened by concern.
Lydia shook her head. “I’m fine,” she lied, just because she didn’t want to go back to the keep just yet. “If I get cold, I’ll tell ye.”
“Ye look like ye’re cold,” he said, eyes narrowing in the dark as he took in her bundled form. “I should have brought ye yer cloak.”
“I’m fine,” Lydia insisted. “Daenae fash. I like it here.”
That was no lie—and neither had been what Kieran had said about the place. It truly was peaceful, every sound fading away in the distance, leaving behind a gentle hush.
She could understand why he liked to come here. If anything, she would like to start coming out here too.
Kieran slowed the oars, letting the boat drift. “We shouldnae have stayed at the feast so long. I should have seen the danger sooner.”
“Och, Kieran… how could ye have known?” Lydia asked. “There were so many guards at the feast, it’s a wonder those two made it through. They did, aye, but I’m safe now. Ye saved me.”
“It has happened too many times,” he said, and he wasn’t wrong. Lydia was shaken more every time as it seemed that whoever was after her was relentless and wouldn’t rest until she was dead. “And it willnae stop until I put an end to it meself.”
Lydia’s fingers brushed the side of the boat, feeling the smooth, worn wood under them. “If ye mean to blame yerself for every misfortune in the Highlands, ye’ll die of exhaustion long before anyone gets the chance to kill me.”
Kieran exhaled, the sound half laugh, half ache. “Ye shouldnae jest about such things, lass.”
