Did somethin’ happen to her? Surely, she wasnae attacked… surely. I would have known.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. His voice sounded rougher than he intended as he grabbed her shoulders, making her face him fully. “Are ye hurt? Did someone say somethin’?”
Lydia shook her head, lips parting, then closing again. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft—frighteningly so.
“Nay… nay, nothin’ of the sort,” she said. “I wasnae hurt, daenae fash.”
“Were ye attacked?”
“Nay, nay,” Lydia said, shaking her head, and Kieran could finally draw breath again. But that didn’t explain why she seemed so dazed, as if she was hardly taking in the world around her. It didn’t explain why she seemed so frightened.
“Then what is it?” Kieran asked. “Why are ye like this?”
Lydia hesitated, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth to worry at the flesh. With a sigh, Kieran leaned closer and pressed a finger to her lip, pulling it free.
She gave him a smile—small, almost sad in a way he hadn’t seen before. When he took her hands in his, he found them trembling.
“Kieran… I’m pregnant.”
The world seemed to stop around him, as if everything had come to a sudden halt. His breath seized, his heartbeat faltered, the stone under his boots might as well have dropped away. Kieran stood completely still, as if frozen by the words hanging between them.
Pregnant.
She was pregnant.
Lydia’s eyes searched his face, confusion and fragile hope swirling together in their depths. “Kieran? Say somethin, please.”
He couldn’t. What was there to say?
All he could see were graves. All he could hear were screams. All he could feel was blood on his hands that wasn’t his own.
Kieran had sworn to himself that no harm would befall Lydia. He had sworn to himself he would do anything it took to keep her safe. But now there was a child in the mix, and the thought of something happening to her frightened him so much that he could hardly move. If she stayed there, if she remained in the keep where danger seemed to lurk around every corner, he was bound to make a mistake. With her there, he would blind himself to the right path forward. He would be rash, unpredictable, acting too soon without any solid plan.
And in the end, it would hurt her and the child both.
“Ye must leave,” he forced out, his voice threatening to break.
Lydia blinked in surprise, stunned. “Wh… what?”
But Kieran was already moving, shaking his head as he took step after step away from her, away from the life she was nurturing.
He tore open the wardrobe, snatched one of her satchels from the shelf, and began stuffing it with gowns, shawls, chemises—anything his shaking hands could grab. He didn’t care what he shoved in there—only that it was enough for her to take on the journey home.
“Kieran?” Lydia stepped forward, panic in her voice. “What are ye doing?”
“Ye’re going home,” he said brusquely, grabbing her cloak from its hook. “Ye’ll leave within fifteen minutes.”
“What? Why?” Lydia’s voice rose, laced with panic. “Kieran, look at me!”
Despite her pleas, he didn’t. He couldn’t. He moved past her toward the bed where her trunk sat half-empty. “I’ll have yer carriage prepared. Ye’ll go back to yer sister’s estate.”
“Kieran, stop!” Lydia rushed to his side and grabbed his wrist. “Stop and talk to me!”
Kieran froze only for a breath, looking at her hand, small and warm on his skin, before gently prying her fingers away. When he met her gaze, he found her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
He wished he didn’t have to do this to her. He wished he could keep her here, safe and sound, but now that she was pregnant, the risk of her dying was even bigger. If he was right, if Sebastian was truly behind all this, then he wouldn’t allow Kieran to have an heir. He wouldn’t risk Lydia’s pregnancy progressing.
And news like that spread like wildfire in a keep.
