“We daenae have time for this,” he said. “Pack only what’s necessary. I’ll send the rest after ye.”
“Kieran!” Lydia’s voice cracked with hurt and confusion. “Please tell me what’s happenin’! Why are ye sendin’ me away?”
But he moved like a man possessed, as if every second wasted put her directly in harm’s path.
“Kieran!” she pleaded, stepping between him and the trunk. “Look at me. Look me in the eyes and tell me why.”
Kieran’s jaw clenched. His chest heaved once, his breath trembling as he forced his gaze upward. But the moment his eyes met hers, soft and frightened as they were, his throat closed.
He couldn’t speak. He could hardly breathe.
Instead, he turned away, grabbing her satchel and slinging it over his shoulder.
“A carriage will be at the gate in fifteen minutes,” he said hoarsely. “Be ready.”
And before she could stop him, before she could ask again, before he shattered entirely, he strode out of the room, leaving Lydia standing alone, trembling, tears gathering in her stunned eyes.
Fifteen minutes passed like the slow bleeding of a wound, every second dragging, heavy, and agonizing. Kieran stood at the top of the stone steps before the keep, rain dripping from the eaves, the gray sky hanging low over the courtyard. The cold air bit at his skin, but he barely felt it.
He told himself he was waiting to ensure the carriage left safely. He told himself he was being cautious, that this was necessary. But the truth pressed painfully against his ribs—he was close to breaking.
The carriage rolled into view, pulled by two sturdy mares. Lydia sat inside, her silhouette faint behind the small window. Kieran couldn’t see her face, not fully, but he caught the shape of her hand pressed against the glass, searching, as if hoping he would look back.
He didn’t let himself move because if he stepped forward, if he met her eyes, if he let himself be human for even a heartbeat, he would run to her, drag her back into his arms, and beg her not to go.
And if he did that, she would die.
Instead, he kept his spine rigid, his hands clasped behind him, his expression carved from stone as the driver snapped the reins.
The carriage lurched forward, and the wheels clattered over the stones. The horses snorted, their breath fogging the cold air. In front of Kieran, the sound of departure echoed like the final toll of a bell.
He watched the carriage pull away, watched Lydia vanish beyond the mist curling at the courtyard gates. And only then, when she was too far to see him, did his façade crack.
A sharp pang shot through his chest, so sudden he staggered a half-step. The ache spread, a violent, twisting hurt that made him want to roar, to punch the stone wall beside him until his knuckles broke.
It was too late to call her back now, and besides, he certainly shouldn’t. Not only that, but his child was leaving with her, and he hadn’t said goodbye. He hadn’t told her he loved her. He hadn’t given her comfort or explanation or anything but cold orders and silence.
He tasted copper on his tongue where he had bitten down too hard.
“She’s safer,” he mumbled to himself, but the words felt flimsy, hollow. “She’s safer without me.”
“Kieran.” Michael stood behind him, rain beading on his cloak, his expression tight with concern. “Why did ye send her away?”
The question was quiet, but it carried weight—too much of it.
“It’s none of yer business,” Kieran snapped, the words harsher than he intended.
Michael didn’t flinch, though, accustomed as he was to such moods. “She’s yer wife. Our Lady. And ye sendin’ her off without explanation affects more than ye seem to think.”
Kieran’s hands curled into fists. “I said it’s none of yer business.”
Michael held his gaze, calm and steady. He had always been far too perceptive.
“Ye care for her,” Michael said softly. “I understand that. And I’m guessin’ ye think she’s safer in her sister’s home which… which may be true enough. But how long will she stay there? She cannae spend the rest of her life there.”
“She’ll spend as much time there as she needs,” he said. “Until we eliminate the threat, she willnae step foot in this keep.”
“But who kens how long that will take?” Michael asked. “She should be here by yer side. This is her place.”
