“He’s arrogant,” Iris said simply. “And desperate. Men like him make their worst decisions when they feel their power slippin’.”
Lydia exhaled a shaky breath and looked at the line of riders forming near the gate. Elijah stood tall beside his horse, issuing crisp orders, his face a mask of calm authority. There was something deeply reassuring about watching him—grounded, steady, purposeful as he was, inspiring confidence in everyone around him.
Kieran was the same—his men following him not only willingly but with devotion and trust. Surely, Lydia thought, if the time came when Elijah’s forces would clash with Sebastian, Kieran would be there, too. And there was no way Sebastian could defeat them both, not even with an entire army.
Her throat tightened painfully, as it always did when she thought about Sebastian. The man had become a hovering shadow over her ever since Kieran had begun to suspect him, and now that she knew the truth, she couldn’t bear the mere thought of it. All she wanted was for the day to come when he would be out of their lives for good.
She had already suffered enough because of him; Kieran had suffered even more. And now, he was threatening both her sister and Elijah, too.
“Iris,” Lydia asked softly, “are ye nae afraid for him?”
Iris turned to her, and Lydia saw the truth flicker in her sister’s eyes—the fear, the love, the iron resolve. “Of course, I am.”
Lydia swallowed in a dry throat, the action bringing no relief. “I think… I think I would be terrified if Kieran were in his place.”
The words slipped out before she could catch them, before she could decide whether she wanted to admit them aloud. They hung between the two of them, raw and exposed.
Iris did not push. She never did.
“He is yer husband,” Iris said gently. “Nay matter what’s happened.”
Lydia looked down at her hands, twisting the edge of her cloak nervously, just to have something to do with them. “Would ye truly let Elijah go like this? Into danger?”
Iris considered her answer carefully, staring at her husband as he flitted about the courtyard, making sure everyone was ready for the journey.
“It’s nae about lettin’ him,” Iris said. “This is what he has to do. This is what a laird does. And… I trust him, even if I’m afraid.”
Lydia’s heart clenched with an ache that had no tangible source. “I daenae think I could bear it.”
“Ye could,” Iris said confidently. “Ye may nae ken it, but ye’re stronger than ye think. And… Elijah promised me he would come back.” A faint smile touched Iris’ lips, one that spoke ofjust how much love existed between the two of them. “And he always keeps his promises.”
Lydia drew in a slow, steadying breath. Something warm, small but steady, glowed faintly in her chest—hope. With her sister’s words, she could hope that in the end, everything would be fine.
Iris seemed to believe it, so Lydia would simply have to make herself believe it too.
“That’s… comfortin’,” she said. “Truly.”
Iris wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “It should be. And Kieran?—”
Lydia stiffened, as she always did these days when Kieran was mentioned. Ever since he had sent her away, his name was enough to bring forth another rift in her heart, another piece of it shattered.
Iris softened her voice. “If Elijah sends word to him, he’ll come too. I truly believe he will.”
And Lydia, despite it all, believed that too.
Elijah approached then, tall and imposing, his breath curling in the chill air.
“It’s time,” he said, his voice low but steady. He touched Iris’ chin gently, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes, soaking in the brief moment. Then he turned to Lydia, offering a reassuring nod.
“Ye’ll both be safe here,” he said. “I’m leavin’ half me best guards stationed around the keep. Nay one is gettin’ inside these walls.”
Lydia gave him a grateful nod. “Be careful.”
He gave a small, confident smirk. “I always am.”
Iris stepped forward, gripping his arm. “Come back to me,” she said.
Elijah’s eyes softened. “Always.”
