“Good,” Lydia said. “Because I daenae think I could survive bein’ that angry again.”
Kieran smiled, closing his eyes briefly as the sounds of the castle faded into the background. For the first time in what felt like years, the future did not seem like a battlefield.
“I still hate ye,” she said shakily though the tenderness in her voice and her actions seemed to indicate otherwise. “I was so angry. I was so sure I wouldnae forgive ye.”
“And now?” he asked softly.
She exhaled, a trembling sound. “Now I’m just… relieved ye’re alive.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “That sounds like forgiveness to me.”
She huffed weakly and brushed at her eyes. “Daenae push yer luck. Ye’re injured.”
The quiet of the healer’s cottage settled around them again, broken only by the low pop of the fire and the distant murmur of voices outside. Kieran lay still, Lydia’s head resting carefully against his shoulder, her breath warm through the fabric of his tunic. For a long moment, he simply listened to her breathe, grounding himself in the undeniable truth that she was here, alive and safe.
He swallowed, throat tight.
“Lydia,” he said softly.
She shifted, lifting her head to look at him, her expression attentive now, all the teasing gone. “Aye?”
He met her gaze, dark eyes steady despite the exhaustion weighing on him. “Come back with me,” he said. “To McDawson Castle. Please, I… ye’re me wife. Even if our weddin’ wasnae under the best circumstances, I want ye there with me. I want our bairn there.”
Her lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across her face followed by something dangerously close to hope.
“I ken I’ve made mistakes,” he went on, his voice rough. “I thought I could protect ye by keepin’ ye at arm’s length, but I was wrong. The truth is… I cannae do this without ye. I daenae want to.” His hand tightened gently around hers. “I love ye, Lydia. I love ye more than me pride. More than me fear.”
For a heartbeat, she said nothing. Then her eyes filled again, not with tears this time but with warmth so fierce it stole the breath from his lungs.
“I love ye too,” she said, the words steady and sure. “I was angry. I was hurt. But I never stopped lovin’ ye.” She leaned closer, pressing her forehead to his. “And aye, I’ll come back.”
Relief crashed over him so hard it almost hurt.
She smiled then, soft and radiant. “We’ll go back together. Ye’ll heal. We’ll raise our bairn where we belong.” Her thumb brushed over his knuckles. “And next time ye decide to sacrifice yerself for me sake, ye’ll tell me first.”
Kieran huffed a quiet laugh. “I’ll try.”
She kissed his brow, gentle, careful, full of promise, and settled back against him. Kieran closed his eyes, the warmth of her, the certainty of her love, stitching him back together more surely than any healer’s hands ever could.
For the first time, the road ahead did not feel like a burden. Rather, it felt like home.
Morning light filtered softly into the small courtyard, pale and clean after the storm, as if the world itself were trying to begin again. The air smelled of wet stone and new grass. Horses stamped quietly nearby, packs already fastened, men speaking in low, respectful tones as they prepared for departure.
Kieran stood a little apart, steadying himself with his cane as the healer fussed one last time over his bandages. Across the yard, Lydia stood with Iris. Kieran watched them, something tightening in his chest at the sight.
Iris held Lydia’s hands between her own, her thumbs brushing over her knuckles the way she had when she had come to the healer’s cottage to comfort her, a way which Kieran could only assume was a habit of hers ever since they were young—when comfort had been the only thing she could freely give. Lydia’s eyes were bright, her smile soft but trembling at the edges.
“Are ye sure ye’re ready?” Iris asked gently. “Ye daenae have to rush back. Ye could stay a little longer to rest.”
Lydia shook her head. “I want to go home,” she said. Then, quieter, “With him.”
Iris smiled at that, warm and proud. “Good,” she said. “I always hoped ye’d find someone who felt like home.”
Lydia swallowed and stepped forward, wrapping her arms tightly around her sister. Iris froze for just a heartbeat before hugging her back just as fiercely, chin resting against Lydia’s hair.
“I’m so sorry,” Lydia whispered, the words pressed into Iris’ shoulder. “For everythin’ I dinnae see. For all the times I should have protected ye.”
Iris pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes bright but steady. “Ye daenae owe me that anymore,” she said softly. “I forgave ye a long time ago. What matters is that ye’re safe. That ye’re happy.”
