He jerked upright, disoriented, reaching instinctively for the blade he kept beside his bed. Gray morning light filtered through the narrow window. Too early. Far too early.
"What?" he shouted.
The door opened. Torvald stood there, already dressed, his expression grim. "Brian wants tae see ye. Now."
Magnus cursed. "What time is it?"
"Dawn. Maybe a bit past. A messenger arrived from the king an hour ago." Torvald moved into the room, began gathering Magnus's clothes from where they'd been discarded the night before. "Brian's been in yer study since then, readin' whatever the king sent. He willnae tell me what it says, but he's nae happy."
"Of course, he's nae happy. He's never happy." Magnus swung his legs out of bed, took the shirt Torvald tossed him. "Did he say what the message was about?"
"The weddin’. What else?"
Magnus pulled on his clothes quickly, ran his hands through his hair to tame it into something resembling order. His mind was already racing ahead, trying to anticipate what new demands the king might have made.
More witnesses? A larger ceremony? Some performative display of Highland-Norse unity that would make them both look like fools?
He made his way down to his study, Torvald trailing behind. Brian stood by the window, still wearing his traveling clothes from the day before, a rolled parchment clutched in one hand.
"Me laird," he said without turning. "Thank ye fer comin' so promptly."
"Ye didnae leave me much choice." Magnus moved to stand behind his desk, using it as a barrier between himself and whatever news Brian carried. "What daes the king want now?"
Brian finally turned. He looked tired, Magnus noted. Older than he had just the day before. "The king is... concerned about the pace of this union."
"The decree said a fortnight. We still have some time."
"Ten days. Aye, I ken." Brian unrolled the parchment. "But His Majesty feels that given the... circumstances... a longer engagement serves nay purpose. He wishes the marriage tae take place as soon as possible."
Magnus's jaw tightened. "How soon?"
"In two days."
"That's nae possible."
"It's an order, nae a request." Brian's voice hardened. "The king has heard rumors. About yer refusal on the dock and yer reluctance tae honor the Pact. He's beginnin' tae question yer loyalty, Magnus. And when the king questions a man's loyalty..." He let the sentence hang, unfinished.
Magnus knew what came after that silence. Accusations. Investigations. Armies sailing for Barra's shores.
"In two days," he repeated.
"Aye. The ceremony will be simple, just witnesses from the Crown and yer own people. Nay need fer a feast or celebration. Just the vows, the consummation, and the signed documents provin' the union is complete." Brian set the parchment on the desk. "I'm sorry, me laird. I ken this is nae what ye wanted. But the king is losin' patience."
"With me or with the Pact?"
"With all of it. Erik's marriage tae Claricia nearly failed. Yer refusal has made him doubt the entire arrangement. If this marriage daesnae go smoothly..." Brian shook his head. "He'll find another way tae secure the Isles. One that daesnae involve givin' Norse lairds any say in their own futures."
Magnus stared at the parchment. Two days. In two days, he'd be bound to Ada MacTavish for the rest of his life. Bound to a woman he barely knew, barely trusted, barely understood.
But…
A woman who'd proven herself yesterday in ways he hadn't expected.
A woman who might,might, be exactly what Torvald said she was.
"Fine," Magnus said. "Two days."
Brian's relief was visible. "Thank ye. I'll make the arrangements."
