They crossed the courtyard in silence. Guards watched from the walls, their expressions unreadable. A few servants hurried past with buckets and bundles, casting quick glances at Ada before looking away.
The great hall was warmer but no less intimidating. A fire burned in the massive hearth, throwing shadows across tapestries that depicted longships and sea battles. The tables were empty, the benches pushed back against the walls.
This wasn't a hall made for feasting. It was a hall made for war councils.
Brian moved to stand near the hearth, motioning for Magnus to join him. "Shall we?"
Magnus's friend—Torvald, Ada thought she’d heard him called—touched his arm briefly. "I'll wait outside."
"Stay." Magnus's voice carried an edge of command that made Torvald hesitate, then nod. He moved to lean against the far wall, arms crossed, watching.
Brian produced a rolled parchment from inside his robes, breaking the wax seal with practiced efficiency. "The decree," he said, unrolling it. "From King Alexander II of Scotland, sealed and witnessed by his Council."
He began to read, his voice echoing in the empty hall.
"By royal command and in accordance with the Lairds' Pact established in the year of our Lord 1230, Laird Magnus Haraldson of Barra is hereby ordered tae wed Lady Ada MacTavish, daughter of Laird Conall MacTavish, within a fortnight of her arrival on Barra. This union shall be witnessed by representatives of the Crown and consummated as proof of the alliance between Highland and Norse bloodlines. Refusal tae comply will result in forfeiture of lands, title, and?—"
"I ken what it says," Magnus interrupted. "I can read."
Brian looked up from the parchment, his expression carefully neutral. "Then ye understand there is nay room fer refusal. The marriage will take place."
Magnus's voice was quiet, but something in it made the air feel heavier. "I willnae be forced intae a marriage I dinnae want."
Ada's breath caught. She'd been standing near the door, trying to make herself invisible, but the words still struck like a physical blow. Humiliation burned through her chest, hot and suffocating.
Neither had she wanted that marriage. But no one had asked her what she wanted. Not her father, not the king, not the man who'd once fought two guards to protect her and now refused to even look at her. She was a bargaining piece, passed from hand to hand, and Magnus's rejection only proved what she'd always known: her worth began and ended with her usefulness to men more powerful than herself.
"Want?" Brian's eyebrows rose. "Me lord, with all due respect, this is a political alliance, nae a love match. What yewantis nae relevant."
"Dinnae forget that I am a laird, Brian, and I have the power tae choose what is good fer me and me clan." Magnus moved away from the hearth, his movements controlled but radiating tension. "This is me life. Me keep. Me people who'll suffer if this alliance fails."
"Then dinnae let it fail." Brian's voice hardened. "Marry the lass. Honor the decree. Keep yer lands and yer title and yer people safe. Or refuse, and watch the king's armies sail fer yer shores."
Magnus stared at him for a long moment.
"The decree says a fortnight," Magnus said finally.
"Aye, tae prepare fer the ceremony."
"Tae decide if this alliance will work." Magnus's gaze shifted to Ada for just a moment, then away again, as though looking at her cost him something.
And perhaps it did. After all to him she was a desperate woman who'd used him without explanation, without gratitude, and disappeared before he could demand answers. She'd made him a fool once. Of course, he wouldn't risk it again.
The silence that followed felt heavy enough to crush stone.
Brian studied Magnus's face, looking for something. Whatever he found there made him nod slowly.
"A fortnight and nae a moment longer. If the marriage hasnae taken place by then, I'll have nay choice but tae report yer refusal."
"Understood."
Brian rolled up the parchment, tucked it back into his robes. "I'll need chambers fer meself and the guards. We'll remain here until the ceremony is complete."
"Torvald will see tae it." Magnus gestured toward his friend, who straightened from his position against the wall. "And someone should show Lady Ada tae her chambers." He still didn't look at her. Magnus moved toward the door, pausing only long enough to call out into the corridor. "Isla!"
A young woman appeared almost immediately, as though she'd been waiting just outside. She was small and sturdy, with braided-back dark hair and intelligent eyes that took in the scene quickly.
"Me jarl?"
