Ada nodded, her throat tight. "Aye. I want tae learn."
"Good." Magnus picked up the small pot of salve, scooped some onto his finger. "This is goin' tae sting worse than the water."
He was right. The salve burned like fire when he dabbed it onto her split lip. Ada hissed through her teeth but didn't pull away. Just watched his face as he worked—the furrow between his brows, the way his jaw clenched every time she winced.
Like her pain hurt him more than it hurt her.
When he finished with her lip, he moved to the bruise on her jaw. Applied the salve with feather-light touches that shouldn't have affected her the way they did. But something about the gentleness—about having this hard, dangerous man treating her like she was made of glass—made emotion well up in her chest.
"I'm sorry," Ada said suddenly.
Magnus looked up, startled. "Fer what?"
"Fer nae listenin' when ye told me to stay put. I went tae get me healin’ kit, but I should’ve waited." Her voice wavered. "I should have waited fer ye."
So that was why she had left the chamber.
"Ada. Stop." Magnus set down the salve, took both her hands in his. "Ye went tae get yer healin' supplies because ye thought there might be people who needed ye. That's nae somethin' tae apologize fer. That's who ye are."
"But if I'd just stayed?—"
"They would have found another way. Another time." His grip tightened on her hands. "This was because yer faither is a schemin' bastard who's willin' tae use his own daughter as a pawn."
The words hit harder than they should have. Maybe because she was hearing Magnus say it out loud.
"He wanted a ransom," Ada said quietly. "I heard them talkin'. They were goin' tae demand enough gold tae bankrupt ye. Tae leave ye with nay coin fer soldiers or weapons. Tae make ye weak."
Magnus's expression went cold. "So he could attack without resistance."
"Aye." Ada's hands curled into fists in his grip. "He's been plannin' this all along. The marriage wasnae about peace, or about being favored by the Crown and getting rid of me. It was about weakenin’ ye further."
"I ken." Magnus's voice was flat. Dangerous. "I figured that out the moment I heard about the purple heather from the scout. But thinkin’ it and havin' proof are two different things. Now we have proof."
"What will ye dae?"
"What I should have done from the start." Magnus stood, pulled her up with him. "Prepare fer war. Gather our allies and make sure yer faither understands that touchin' ye—hurtin' ye—will cost him everythin' he holds dear."
The words should have frightened her. Should have made her worry about the violence to come, about the lives that would be lost.
But all Ada felt was a fierce, burning satisfaction.
Her father had tried to use her. Had treated her like property to be traded and manipulated. Had sent men to drag her away in the night like she was nothing more than a tool for his ambition.
And Magnus—the man she'd been forced to marry—was ready to go to war over it.
"Thank ye," Ada whispered.
Magnus's expression softened.
"Ada." Magnus cupped her face in both hands, his touch impossibly gentle despite the calluses on his palms. "I would burn the world to ash before I let anyone take ye from me. Dae ye understand that?"
Her breath caught. "Magnus?—"
"I mean it. I ken I've nae been—I ken I've kept ye at a distance. Been afraid tae trust what I feel. But taenight, when I thought I'd lost ye—" He stopped. "I'm done bein' afraid."
Ada's heart slammed against her ribs. "What are ye sayin'?"
Just then a knock came at the door.
