"Take Lady Ada tae the east tower. The blue chamber." Magnus's voice was carefully neutral. "See that she has everythin' she needs."
"Aye, me jarl." Isla bobbed a quick curtsy, then turned to Ada with a much warmer expression. "This way, me lady."
Ada's throat felt too tight to speak. She managed a small nod and followed Isla out of the great hall, her face burning with humiliation, her hands trembling at her sides.
Part of her wanted to run—back down to the dock, onto that cursed ship, to go anywhere but that cold stone keep where she was unwanted and trapped. But where would she go? Back to her father, who'd sold her? Into the Highlands, where his men still hunted her?
There was nowhere left to run. There never had been.
Behind her, she heard Magnus and Brian begin speaking in low voices, their words indistinct but the tension between them clear.
"Dinnae mind him, me lady," Isla said as they climbed a spiral staircase. "The laird's had some hard years. He's nae usually so..."
"Cold?" Ada supplied, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I was goin' tae say careful." Isla glanced back at her, sympathy clear in her expression. "But aye, cold works too."
They reached a landing, then another corridor. This one was quieter, away from the main keep.
The blue chamber turned out to be larger than had Ada expected—a proper lady's room with a curtained bed, a wooden chest for clothes, and a narrow window that looked out over the churning sea.
"I'll have water brought up fer washin'," Isla said, moving to light candles from the taper she carried. "And food too. Ye must be starvin' after that crossin'."
Ada's stomach chose that moment to remind her she hadn't eaten since dawn. "Thank ye."
Isla paused at the door, her hand on the latch. "If ye need anythin', just call fer me. I help run the household. I'll see ye're taken care of."
"I appreciate that."
The door closed softly, leaving Ada alone.
She moved to the window, pressed her forehead against the cold stone, and stared out at the gray sea. Her reflection stared back from the glass. Pale, exhausted, with blond hair escaping from her braid in tangled strands.
That was her life now. That cold stone room. That man who couldn't even look at her. That marriage that felt less like an alliance and more like a trap closing around her throat.
She thought about her father—Conall MacTavish, who'd offered her to the king's Pact without asking, without caring what she wanted.
She'd spent her whole life trying to be useful to him, trying to earn even a scrap of his attention or approval. And in the end, he'd used her anyway. Sold her like livestock to secure his position at court.
The five Viking lairds needed Highland brides. Most fathers had refused to offer their daughters, too afraid of the rumors, the violence, the savage Norsemen who ruled the western isles with blood and steel.
But not Conall MacTavish. He'd volunteered Ada eagerly, seeing opportunity where others saw danger. A chance to prove his loyalty to the Crown. A chance to gain favor with the king.
What happened to Ada after didn't matter to him. It never had.
A knock at the door made her turn. She expected Isla with water, or perhaps a servant with food.
Instead, when she called out to enter, the man who stepped through was her father's guard, Donnan—she'd felt his eyes on her throughout the journey, hovering at the edges of her vision like a vulture waiting for carrion.
Her father never did anything without purpose, and sending Donnan to 'protect' her was no act of kindness. Whatever Conall had planned, Donnan was part of it. And standing there, alone with him in her chamber, Ada felt the trap close another degree tighter.
"Lady Ada." He inclined his head respectfully, but his eyes traveled over her in a way that felt anything but respectful. "I wanted tae make certain ye were taken care of. The laird seemed... displeased."
"I'm fine." Ada moved away from the window, putting the bed between them. "Ye can report tae me faither that I'm settled."
"I will." But he didn't leave. Instead, he stepped further into the room, his gaze sweeping over the chamber as though taking inventory. "Though I must say, me lady, yer faither willnae be pleased tae hear how ye were received. He expected better treatment fer his daughter."
Ada's hands clenched at her sides. "Me faither's expectations are nae me concern."
