“What am I going to do?” she whispered to the water, to the dawn, to whatever god might be listening.
The loch offered no answers. Just the gentle whisper of morning breeze across its surface, the distant call of a bird greeting the day.
She’d thought, for just a few brief hours, that she might have found something real here. Something worth fighting for.
Murdock’s arms around her in the forest, his mouth on hers, the way he’d looked at her like she mattered, like she was more than just a pawn in someone else’s game.
But reality had crashed down with brutal efficiency. She was still that pawn. Still a piece to be moved or removed as the players saw fit.
Leona wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite her cloak. Rufus would wake up soon. They needed to leavebefore the council meeting, before she had to face all those judgmental eyes and hear them declare her fate.
Better to make the choice herself, to return to Ragnall with what little dignity she had left.
It would be easier that way. For everyone.
The thought should have brought relief. Instead, it made tears prick her eyes, hot and shameful. She blinked them back, but one escaped anyway, trailing down her cheek to fall into the water below.
“Foolish,” she muttered to herself. “Ye’re a fool, Leona Gilmore. Thinkin' ye could have somethin' different. Somethin' good.”
Another tear fell. Then another. And suddenly she couldn’t stop them, couldn’t hold back the grief and fear and desperate longing for what might have been.
Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, her hands pressed to her face as if she could physically hold herself together.
She didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. Didn’t hear the quiet conversation happening on the path behind her. She was lost in her misery, in the crushing weight of everything she was about to lose.
“Da, look! Someone’s at the loch!”
The child’s voice cut through Leona’s grief. She jerked upright, quickly wiping at her face, trying to compose herself. But it was too late, the damage was already done.
“Skye, wait!” It was Murdock’s voice, deeper, tinged with warning.
But the little girl was already running, her small feet pounding down the dock toward Leona.
“What’s wrong? Why are ye sad?” Skye dropped to her knees beside Leona, her dark eyes wide with concern. She was still in her nightdress, a cloak thrown hastily over her shoulders, her hair tangled from sleep.
She looked so young, so earnest, that Leona’s heart clenched.
“I’m fine, lass,” Leona managed, her voice thick. “Just… just thinkin' about things.”
“Ye’re cryin'.” Skye reached out, her small hand touching Leona’s cheek where tears still glistened. “People only cry when they’re sad or hurt. Which one are ye?”
“Skye.” Murdock had reached them now, his expression unreadable in the early morning light. He looked like he hadn’t slept either, his hair disheveled, shadows under his eyes. “Leave the lass be.”
But Skye ignored him, her attention fixed entirely on Leona. “Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”
The innocent offer made Leona’s chest ache.
How did you explain complicated adult problems to a little girl? How did you tell her that sometimes there were no good solutions, only choices between different kinds of pain?
“I have to go somewhere I daenae want to be,” Leona said finally, keeping her voice soft. “And if I daenae go, a bad person will hurt people here. Good people who’ve been kind to me.”
Skye’s face fell, comprehension dawning in her young features. “Is it because of the lie I said?”
“Nay, sweetheart.”
“I told them ye were Da’s betrothed, and now everyone’s angry, and… and…” Skye’s words tumbled over each other, panic rising in her voice. “It’s me fault ye have to go. It’s me fault that the bad person?—”
“It’s nae yer fault,” Leona interrupted firmly, taking the girl’s small hands in her own. “Ye were tryin' to protect yer da, aye? Tryin' to help. That’s a brave thing, Skye. A good thing. The bad man is the one makin' trouble. The man has made the councilmen distrustful of me, nae ye.”
