“Why did ye think he would never wed?” asked Elayne.
“Well, we always thought he was incapable o’ jestin’,” said Dunn. “He’s a very serious man. Too serious, in fact.”
“Very much unlike ye?”
“Very much so.”
“An’ Bran an’ Evander?” asked Elayne.
“Bran was like a father to us all when we were bairns,” Dunn said, his smile turning warm and fond. “An’ now he is married tae his best friend, so I would say everythin’ went well fer him. Evander, like I told ye, is engaged, but that is all politics, unfortunately. I can only hope he an’ his wife will have a happy marriage.”
“It must be nice tae have such a big family,” Elayne said with a wistful sigh as she perched herself on the edge of the mattress. “I never had that. It was always me an’ me parents, an’ after me mother’s death… well, I hardly ever saw me faither at all.”
She wouldn’t have wanted to see him anyway, not with how merciless he was. Every day she had spent with him after her mother’s death had been torture and she would often try to avoid him for as long as she could, pretending to be ill or busy.
“It must have been lonely,” Dunn said as he came to sit next to her. Once again, as they tended to do now, he kept his distance, sitting at the other end of the bed. Elayne didn’t know if she was thankful for it or if she would rather feel the warmth, the tenderness of his touch, consequences be damned.
“It was,” she said. “It still is.”
Without Isobel, she didn’t know what she would have done. Any time Isobel was too busy to be with her, Elayne had spent her days in her chambers or in the library, shutting herself off from the world, lost in a book for hours. It’s why she loved visiting her aunt so much. With her, not only did she have company, but she could also be away from her father.
Silently, Dunn reached over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was more comforting than any words could ever be, and Elayne leaned into it, allowing herself a moment of weakness.
It occurred to her suddenly that with Dunn there, she had yet to feel lonely. She wondered what would happen once their ways parted. She wondered if she would be just as lonely as before, with no one to turn to.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The room was dark when Dunn opened his eyes. Even as he blinked, trying to adjust to what little light the embers of the fire provided, he could make out nothing but shadows and shapes—and Elayne next to him, closer than when they had fallen asleep.
It kept happening those days, waking up with her in his arms, but Dunn didn’t want to question it. It was only natural for two people sharing a bed to gravitate towards each other, to end up in each other’s space, and if his sleep-addled brain guided him to press a soft kiss to her forehead, then no one had to know.
Slowly, so as not to wake her, Dunn slid out of the bed. Since Elayne was so insistent that they wear clothes to bed, all he had to do was pull on his boots and grab his knife before he left the room quietly and snuck through the corridors of the castle in search of Laird Macgillivray’s study. It was the perfect time to seek information, as he had come to learn that the laird never stayed in his study past dinner, preferring to retire to his chambers instead.
It was only the guards Dunn had to worry about, but as he walked, he only encountered one pair of them. He was quick to duck into an alcove just as they turned around the corner, narrowly missing them, and only continued his march when the footsteps had receded far down the hallway.
He found the laird’s study easily, retracing the steps he had taken the last time he had been there. Laird Macgillivray had only invited him to his study once, but it had been enough for Dunn to remember the way. He had made sure to pay attention.
When he tried the doorknob, he expected to find the door locked, but it gave under his hand. Perhaps Laird Macgillivray wasn’t very concerned with others looking through his plans and his papers, so confident was he in the loyalty of his men. Stepping inside, Dunn found the room completely dark, so he grabbed two candles from the desk, lighting them with the torch that hung in the hallway outside. Then, he placed them gingerly on the desk and began his task.
Laird Macgillivray’s desk was a mess of papers, pages strewn all over its surface. It seemed as though it had been left like that, forgotten entirely after a meeting, but Dunn was still careful to disturb the papers as little as possible. For all he knew, Laird Macgillivray knew precisely where he had left everything and any disruption to the piles would arouse his suspicion.
Thumbing through the papers, Dunn soon realized the rumors were true. There were war plans, strategies, and resource reports, all of them proving to him that Laird Macgillivray wasindeed preparing to go to war. He had neither the time nor the light to read carefully, but all the signs were there.
Paper… I need paper.
He had to copy at least the most important details. Perhaps he would have the chance to return another night and finish his work, but for now, he had to write down the laird’s most important plans and the names of the clans who would be involved in this war. If Dunn and his clan could get to them first, if they could talk some sense into them or form an alliance, then perhaps they could avoid this.
Just as he opened the drawer to look for a spare piece of paper, though, the door opened, and a pair of eyes looked at him in the dark.
Dunn’s hand reached for his blade on instinct, but an altercation would be hardly an ideal solution. Even if no one heard them, even if he managed to kill the other, then he would have no place to get rid of the body without anyone noticing. Still, what other choice did he have?
He had been caught.
Stepping inside the room, the man revealed himself to be none other than Blaine. Dunn cursed quietly under his breath. Not only was Blaine a formidable opponent, one who would surely put up a difficult fight, but Dunn had also come to like the man. He wouldn’t call him friendly, not exactly, but at least he wasn’t hostile to him like the two lairds.
“It’s late tae be out o’ yer chambers,” said Blaine casually, as if he hadn’t just caught Dunn looking through his laird’s plans. “What are ye doin’ here, Dunn?”
Dunn had three options. One of them was to lie, but what could he possibly say that would explain all this? There was no lie plausible enough to save him. Another option would be to fight, though he wanted to avoid that more than anything. It was bound to draw more attention to him and if he was going to die, he would rather die by a blade than a rope. The last option was the only option he truly had.
