“Baird!” she called out to him.
Her voice barely carried over the clash of steel, but he heard it all the same. He turned sharply, and she could see sweat darkening his hair. Even his shirt was clinging to his body as though someone had poured water on him. The yard was torn and trampled, and the men were moving in exhausted rotations. Davina crossed the remaining distance with determined steps.
“Ye should stop,” she said, close enough now that he could not pretend not to hear her.
“Later,” he replied automatically and then barked another order at the men, pushing them harder still.
She waited until the drill broke at last, until the men staggered back, gulping water. Then she placed a hand against his arm.
“Baird,” she said again, more quietly. “Ye will exhaust yerself before the Sinclairs ever reach our gates.”
He looked at her then, and she saw how far he had already pushed himself. There was iron in his posture, but strain, too, pulled tight beneath discipline.
“They need tae be ready,” he said. “If I slow?—”
“If ye break,” she interrupted softly, “they lose their laird.”
His jaw tightened. “I can endure more than this.”
“I ken ye can,” Davina said. “That daesnae mean ye must.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Every moment we waste?—”
“—is nae wasted if it keeps ye standing,” she interrupted him again. “Ye have been training since dawn. Ye have nae eaten since before then. And ye are nay use tae anyone if ye or yer men collapse in two days’ time.”
He hesitated, and the battle between instinct and reason was plain on his face.
She softened her tone. “Let them rest. Letyerselfrest, just fer a little while.”
The wind stirred the banners above them. Somewhere in the yard a man laughed weakly. At last, Baird exhaled.
Davina felt it more than she heard it. It was in the way the tension left him in a long, reluctant breath, as though he had been holding himself together by force alone. He turned slightly, no longer the laird in command, but the man she knew beneath the weight of it all.
“How dae ye dae that?” he asked quietly.
She blinked. “Dae what?”
“Make me listen,” he said. He tried to smile, but he somehow couldn’t. Still, she appreciated the effort. “I have men twice me size who have nae managed it in years.”
Her fingers were still curled lightly around his arm. She did not move them. “Perhaps ye are simply sensible enough tae hear me.”
He snorted softly. “That is nae it.” He was still looking at her. “How is it that when ye speak, the noise quiets?”
The words caught her unprepared. For a heartbeat, the answer rose sharp and bright in her chest, pressing at her throat.
Because I love ye.
The truth startled her with its certainty. Davina swallowed.
“Because I ken ye,” she said instead. She could feel the onslaught of emotion prickling just underneath the surface of her skin, but she managed to control it. “I ken yer strengths, yer fears. I ken when ye push too hard, and when ye need someone tae stand in front of ye and sayenough.”
His gaze did not leave her face. “Most people see only the laird.”
“That is their loss,” she replied softly.
He reached up without thinking, his hand brushing her wrist.
“Ye should rest too,” he said.
