Steel rang as fists struck breastplates. Voices rose together, rough and resolute.
“Aye!”
The sound filled the chamber, carrying with it more than readiness. It carried loyalty. Baird left the war room with his orders given and his purpose fixed, with the echo of his men’s voices still ringing in his ears. The moment he stepped into the courtyard, he saw Davina near the center, directing the flow of people with calm efficiency.
Blankets were being handed out in careful bundles, and baskets of bread passed along lines of waiting hands. Children clung to skirts, soldiers leaned wearily against walls, and through it all her voice carried without hesitation.
Baird went to her without ceremony and lifted two heavy bundles of blankets from a cart before she could reach them herself.
“Those go tae the great hall,” she said automatically, then looked up and smiled when she realized it was him. “Thank ye.”
“Show me,” he replied.
Together they hauled the bundles toward the doors, their shoulders brushing as they walked. People stepped aside for them, murmuring thanks, and nodding in recognition, not only of their laird, but of the lady beside him who had somehow made fear manageable.
Inside the great hall, the transformation was already underway. Straw had been laid, fires were banked, and space was claimed with quiet cooperation rather than argument. Baird set the blankets down where Davina indicated, then reached for another load without being asked.
For a brief moment, amid the movement and murmurs, their eyes met. No words passed between them. None were needed. It was a shared understanding of responsibility, worry and resolve. They were two leaders carrying the same weight from different ends, meeting in the middle.
Baird reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair back from her face.
“Ye’re doing more good than ye ken,” he said quietly.
She looked back at him with that adoring smile. “So are ye.”
He shook his head faintly. “I give orders. Ye give courage.”
Her lips curved. “Then let us keep doing both.”
He nodded once, already lifting another bundle. Around them, the keep was still breathing. It was crowded and weary, but alive. And as Baird worked beside her, he knew with absolute certainty that whatever the Sinclairs brought to their gates, they would not find a house divided.
They would find one that stood together.
It was only when the light began to thin into evening that Davina realized she had not seen Baird in hours.
The keep was quieter now. It was far from silent, but it felt somehow settled. Children slept wrapped in borrowed blankets. Fires burned low and steady. Guards stood at their posts. For the first time since dawn, there was nothing immediate demanding her hands or her voice.
And Baird was not there. His absence tugged at her.
She wiped her hands on her skirts and crossed the courtyard, searching the faces, half-expecting to spot him among the men. When she did not, she stopped beside a guard near the stairwell.
“Have ye seen the laird?” she asked.
The man straightened at once. “Aye, me lady. He’s been at the battlements since late afternoon.”
“Thank ye.”
She did not hesitate. The climb was long along the stone steps which were worn smooth beneath her boots. As she ascended, the sounds of the keep fell away. Now, they were replaced by wind and the distant calls of sentries. The air grew cooler, carrying the scent of rain and iron. She emerged onto the battlements just as the sun dipped low, bleeding gold and crimson across the hills beyond the walls.
Baird stood near the edge, with his hands resting on the stone. His broad frame was outlined against the fading light. He was very still, as though the land itself had claimed him for a moment.
Davina paused, watching him. Here, stripped of command and crowd, he looked solitary again… not lonely, but still burdened, the laird who bore responsibility like armor, even when no one was watching.
“Ye will catch a chill if ye linger too long,” she said gently, stepping closer.
He turned at once. Relief flickered across his face before he could hide it. “I didnae hear ye.”
“That is rare,” she replied with a faint smile.
