Connor beamed, and although he seemed exhausted, he was also proud. “The castle’s safe,” he added, as if offering proof. “We’re safe.”
That was when Baird reached for Connor, wincing despite himself. “Ye did well today,” he patted the boy on the shoulder. “Helping others. That matters.”
Connor nodded fiercely. “I’ll keep daeing it. Like ye.”
“I ken ye will.”
Baird looked at Davina.
Mrs. MacLeod smiled at them both. “Go on,” she spoke kindly. “Yer people are held. Yer walls are standing. And yer wife has earned her husband’s arms.”
Davina felt her eyes sting. She slipped her arm around Baird’s waist. This time, he leaned into her without protest.
“All right,” he said quietly.
And together, with the gratitude of a child and an old woman warming the air behind them, they turned toward the stairs.
The chamber was quiet in a way that felt almost unreal after the roar of battle.
Baird was seated on the edge of the bed. His bloodied and torn shirt was discarded, the lamplight tracing the hard lines of his shoulders and the fresh bandage wrapped around his side. Davina knelt before him with a bowl of water and clean cloths.
“Tell me if it hurts,” she murmured.
“It already daes,” he replied faintly. “But I’ve survived worse.”
She shot him a look that brooked no levity. He fell silent at once.
Davina dabbed gently at the wound, cleaning away the last traces of blood with hands that trembled only slightly. Up close, the reality of it pressed in on her. She could see the depth of the cut, the way it could so easily have been worse.
Her throat tightened.
“Baird,” she said softly.
He looked down at her at once. “What is it?”
She swallowed. “Thank ye… fer saving me… again.”
The words felt small compared to what she meant, but they were all she had. In response, he reached for her hand, closing hisfingers around it with surprising gentleness for a man who had just fought a war.
“There was never a choice,” he said simply. “I will always be there tae save ye. Nay matter the cost.”
Davina lifted her head slowly. Now, he held her hand pressed to his chest, and she could feel the solid proof of him beneath her palm. “That cost… it terrifies me.”
His thumb brushed over her knuckles. “It reminds me why I stand at all.”
In the lamplight, his face was stripped bare. He wore no armor and gave no command. Now, he was simply the man she had come to know through fear and fire.
“Dae ye remember,” she asked quietly, “our wedding day? How little we knew of one another?”
“Aye,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “I thought duty would be enough.”
“And I thought resolve would carry me through,” she replied. “I did nae expect… this.”
He nodded. “Nor did I.”
Silence settled around them, and every inch of it was filled with a memory. The chapel. The blood on stone. The knife at her throat. The bath, the stars, the battlements. The moment she had screamed his name and trusted he would hear.
“We survived so much,” Davina whispered. “Taegether.”
