He slammed the doors open so hard they struck stone.
Filib jolted upright from the table, with the quill still in his hand. “Laird? What is?—”
Baird crossed the room in three strides, seized the man by the front of his robes, and slammed him back against the table. Papers scattered like startled birds.
Filib gasped, while his face was going white. “Me laird!”
“Ye murdered me braither.”
A collective gasp surged through the chamber.
Filib sputtered, shaking his head rapidly. “What? Nay, nay, I?—”
Baird slammed him again, harder. “Ye poisoned Malcolm!”
That was when chaos erupted. Council members stumbled backward. Guards rushed forward. Kenny barked orders, trying to maintain order.
Filib clawed at Baird’s wrist, with his panic rising like bile. “Ye’ve lost yer senses!”
“I’ve found the truth,” Baird snarled.
Filib’s eyes darted wildly. “This is madness!”
“Madness?” Baird snarled, slamming him against the table again. “Tell me, Filib, what’s madder than poisoning me braither at his own wedding? Than selling out yer clan tae the Sinclairs like a coward?”
“I—” Filib choked, his gaze cutting around the room at the crowd forming, the guards, the servants, the councilmen. His voice cracked. “Ihadtae dae it.”
The hall erupted into shocked murmurs. Baird froze for only a heartbeat before his rage surged anew.
“Had tae?” he roared. “Yehadtae?!”
Filib’s legs buckled under Baird’s grip. “Aye! Aye, I… there was nay other way!”
Kenny stepped closer. “Filib, think very carefully before ye speak another word.”
But Filib spoke anyway. He spoke because terror had flooded past caution.
“I loved her,” he gasped.
Baird’s hands tightened. “Loved who?”
“Yer maither!” Filib sobbed. “I loved her! Long before yer faither claimed her. I would’ve given her a gentler life, ye ken I would’ve! She’d still be alive if she’d chosen me!”
A stunned silence ripped through the hall. Baird’s blood ran cold. Understanding sparked in his eyes.
Filib went on, desperate and unhinged. “It was Malcolm’s fault that she died! She, who most deserved tae live, died at the hands of those who supposedly loved her… I couldnae bear it! If only she had chosen me…”
Baird’s muscles trembled with murderous restraint.
Filib’s voice cracked as he pressed on. “And the Sinclairs… they gave me coin, but I would have done it fer free…”
Baird stared at him with a stillness that made Kenny tense beside him. “So ye killed me braither.”
Filib squeezed his eyes shut. “There was nay other way. Yer faither was already gone, but the memory of yer maither was nae avenged, nae fer me. Ye… ye were always too strong, too…stubborn. So, I took Malcolm, because in taking him, I took me revenge. Now, ye ken what it is like tae lose everything ye’ve ever cared fer.”
The hall gasped. Someone cursed loudly. Kenny stepped forward.
“Filib,” he said fiercely, “ye’re confessing tae treason and murder?—”
