As Duncan and the others dragged the prisoners away, Alpin finally allowed himself to turn toward where Mhairi stood with Donnach. Her face was pale, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
But she was standing steady. Not collapsed, not hysterical. Just watching him with those grey eyes that saw too much.
"Are ye hurt?" he asked, crossing to her.
"Nay." Her voice was remarkably calm. "They didnae have time tae dae more than grab me arm."
Alpin's jaw tightened. Even that was too much. "Let me see."
She extended her arm without argument. There were red marks where the scarred man's fingers had dug in, but no broken skin. The sight of those marks made Alpin's vision blur with rage.
"I'm fine," Mhairi said, seeming to sense his fury. "Really. Ye stopped them before––"
"They shouldnae have gotten close enough tae touch ye." Alpin forced himself to release her arm gently. "The guards should've been watchin' more carefully. Should've noticed them sooner."
"Ye were here. That's what matters." Mhairi's voice softened. "If ye hadnae been..."
She didn't finish, but she didn't need to.
They both knew exactly what would've happened if Alpin hadn't been in the village. If he hadn't seen the fake soldiers approaching. If he'd stayed at the castle like he'd originally planned.
"Come." Alpin gestured toward the village center where a low stone wall provided seating. "Sit with me fer a moment. Let yerself breathe."
Mhairi allowed him to guide her to the wall. They sat side by side, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. Around them, village life was slowly resuming, the brief excitement over, people returning to their tasks.
But Alpin could feel Mhairi shaking beside him.
"It's the fear leavin'," he said quietly. "After battle, after danger passes, the body finally allows itself to react. Let it happen. Dinnae fight it."
"I'm nae weak." The words came out fierce despite the tremor in her voice.
"I ken. Ye're the strongest person I've ever met." Alpin shifted slightly closer, offering silent support without caging her in. "But even the strongest need to let themselves feel afraid sometimes."
They sat in silence for a while. Gradually, Mhairi's shaking eased. Her breathing steadied. The color returned to her cheeks.
Children's laughter drifted from a nearby cottage yard where a group of them were playing some complicated game involving sticks and a leather ball.
"They're so carefree," Mhairi observed, watching them. "So innocent."
"Aye. That's how it should be." Alpin followed her gaze. "That's what we're protectin'. Their right tae be children without fear."
"Is that what ye think about? When ye make decisions as laird?"
"Always." He watched as one child tackled another, both tumbling into the dirt with peals of laughter. "Every choice I make affects them. Their futures. Their safety. It's a weight that never leaves."
Mhairi was quiet for a moment. Then: "Ye're good at it. Bein' laird. The way yer men respond tae ye, the way the villagers look at ye, they trust ye completely."
"They trust that I'll dae what's right. Daesnae always mean they agree with me decisions."
"But they follow anyway."
"Aye. Because even when they disagree, they ken I'm actin' in their best interests." Alpin turned to look at her. "That's the difference between a laird and a tyrant. A tyrant demands obedience. A laird earns trust."
Before Mhairi could respond, the group of children suddenly erupted into loud argument.
Their game had apparently reached some kind of impasse, with half the group shouting one thing and the other half insisting on something completely different.
"That's nae fair!"
