Three weeks out, the paperwork was largely done.
The guardianship was formalized. The estate in William’s name, including a rented property in the south and a substantial amount of debt, had been settled. Noah had paid the debt, which he did not resent, and released the property, which he did not mourn.
It was over.
The castle felt different.
He noticed it the way he noticed things, without making much of it, just filing it away as fact. Lighter. As if something that had been requiring constant low-level maintenance had simply stopped needing it.
He slept without the particular vigilance he hadn’t realised he’d been carrying.
He woke up in the mornings, and the first thing he thought about was not the border dispute or the accounts or William’s last known position. More often than not, it was Ava.
He was getting married.
He was still slightly surprised by this, in the way of a man who had wanted something for long enough that when it happened, he kept expecting it to be taken back.
It hadn’t been taken back.
Every morning, it remained simply true, settled and real, waiting for him at breakfast with her hair pinned up, her green eyes calm, and that particular expression she wore when she had already thought through most of the day before it had properly begun.
He had decided to find this reassuring rather than terrifying. He was mostly succeeding.
Elliot arrived on a Thursday morning with reports from the eastern boundary and the look of a man who had something he wanted to say and was deciding how to say it.
Noah let him deliver the reports first.
“All clear,” Elliot said, folding the last one. “MacAllister’s men passed through last week, no trouble. And the granary count came in; we’re up from last harvest, so it should carry us until spring with plenty to spare.”
“Good.” Noah made a note.
Elliot did not leave.
Noah looked up. “Say it.”
“I wasnae goin’ to say anythin’.”
“Ye’ve been hoverin’ for ten minutes. Say it.”
Elliot sat down without being invited, which was a habit Noah had given up trying to correct fifteen years ago. “I heard there’s to be a handfastin’.”
“There is.”
“A specific handfastin’.”
“Elliot.”
“I’m just confirmin’ the details.” He leaned back in the chair with the air of a man settling in comfortably. “So... Ava. Ye’re marryin’ the lass who arrived on our land few weeks ago with nay horse, nay family, and a child that wasnae hers.”
“I’m marryin’ the woman who arrived on our land a few weeks ago and made Esther laugh for the first time in two years,” Noah said. “Aye.”
Elliot was quiet for a moment. “Good.”
“Good?”
“I said good.” He met Noah’s eyes. “She’s the right woman for ye. She doesnae let ye get away with anythin’. She’s smart, and she’s honest, and she loves that bairn as if she birthed her herself.” A pause. “And she makes ye less of a terror to be around, which is appreciated by everyone in this castle.”
Noah looked at him. “Are ye finished?”
