“Tae whom?” Cameron asked, clearly stunned to hear this.
Domhnall regarded him, allowing his smile to widen from ear to ear.
“Tae ye, me friend.”
Margaret had never heard a silence so full. Cameron did not speak. He did not step forward, nor did he offer immediate thanks. Instead, he seemed, for a moment, to consider the weight of what had been said not as a gift, but as a responsibility.
“Me laird,” he began, though his voice carried none of its usual certainty, “that is nae?—”
“It is,” Domhnall said, cutting gently across the protest before it could fully form. “The land requires a man who understands it, who will hold it.”
Cameron’s gaze did not waver, and this was the moment when his truly humble nature shone bright.
“There are others?—”
“There are nae, I insisted it must be ye,” Domhnall replied.
There was no force in his tone and no insistence beyond the truth of it. Margaret watched as the meaning of it settled. Cameron drew a breath.
“I… dinnae ken how tae thank ye, me laird,” he said, still struggling to find the right words to express himself.
Domhnall approached him, then clapped him on the shoulder in a sound that broken through the confused silence.
“Ye need nae,” he said. “Ye have already earned it.”
Cameron inclined his head then, not as one receiving favor, but as one acknowledging something given in full measure.
“I willnae fail ye.”
Domhnall gave a slight nod. “I ken that.”
The matter, once spoken, required no further elaboration. It was a closing of what had long remained unsettled, and a beginning not marked by uncertainty, but by choice.
She glanced toward Domhnall. He had not spoken more than was necessary. He rarely did. Now, there was no longer anything withheld between them that required fear.
Cameron did not linger. He offered his thanks once more, more quietly this time, and without the restraint that had marked his earlier composure and then withdrew, leaving them alone in the softened light of the chamber.
The door closed behind him. Margaret remained where she stood, her hand still resting lightly upon the back of the chair, as though the moment had not yet fully settled into certainty. She had watched Cameron go with a quiet satisfaction, pleased not only for him, but for the ease with which the decision had been made.
It felt…right.
She turned slightly, intending to speak, though she did not yet know what she would say, when she became aware of Domhnall behind her. She did not move away. His presence had long since ceased to startle her. His arms came about her waist without haste, but with unmistakable intent, drawing her gently back against him. The quiet assurance of that simple gesture grounded her more completely than any words might have done.
“Ye look pleased,” he pointed out with a grin.
It was not a question. Margaret allowed herself the smallest smile.
“I am,” she replied. “Though I suspect Cameron is rather more so.”
“Aye,” Domhnall said, his tone carrying the faintest trace of amusement. “He hides it poorly.”
Margaret laughed softly.
“That is because he daesnae expect such things tae be given tae him.”
“Nor should he,” Domhnall returned. “They are nae given.”
She tilted her head slightly, glancing back at him.
