He almost smiled at that…almost.
“This is exactly why ye are confined tae the grounds,” he said. “MacGregor is testing our reach. Sending ye out is inviting him tae strike.”
“And keeping me idle while people suffer is inviting another kind of loss,” she replied. “Ye speak of responsibility. This is mine.”
He stared at her, anger and admiration tangling in a way he deeply resented.
“Ye think I enjoy refusing ye?” he demanded. “That I take pleasure in this?”
“I think,” she said quietly, “that ye are trying tae protect me from a danger ye understand too well. And I respect that.”
The admission slowed him.
“But I will nae stand aside,” she continued, “when I can help. I ken ye value competence. Please, let me show it.”
The words struck true. He had built his rule on that very principle. Men followed him because he recognized ability where others saw only rank. And damn her, she knew it.
He turned away from her, pacing once across the chamber. The maps blurred at the edges of his vision as other images pressed forward instead. He could hear Fiona’s laughter as it once had been, then the silence that followed it forever.
He stopped and faced Margaret again.
“Ye are asking me tae risk ye,” he told her. “Kenning precisely why I refuse.”
“I am asking ye tae trust me,” she replied. “Just enough.”
Trust.
The word sat uneasily on his tongue. He had learned, long ago, that trust was a luxury paid for in blood.
“I cannae,” he said at last. The admission cost him more than refusal would have. “Nae the way ye mean it.”
She said nothing, but he felt her attention like a steady pressure at his back.
“I willnae send ye out alone,” he continued, forcing the words into order. “Nor will I pretend the danger is less than it is. MacGregor would take ye if he could. Or kill ye simply tae prove he still can.”
“I ken.”
He turned back to face her then. “If ye go, ye dae so under guard.”
She studied him, weighing his words the way she weighed everything, with more sense than pride. At last, she nodded once.
“And I go with ye.”
Her eyes widened before she could stop them.
“That is non-negotiable,” he added. “If there is risk, it will find me first. Ye will follow me word without question. If I say we turn back, we turn back.”
A moment passed. Then another.
“Very well,” she said.
The answer was simple. It should not have unsettled him as much as it did.
“Then it is settled,” Domhnall said, though it felt like anything but. “We go at first light, quietly and with men I trust.”
She inclined her head. “Thank ye.”
He did not answer that. Gratitude had no place here, only consequence.
