Her tone was light, but she watched him closely, curious at the flicker of shadow that crossed his face.
Declan’s expression hardened in an instant, his voice curt and cold. “There will be nay Yule celebration in this keep,” he said flatly. “Nae now, nae ever.”
The finality in his words struck her like a slap, and for a moment, she simply stared at him, unsure she’d heard right.
“Not ever?” she repeated, her brows knitting together. “But why, Declan? Surely it would lift the spirits of the clan. We could invite Norah and her bairns; ye ken how they’d delight in the songs and the feast.”
She gave a small, hopeful smile, trying to warm the sharpness from his tone.
Declan’s eyes darkened, his jaw set like stone. “I said nay, Isabelle,” he replied sharply. “The matter’s closed. There’ll be nay Yule here.”
His voice carried that deep, commanding edge that always seemed to end arguments before they began, but Isabelle was not so easily silenced this time.
Her heart quickened, frustration rising to meet his chill. “And why nae? What harm could there be in a bit of joy and laughter? The folk of this castle follow ye without question, but theydeserve some happiness.” Her tone was firmer now, the faint tremor of defiance breaking through.
Declan’s gaze snapped to hers, fierce and unyielding. “It’s none of yer concern, lass,” he said, his voice low but edged with warning. “There are reasons, and that’s all ye need to ken.”
He turned away, as though the matter were beneath further discussion, but Isabelle wasn’t ready to yield.
She took a step closer, her voice rising. “Reasons? That’s nae enough, Declan! I’m yer wife, I’ve a right to ken why ye forbid somethin’ that brings light into this dark place.” Her hands trembled, though not with fear but with mounting anger and hurt.
He turned back sharply, eyes flashing. “Ye have no such right when it comes to matters I choose to keep me own,” he growled. “Ye’re the Lady of this keep, aye, but I’m the Laird, and ye’ll do as I say.” His tone was hard, the authority in it absolute, and yet it only made her temper flare hotter.
“Do as ye say?” she repeated, incredulous. “So that’s what this marriage is to ye, then? Orders and obedience?” Her voice cracked slightly, but she refused to back down.
Declan’s nostrils flared, his voice low and dangerous. “Mind yerself, Isabelle. I’ll nae be spoken to like that under me own roof.”
He stepped closer, towering over her, but she stood her ground, chin lifted in defiance.
“I’ll speak as I please when me husband treats me like a child,” she retorted hotly. “Ye think I’ll just bow me head and smile while ye shut me out? Ye can command the guards, the servants, the whole of the clan, but ye’ll nae command me into silence!” Her voice trembled with passion, her face flushed with fury and pain.
Declan’s eyes burned with restrained fury. “Ye forget who ye’re speakin’ to,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m the Laird of this clan, and what I say stands. Ye dinnae need a reason, Isabelle. Ye only need to obey.” His tone was sharp, cutting through the air like a whip.
Her heart pounded, and she stared at him as if seeing him anew. “Obey?” she repeated softly, disbelief and hurt mingling in her voice. He might have told her that she was expected to obey him at their wedding, but his behavior after that made her think he didn’t really mean it. She couldn’t help but feel betrayed. “Ye would have me live like some meek lass who’s nae allowed to ask a question? I thought better of ye, Declan.”
Her voice was quieter now, but it carried a deep ache that no anger could hide.
He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, but his eyes remained hard. “Ye’re twistin’ me words yet again,” he said. “I protect this clan, Isabelle. There are things in the past better left buried, and Yule is one of them. I’ll nae say more on it.”
His tone softened slightly, but the walls around him remained unyielding.
Isabelle shook her head, her breath trembling. “Ye shut me out and expect me to smile like naught’s amiss,” she said, her voice breaking. “I came here wantin’ to build a life with ye, Declan, to share in the good and the bad, but how can I when ye keep me at a distance?”
Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
“Enough, Isabelle,” he said softly but firmly. “This discussion’s done.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her lips trembling. Then, without another word, she turned and walked toward the door, her steps slow but steady.
Isabelle stormed through the corridors, her skirts swishing furiously with each step. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of anger and humiliation burning hot beneath her skin.
Once again, she felt dismissed, pushed aside as though her thoughts and feelings meant naught. It was just like her father all over again, silencing her, deciding what mattered and what did not.
She pushed open the heavy doors of the castle and stepped out into the cold courtyard. The wind nipped at her cheeks, but she barely noticed, too lost in her turmoil.
“Obey,” she muttered bitterly under her breath, pacing across the stones. “I’ll obey when the sky turns green. Thinks himself some kind of god, that one.”
Her voice trembled as she went on, more to herself than to anyone who might have heard.
