The words settled quietly and naturally, as though they had always been meant to include her. Elaina forced her hands to move again, grinding the herbs with steady precision, though her thoughts had already begun to shift.
“We could take supplies with us,” Catriona went on, warming to the idea. “Nae just what we gather, but what we prepare here. It would be far more useful that way.”
She glanced up then, with a small, hopeful smile forming.
“It would be good, would it nae? Tae help beyond the castle as well?”
Elaina met her gaze. For a moment, she could not answer, because there was no hesitation in Catriona’s voice and no question whether Elaina would be there. Catriona had simply placed her in this future, without asking, as though Elaina belonged there.
She had not even realized how easily it had happened, how quietly she had been folded into that life, into these moments, into something that felt steady and real.
“Aye,” she replied tenderly. “It would be.”
Catriona’s smile widened, pleased. “I thought so.”
She returned to her work, content, her movements lighter now, as though the future she had just spoken of had already begun to take shape. The steady rhythm she had kept without thought faltered, the pestle pressing more lightly against the herbs, but the motion was losing its certainty. The scent of lavender still rose around her, familiar and calming, but it no longer reached her the same way.
Each word Catriona had spoken lingered in her mind, not as simple conversation, but as something that reached forward beyond that moment, beyond that day, into a future Elaina had never allowed herself to consider. It was a future where she stayed, where she belonged, where she was not looking over her shoulder, not running and not preparing to leave before she had even begun to settle.
Her chest tightened. She wanted it. The realization came quietly, but it struck deeper than anything else had. She wanted it: the work, the purpose, the quiet, steady companionship and the warmth that had begun to feel like something she could trust.
She wantedhim.
Her fingers tightened slightly. She could not have it. The thought followed just as quickly, just as firmly, because wanting it did not make it safe. It did not make it hers.
Her movements slowed further, until the sound of stone against stone faded almost entirely. Silence slipped into the space between them.
Catriona’s voice trailed off mid-sentence. Elaina had not even realized she had been speaking. It did not go unnoticed.
Catriona stilled, her hands resting lightly over the herbs she had been sorting. Her gaze lifted, focusing on Elaina with a quiet attentiveness that missed very little.
“Ye’ve gone quiet.”
Elaina blinked, as if pulled from somewhere distant.
“I am working,” she replied, though her voice lacked the ease it had held moments before.
Catriona’s brow lifted slightly.
“Aye,” she said softly. “But ye can speak while ye dae so.”
Elaina’s fingers resumed their motion.
“There is naething tae say.”
The answer came too quickly. Catriona watched her for a moment longer. And she did not look away.
“Is there something troubling ye?” she asked gently.
Elaina shook her head lightly, not meeting her gaze this time.
“Nay.”
The lie sat between them. Catriona did not challenge it outright. She did not press harder. But neither did she accept it. Instead, she leaned back slightly, her eyes never leaving Elaina’s face.
“Ye dinnae seem like someone who has naething tae say,” she murmured.
The words settled carefully. Elaina kept her gaze lowered, her fingers resting against the rim of the mortar as though she had simply paused in her work, nothing more.
