“Nay, I daenae think that we need to worry about it. Our defenses are stronger than they’ve ever been, and our numbers are even larger now,” Liam replied, nodding at a servant as they passed by. “But I’m nae goin’ to let me guard down.”
He’d been studying politics and warfare long enough to know that a strike would occur when they least expected it. The moment his guard slipped would be the moment the Pirate Laird would exploit the weakness. His men would stay constantly prepared for a siege, even if the invasion never happened.
“None of them will, either,” Cillian said, clapping a hand over Liam’s shoulder for a brief moment. It was a wordless show of support, a type of empathy that was surely meant to soften Liam’s worry. “I’m goin’ to rest for a bit before supper. Ye should as well. Ye’ve been workin’ late in yer study.”
“Ye only ken that because ye arenae gettin’ enough sleep, either,” Liam said, shrugging his man-at-arms’s hand away. “And I may. But I’m on me way to check on Lady Agnes.”
“How has she been recoverin’?” Cillian asked at the junction where they’d part. “Last I saw, her limp hadnae gone away.”
“She says she’s doin’ well, but I think she’s just sayin’ it so nay one will worry,” he said, ignoring the way that his insides chilled. More and more often, there was a pit in his stomach when he thought of his grandmother’s health. Her body seemed unable to cope with the fall, and even before the auction, she’d slowed down significantly. “She’s nae left her chambers for the last week.”
Cillian nodded, his jaw tightening. Lady Agnes meant something to him, too. The woman had guided him through his teenage years the same way she had done for Liam. “Send her me well wishes, then. I will stop by and visit her later this evenin’. Perhaps I’ll see if she’d like some company while she takes her meal.”
“She’d like that, I’m sure,” Liam said, no other words feeling appropriate for the situation.
For a beat, the two stood in solemn silence. It was as close to an acknowledgment of their shared emotions as the two would allow. Then, he turned and marched up the stairs. It didn’t take long for him to arrive at his grandmother’s door.
Several years ago, when it became obvious that her health would only decline, they’d moved her chambers next to the healer’s. It had pained him to allow the relocation. The healer’s room was too near to the public areas of the castle. It was difficult to defend in the case of invaders. He’d only relented when the healer reminded him that they were the least likely to be targeted, even by savages.
Lady Agnes’s door was slightly open, and as he pushed it further, he heard a burst of laughter. Furrowing his brow, he stepped into the room. Though he’d sent his daughter here, he hadn’t expected Katherine to have joined her. They were supposed to be having a lesson, not playing around. His confusion only grew when he saw that Lady Agnes’s bed was covered with curtains.
Nay, those arenae curtains. Those are the linens that Katherine had earlier.
“What’s goin’ on in here?” he demanded, his confusion twisting into irritation.
As soon as he spoke, the chatter ceased. There was a frantic whisper, something that he couldn’t make out, the speaker a mystery to him. Then, Katherine’s head emerged from between the sheets. The smile on her face flickered slightly when she saw him, but her radiance was stronger.
“We’re campin’ indoors,” his daughter replied from where she was hidden, sounding lighter than normal. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was giggling.
“Is Lady Agnes in there? Are the two of ye botherin’ her?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d fought wars, yet he was unsure of how to handle this situation. “Leave her be.”
“I am here,” his grandmother said. Even her voice had a breathless, exuberant quality. “Katherine, would ye pull back the tent flap for me, please?”
A beat passed, then one of the sheets was moved aside. Lady Agnes was sitting against the headboard, his daughter tucked against her side. The book of tales that his late wife left behind sat on the girl’s lap. His grandmother looked more pleased than a cat in a sunbeam.
“I’m plenty old enough to speak up when I’m nae comfortable or need to rest,” she said, chastising him in a way that made Agnes cover her mouth to hide a giggle. “We already told ye that we were campin’ indoors. We’ve been workin’ on Agnes’s readin’.”
The three of them are conspirin’ against me. There’s nay other explanation for what’s happenin’ here.
“She’s pickin’ it up very well,” Katherine said, shifting away from the edge of the mattress, her hands resting on her knees. She was much more reserved now than she had been when they parted. “I can tell she’s practicin’ on her own.”
“Readin’ is fun,” Agnes huffed. “I like bein’ able to read the stories on me own.”
“It is fun,” Lady Agnes said with a nod, clearly proud of her great-granddaughter’s development. She turned her attention back to Liam. For a beat, she studied him, a mischievous glint in her wise eyes. “Ye look quite sour, Liam. Perhaps ye should join us in here.”
“I already invited him,” Katherine sighed with a playful pout. He resented how charming she was. It made it difficult for him to carry on being angry with her. “He said that he’s much too busy.”
“That’s because I am,” Liam said, his frown deepening at their flippancy. “Nay all of us can spend our days playin’ around. Who do ye think is makin’ it possible for ye to lie about?”
“Ye’ve always carried far too much on yer shoulders, Liam,” Lady Agnes said gently. Her playfulness faded a bit. “Even as a bairn.”
“Duty is important though, is it nae?” Little Agnes asked, looking between Liam and his grandmother.
“It is,” Katherine said, smiling over at the girl. “But so is makin’ the most out of each day.”
“She’s correct,” Lady Agnes confirmed as she tucked a strand of Agnes’s fiery red hair behind her ear. “Yer father could do with rememberin’ that.”
“I didnae come here for commentary,” he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
