A smile spread across Katherine’s face. To hide her excitement about the development, she shoveled a bite of neeps into her mouth. It wasn’t until Agnes cleared her throat pointedly that Katherine lifted her eyes from her plate.
“Now that ye’re back, I have a request,” she said, setting her fork aside. As diplomatically as she could, she said, “Agnes’ lessons have been comin’ along quite well though I daenae ken if she can truly be a cultured woman if her education solely takes place within the castle. I thought that perhaps she and I could take Brimstone to the sea for a day, so I can?—”
“Nay,” Liam said sharply, abruptly cutting her off. There was a kind of anger that was so deep it must have been hiding another emotion, something much more fragile. “Nay, ye willnae be goin’ to sea. Neither of ye will.” He put his own utensil down, turningto face her properly with a controlling, almost violent fire in his eyes.
“The two of us would be incredibly careful,” Katherine countered, only pushing forward because she knew how badly Agnes wanted to go. It took everything within her to keep from sinking away from him. She wouldn’t, though, not when Agnes had asked this of her. “And I’m a strong swimmer. There wouldnae be anythin’ for ye to worry about.”
“I forbid it,” he barked, his body seeming to get larger and more imposing. No longer were they having a quiet conversation, but instead a potential shouting match. “I forbid both of ye from ever goin’ to the sea. Ever.”
The last word ricocheted off the walls, echoing as the entire hall fell silent. From her side of the table, Agnes ducked her head. Katherine felt frozen, unsure whether it was safe to even breathe.
Perhaps I shouldnae have pressed him so hard.
For several beats, the room was so quiet that a pin drop could be heard. The residents shifted, the fabric of their clothing rustling in the tense silence. Then, slowly, the whispered conversations resumed. Liam went back to eating, his back stiff, his movements deliberate.
He didn’t look at her at all. In fact, he only looked at his plate and a distant spot. Katherine’s appetite vanished completely, and thesick feeling of having done something wrong but not knowing what made her stomach churn.
Her hand trembling, Katherine grabbed her fork again. She felt scolded and embarrassed for speaking up. The topic was effectively closed, so, tightening her grip on the silverware, she forced herself to eat as if nothing had happened.
What is it with Liam and the sea? And why will he nae tell me what I should be so worried about?
* * *
Liam was already half awake, his sleep fitful, when a firm knock came. He was up in an instant, his feet hitting the cold stone of his floor and shocking his system into full alertness. Even before answering the door, he knew that the news wouldn’t be good.
The air has felt wrong for weeks.
Ever since he saw the rusted fork, a foreboding sense of dread had lingered over him, growing sharper hour by hour. He’d done everything he could to prepare the land and strengthen the castle, but some things couldn’t be prevented. When he saw the servant standing in the corridor, he knew that this was one of those moments.
“Lady Agnes has requested yer presence,” the man said, his voice carefully controlled. Liam heard the urgency in the clipped nature of his speech, though.
Is she still well enough to have made the request?
He nodded and dismissed the servant with a wave of his hand as he stepped past him. Moving as quickly as he could without breaking into a run, Liam went straight to his grandmother’s room. He passed two somber-looking maids along the way. When the healer’s assistant met his eye as they rounded the corner, there was a tenderness there that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
I daenae need their pity nor sympathy.
His grandmother’s door was wide open, and as he stepped inside, the sinking feeling in his chest was vindicated. Lying amongst her pillows, she looked smaller than he’d ever seen her before. She was completely still, her chest rising and falling shallowly.
And it’s fadin’...
Liam shut her door behind him more gently than he ever had in his life, crossing the room in several long strides. Kicking the armchair away from the edge of the mattress, he kneeled there. He gathered her frail hand in his large grip, so careful not to squeeze too hard for fear of breaking her.
“Grandmother,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Ye sent for me.”
“I daenae have much time left,” she said, thin and brittle. It sounded as if it took nearly all of the strength she had left.
She took a long, labored breath. Then, as she exhaled, she coughed, the sound rattling her chest. Liam’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. There was no denying it, and she wouldn’t let him offer false platitudes. The only thing he could do was listen. She had called him here for a reason.
Her eyes were soft, tired, the wisdom of all the years she’d lived even more apparent now. “Take care of them,” she said, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat, closing her eyes for a moment. Her chest rose, then fell. She looked at him once more. “Agnes… and Katherine.”
He stiffened at the sound of Katherine’s name. He was aware that she was under his care, but he didn’t think it was worth mentioning now in his grandmother’s last moments of life. She hadn’t known the woman nearly long enough. Before he could say anything, she continued.
“I ken ye’ve made a vow to yerself, even if ye’ve never told me,” she said, the words cutting through him, making him feel flayed open and exposed. “It is all right to break yer vow. Ye wouldnae be lettin’ anyone down.”
His hand tightened on hers, his throat tight with emotion and all the things he’d never get to say. He wanted to tell her that maintaining his distance was the only way to keep Katherine safe. He wanted to say that keeping her alive was far moreimportant than acting on the desires he was desperately trying to keep buried.
How could I possibly explain it?
