Ye have a gift.
Relief and joy surged through her, and before she could think better of it, she turned and threw her arms around him in a brief, grateful embrace—unguarded and entirely without thought for propriety or appearances.
“Thank ye,” she said against his shoulder. “Truly. For everything.”
Martin patted her back awkwardly, clearly unaccustomed to such open affection. “Ye earned it,” he said.
Another voice sounded in the quiet chamber. A huff, if it could be called that, and Edith removed herself from the hug. She turned, her heart skipping a beat when she found Aaron standing in the doorway.
How long has he been watching?
His arms were crossed, his expression shuttered in the particular way she had come to recognize and dread. She had not heard the door open. She had not known he was there at all.
“Me Laird,” she said, straightening at once. Her earlier joy ebbed, and her chest tightened with a feeling she did not understand. “I didnae hear ye arrive.”
Aaron said nothing. His jaw was tight, his eyes flicking briefly between her and Martin before settling on nothing whatsoever, as though looking at her directly required more than he was willing to give at that moment.
“Me Laird—” Edith took a step forward without thinking, and his eyes flickered to her for the briefest moment.
Then he turned and walked out.
The door closed quietly behind him, quieter than she had expected, and somehow that made it worse than if he had slammed it.
She stood frozen for a moment, the warmth of Martin’s praise collapsing entirely beneath the weight of what had just happened.
“Edith?” Martin’s voice was gentle, concerned.
She blinked, forcing her expression back into something steady. “’Tis nothing,” she said. “I am certain he just came to fetch me for the fair.”
Martin did not look convinced, but he did not press further either.
Edith considered following Aaron, but the thought lasted only a moment before she dismissed it entirely.
What is the point?
Aaron did not care that she had embraced Martin out of pure joy and nothing else. She knew it. She believed it. He cared only that someone might see it, that it might raise questions about the arrangement he had built so carefully for his purposes.
That is all this had ever been to him.
She squared her shoulders, gathered the tools from the table, and began putting the chamber back in order with hands that were not quite as steady as they had been minutes before.
“Shall we discuss yer final lesson?” Martin asked, breaking the silence.
Edith nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Aye. Please.”
She would not think of Aaron’s face. She would not wonder what had truly unsettled him, or why his silence had felt so much heavier than his usual sharp words.
Besides, she had a fair to attend. A role to play. And after today, only one outing remained before her freedom was entirely her own.
She held onto that thought carefully, the way she had learned to hold onto things that kept her steady.
It did not help nearly as much as she wanted it to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Aaron did not remember walking the length of the corridor.
One moment, he was standing in the doorway of the healer’s chamber; the next, he was somewhere else entirely, gripping the sill of a window overlooking the courtyard until his knuckles turned white.
