“I see things as they are, unfortunately.”
More silence.
She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “And what about if I go home and me braither and cousin decide to declare war on ye? What then? What will ye do?”
He shrugged. “I will manage it. Me clan will survive. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Without me? Without me help, here, with ye?”
“Ye would be better placed to talk sense into them at their side.”
She growled in frustration. “Me braither willnae attack a keep I am staying at. Nor will me cousin. Me being here guarantees yer safety.”
He gave a wry smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “If ye are the only thing standing between me and a declaration of war from MacCrimmon and MacColl, then our situation is precarious indeed.”
“Evander—”
“I have made me decision,” he interrupted softly.
When had he gotten so tired? Exhaustion had crept over him like a blanket, tugging him down to the ground. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, to curl up and stick his head under a pillow until the world went by without him.
Tears glimmered in Skye’s eyes. One escaped, rolling down her cheek, glittering like a precious stone.
“Ye have made yer decision,” she repeated. “So, that’s that? I leave and daenae look back?”
“I’m sorry, lass,” he whispered. “Ye leave at dawn. Pack yer things tonight.”
Her lips formed a thin, bloodless line.
“Ye arenae sorry,” she stated, her voice cracking. Angrily, she dashed the back of her hand across her eyes. “And I can only hope that ye daenae have cause to regret it.”
Someone knocked on the door.
“Now’s nae the time,” Evander snapped. “Whoever’s there had better leave, and quickly. I’m nae hungry, I daenae want more tea, and if ye are bringing me documents or papers to look over, ye have picked the wrong moment.”
There was a moment of silence outside the door. He couldn’t hear the sound of footsteps retreating. Then, to his amazement, the knob turned, and the door inched open.
Leah peered into the room, pale-faced. “I’m sorry, me Laird. I hoped to speak to ye at supper, but there was no sign of ye. It’s urgent.”
She paused, her eyes running over the chaos in the room.
In the hours since Skye had left, darkness had fallen completely. All trace of the golden-pink sunset had vanished, leaving only a drab black sky in its wake and some shifting shadows where the fairyland forest had been. The darkness intruded into Evander’s study, since he had not lit any candles.
“Go away, Leah. I’m thinking.”
Wordlessly, Leah reached into her belt and unhooked a small, wax-dribbled candlestick with a stub of a candle attached. She lit it, and a small bubble of yellow light enveloped the two of them.
Evander winced, squinting against the light.
“Ye havecandleson that belt of yers?” he huffed.
She blinked. “Aye, of course. What did ye think? That I wouldnae?”
“Aye, that is what I thought.”
She glanced around the room, her eyes running over the recently erupted chaos. There was the abandoned tea tray left by the maid, the one who’d disturbed him and Skye. There were the tables and chairs he’d kicked over in an impotent rage, papers scattered, maps torn, books thrown from one end of the room to another.
“It’s a wee bit messier than usual in here,” she noted.
