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“You’ve got a look about you,” I say, breaking the silence.

Casey doesn’t glance up. He just lets out a long, tired sigh. “What look, Triona?”

“As if you’re waiting for that blade of grass to sprout legs and take off.”

A slight smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but leaves in a flash. “I dinnae have a look.”

“Aye, you do.” I nudge his arm with mine. “It means something is eating at you—and refrain from saying my delusions are getting the better of me. I know you better than anyone.”

“Ye’re relentless,” he says, his voice heavy.

The teasing drops from my tone. “Did you and Callan get into it? Or is it Bran? I saw how upset you were that night, and again yesterday morning. You seemed… off.”

His jaw tightens, and he keeps his eyes fixed forward. “Bran’s fine. Everything’s fine with him.”

I study him, my chest tightening at the obvious lie. “You don’t believe that any more than I do. So what is it? Just tell me.”

“I cannae explain it, Tri.” His voice is quiet now, almost too quiet, like he’s afraid of the words getting away from him. “It’s just… hard to talk about. Like no one would understand.”

“Then don’t explain it. Tell me how it feels.” I lean forward, trying to meet his gaze. “Maybe no one else would, but I’m not everyone else. You’ve always been there for me, and now it’s my turn. You never have to hide from me, Casey.” I reach out tentatively to take his hand in mine. “You don’t have to hide who you are, or what you feel. There’s nothing you could say or do that I would not love you through.”

He speaks so softly I have to strain to hear him. “I’m afraid to be myself,” he murmurs, his voice fragile, as if saying it aloud might break him. “I hide behind laughter, jesting as if it’s all I’m made of, but… I dinnae ken how long I can wear this mask. It’s as though I’m lost in a place I don’t belong—trying to be someone I’m not.”

His words hit me like a stone in the chest, and my teasing falls away completely. “Casey…” I pause, unsure what to say. “You’re not out of place.”

“How do you say that so easily?”

“Because I’m sure of how you make me feel. You are the strongest thread between us. You keep me steady. When everything feels too heavy, when the rest of us lose ourselves, you remind us to laugh, to breathe.”

“Anyone can do that.”

“No, Casey, they can’t,” I say firmly. “You are not a compilation of jests. You see us. You see when Cal’s about to boil over, so you cut in before he explodes. You see heated arguments rising, and you change the topic to settle everyone. And me?” I pause, throat tightening, remembering waking up in that tent to see Casey hovering above me. “You see me in one of my darkest hours, and you hold me. You are the peace amongst us.”

“It’s not an effortless task.”

“Then let someone else carry the weight when it feels too heavy a burden. You’ll still be our safe place. I’ll still find peace in your presence, even if you can’t find it in yourself.”

I move to wrap my arms around his shoulders. “You don’t have to carry this alone anymore,” I whisper. “When you’re ready to talk, I’m right here. You’ve got me, Casey. And I’ll remind you every day how much you matter until you believe it yourself.”

“Thanks, Triona,” he whispers hoarsely. “I dinnae ken what I’d do without ye.”

I smile softly, holding him close. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”

After the weight of the morning with Casey, I finally feel steady enough to find Deidre. The primrose left for me… it’s been sitting where I left it yesterday morning. A delicate reminder that even in chaos, someone sees me, cares enough to bring light into my day. I need her to know how much it meant.

I find her near the kitchens, rolling dough at the large wooden table. The faint scent of fresh bread fills the air, and she hums softly to herself as she works. When she notices me lingering in the doorway, she pauses, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Triona,” she says with a kind smile, her eyes warm. “What brings you here, my dear?”

I grin, stepping closer. “Honestly? I just wanted to see you. You’re different here, Deidre—so relaxed, so in your element. It’s nice to see you in your own space, truly happy.”

Deidre smirks, wiping her hands on her apron. “It’s easy to be this way when I’m not being driven mad by a maddening girl and the bickering that often follows the three incredibly vexing but loveable Sinclair children.”

I laugh, crossing my arms. “Admit it, Deidre, you miss the chaos.”

Deidre’s expression softens, and she gives me a fond smile. “Maybe I do, Triona. Life is never dull when you’re around. Chaos or not, I wouldn’t trade you or the Sinclairs for all the peace and quiet in the world.”

I smile, feeling a warmth settle in my chest. “Good to know I’m appreciated,” I tease lightly before my expression grows more serious. I step forward, clasping my hands nervously. “but… I also wanted to give my gratitude, Deidre. For the primrose. It… it meant a great deal to me. After everything, finding something so thoughtful waiting for me…” My voice falters, but I press on. “It reminded me I’m not as alone as I sometimes feel.”